Artistic License

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a true story when I was a young girl and my friend and I kept filling the champagne glasses...was seriously one of the funniest moments in my life...until my father came home and the look of horror on his face at the mass devastation!!

Submitted: January 25, 2010

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Submitted: January 25, 2010

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It started out so innocent a simple painting chore,
dressed in canvas overalls to paint the skirts and door.
Paper on the floor so carefully placed and taped,
to vigilantly catch the drips that may fall down just in case.

With champagne in their hand, they begun the tedious deed,
so carefully and precise the paint applied with ease.
Champagne glasses filled, and drunk with full force,
the delicate work continued, a steady hand of course.

More paint upon the overalls than on the skirts I confess,
the second bottle opened, noting but the best.
Slowly mistakes were made, they continued with their quest,
champagne continued down without the slight protest.

One decided the overalls of the other needed colour,
out came the roller and painted the overalls all over.
Champagne bubbles abundant, now going to the mind,
laughing hysterically as both now totally blind.

The other dipped her hands into the bucket full,
painted her partners face, almost contemporary, artful.
The walls no longer painted but instead paint everywhere,
by this time paint was splashing here and over there.

The doors were painted, the walls and the floor too,
between the celebration it was an artistic piece or two.
One decided the mess now needed to be clean,
the outside hose now in and full force came the stream.

Water was now flooding like a torrent along the floor,
mashed with the newspaper that was now taped to the door.
The stream went down the hallway and into the room along,
the flood of the century was in the house we owned.

More champagne ordered, as now they started to stress,
one said to the other "I think we have made more mess".
With this on her mind she decided to escape the crime,
she went to head home and avoid the surge of slime.

Instead of opening the door, went through the mesh instead,
she toppled in somersault, while landing on her head.
The dog licking upon her face in celebration mode,
she lay upon the wet ground with a broken toe.

Unable to believe as she looked at the chaotic place,
now hysterically laughing as tears fell down her face.
Covered all over with paint from bottom to the top,
further celebration was needed...another bottle popped!

29/9/09


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