Grr grr grr! The building managers called again this morning. “Can we show the apartment at two and five and five-thirty?” I don’t know. Can you get a fucking clue that you are invading our privacy and right to notice? It’s weird, I feel like I’m too upset about this, but I have always hated having my rights stompled. I am also frustrated because my companion talked to them yesterday and they told him we could say no, but they were going to keep asking. I wish I would have known when they called this morning. My feeling is that they shouldn’t be asking. What are the odds they’re going to rent this place with clothes and boxes everywhere? I am not trying to keep it messy, it’s just moving mess.
Yaaar, HAAATE. Thank god we’re going out to dinner tonight. I need to get out of here. I am having to redo everything seven times because Strudel is following after me and unpacking things and dumping things. I am afraid she’s going to foil my scheme to get rid of Frannie’s broken plastic crap while she’s at school. I twirl my giant moustache as I throw out plastic ponies with broken legs.
If I ever become a member of the landed gentry, I resolve to give people fair notice or have a set open house day. With notice.
I think there are little tweetie birds flapping around my head right now….
So, I’m about to comment on something other than this post. Sorry*.
But you know what I’ve noticed lately? Blogging sucks. There are just NO GOOD BLOGS out there anymore. None of the stupid fun of Plain Layne of yore. None of the mindless goodness of people scanning their cats. It’s like everyone went through this kind of goofy period a couple of years ago and now they’re all serious and shit. I mean don’t get me wrong– I like stories about boobs as much as the next guy. Fuck it– talk about your boobs as much as you want. I’ll always read about them. I promise. But I miss the wild west daze of olive oil and earwigs. I miss the days when the interweb made me go, “Oh, NO FUCKING WAY!” on a regular basis.
So you know what you need?
Links. You need LINKS, Asshole, so I can go where you go and see what you see and find some fucking blogs that don’t suck shit-peanuts out of a dead rhino’s asshole.
And now, reading back over this comment, I find it fails in one important regard, which is that it fails to give you props for being the only blog I know of where there’s anything even remotely wild west going on. You do comparison studies on stuff that makes your lips swell. That’s some OG shit right there, so full props to you for that. And that’s why I want you to guide me, Asshole. Mold my delicate little mind. Tell me what to do. Post LINKS, beyotch. Links to the strange and the stupid– for only you can show me the way.
* Not really.
:O
Yessir!
is it at all advantageous to you if they rent the apartment? will they be more lenient on all the idiotic cleaning fees?
if not, screw them and their scrabbling attempts to rent that place out. they’re invading your privacy, make it apparent. underwear on the chandelier!
poor sj…where did you go for dinner?
I’m with carmie, undies on the chandlier! Stinky diapers left in the garbage!
And you know, your landlords are probably going to charge you for that extra cleaning and then not really do it.