Why in hell do I live here?
Tuesday 11th February 2003
Not only have I not been allowed to park in my fucking spot for the last three nights, since seventy-five percent of the transient fucktards in my carpark have no parking permits but take my fucking spot anyway; now my fucking water is shut off.
Being the strange, curious scientist type: I thought I'd find out why. Hit the Play button [if available; otherwise, wait for it to finish loading] to see whether this makes more sense to you than it makes to me....
And now, just to make the whole fuckup complete: I've got some labourer tripping through my backyard and plugging some large, loud industrial thing into my outlet. I can't wait to see my electric bill this month....
For those playing along at home, by the way, the hole in my livingroom ceiling from the night of StoopidBowl Sunday [whenever that was] is still there. Presuming it's been more than a week, then something's wrong; it was supposed to be fixed 'later this week', as of whichever Sunday started the seven-day deadline. I could look that up; but I'm pretty sure it's been half a fucking month now.
So I'm just thrilled.
Officially speaking, I'm living here until the end of June. Then we renegotiate the lease and I find out whether these fucktards will be charging even more than twelve hundred bucks a month for eight hundred square feet in a neighbourhood where I'm more likely to find an abandoned shoppingcart in my parking spot than my car.
Which is why I'm thinking of bugging out early.
I doubt I'd have any actual trouble claiming fucking bedlam here. Since July 2002, I've had an air conditioner which didn't work until the end of August, power and water outages caused by idiots breaking things they're trying to fix, an inability to park my car within hitch hiking distance of my townhouse, and so on. I could just go away, and dare them to sue me for leaving without any, ah, 'notice'.
I've given them other notices, of course. I notify them all the fucking time that I have no place to park, even though, according to my lease, A maximum of two vehicles per apartment are allowed on the property. One vehicle per apartment will park at the door, a second vehicle and those belonging to guests of residents will be parked in the middle of the lot.
And yet, of all the cars parked 'at the door', where my one car belongs, only one in four has a parking permit at all--let alone the perceived ability to take my fucking spot.
All that, combined with an average overnight temperature of fucking Kelvin, is making me think it might be time to move someplace warm. Possibly Phoenix.
Which, unfortunately, I can't do tonight. Or I probably would. Since Greenback is off in the navy and his stuff is in my second bedroom, I should probably bounce the idea off of him before I do anything like that. Not that he likes the cold much either.
Something to think about, I guess.
Spam of the Day
More Later....
--Gremlin
