coffee stains

well i may have exaggerated how much fringe hair my spanish classmate burnt as a result of my lighter manipulations...but not by much

now when i was a little boy, when, i suppose, my mother should have been teaching me to speak her language....my mother was in fact, throwing her leftover coffee, from each mug, onto the white walls.... Not becoz she was angry...but simply a laissez-faire hoop diddy momma attitude.... So that for years our white sheetrock walls in our cheap govt. Rent controlled 3 bedroom home, were always stained with dropping coffee marks... So much so that one of my first memories is of my two sisters shaking a can and then opening it againt the wall so that it could splurt there:

like mother, like daughter, as they say...

Now this ridiculous condition went on for some time... I remember i had a toy treehouse with a normal tree family within with normally decorated walls in their treehouse... Also i was embarrassed to invite my friends to our coffee colored walls house

years later, my father took it upon himself to paint the entire interior.... Goodbye coffeestains.... Hello shitty parisian looking dark colored shittily painted and dripping paint shittily interiors: sans a single coffee stain after that...hello french impressionists: renoir... Gagaun factory picture... Bosch.... Eurotrash!!!

Well my father must have said to his wife: no more throwing ur coffee leftovers on the walls bitch... And no more letting the girls open their soda cans on the walls.... The combined loungeroom dining room had khaki shitty baby shit colored walls in the loungeroom, very poorly painted....darker than light...the adjoining dining room study was painted a shitty soft tomato red

maybe my father was going for an artistic impressionist look by unevenly, unprofessionally applying the paint.... One memorable corner dripped white paint after he had carelessly splotched his brush there and let the paint drip and dry...

This was a great source of amusement later for a graphic designer friend