Paint, en fait, but not those oils. Too goopy for the low-skilled.
Toke, ne'er-do-wells, toke for the Wizard Van.
Clap your hands, say Ia.*
*if this means I'm, curses, in a mellow mood, at least my unreasonable mind can be reasonably sure that by this afternoon, it'll be pulling up an uncomfortable comfort in the Bleak House of Doom or its non-union, Mexican equivalent.
