Hot hot hot

July 11th, 2017, 4:39 PM by Goddess

My AC unit punked out.

The AC in the car punked out a year ago.

And the ice maker’s been dead for at least two years.

So, it’s been a laugh a minute around here.

I just paid a guy $100 to basically wipe up four drops of water and restart my thermostat.

He needs a second guy with him because my actual unit is up on the roof. With the units of 299 other apartments. So good luck figuring out if he can find, and fix, this one. But that’s an adventure for another day.

I didn’t bother my landlord because the last time I did, there was a riot. And I got a new lease with about a $100/month bump up in the rent.

He lost his mind that I paid for a repair over $100 that his dim-witted, holy-rolling brother-in-law or whatever could have done for $99. (In Florida, tenants have to pay for repairs up to $100.) Honestly I wasn’t going to tell him about this, no matter what the cost. And even though there may be more, I’ll eat it.

The ice maker, for what it’s worth, will be a $300 repair. I hope he doesn’t take it out of my security deposit. But then he’d also have to take the fact that none of the blinds work … that the electricity doesn’t work in mom’s room at all … the 10 years’ worth of crap in the carpets … the drain that doesn’t drain … the DOA dishwasher … the bleach the whore before me spilled under the sink … and those ceiling marks I made with baseball bats and other various sharp objects to make the Thundercunts shut up.

Yeah I bet that’ll eat up the $3,000 he’s sitting on of mine.

In any event, I need to get out of this place before I actually sweat off a pound or something.



There goes the neighborhood

March 7th, 2017, 4:25 PM by Goddess

As if having an asshole who wears a taped-up Commie-red tie splitting his time between my old neighborhood and my new one weren’t enough …

The person (using that phrase loosely) who makes Steve Bannon seem like the Sultan of Sunshine in comparison to said person (and I ain’t talkin’ about Trumpy in this graf) is also moving to my hood.

Seriously, universe. You keep making me long for the dumpster fire that was 2016.

Time to enter Witness Protection … again.

Or just burn down the entire state. Whichever.

I hear the company is hosting the goodbye party after the departure. So, the universe is turning as it should.



In which I’m now the asshole upstairs 

December 12th, 2016, 7:25 AM by Goddess

Old ladies downstairs were blasting their TV all night with the windows open. 

I could take it till 12:15. Then I did an Irish jig, some booty poppin and some shit stomping around the house. 

They turned the TV off. 

Too bad I was too het up to fall asleep for four hours. 

Now if I can get them to stop chainsmoking because it makes my momma sneeze …



Juggling refrigerators 

October 24th, 2016, 7:26 AM by Goddess

It isn’t enough to be sick thanks in part to a very interesting dinner at Cheddar’s. 

But to be staying close to home and then having my neighbor being his usual violent self upstairs makes me feel that much worse. 



Screwed

October 23rd, 2016, 9:05 AM by Goddess

Was at the mechanic yesterday, dodging about $1,000 in needed repairs. When I found out we live in the same goddamned place.

We traded stories — mine of the guy shooting off his nuts and his dog’s too, the swamp cancer, the duck-kickers, the guy who pisses off the balcony … and his of the big gay guys who fuck hard up against his wall, the neighbor who OD’d, the guy who killed himself and maimed his girlfriend for life, and the flying 2x4s during the last storm.

We both have cop stories, the asshole who claims we don’t come to a full stop but lets everyone else fly through at 78 mph with no problems. (I got the ticket; he, being 6’7″, did not.)

We talked of getting screwed on the rent. Although I kept slightly mum that at least I get a 2BR for my near-two-grand, while he has a 1BR. Of course, he has a girlfriend to split the bills with (damn! he’s cute, too! And we KNOW how I need a mechanic in my life!), so I don’t feel too bad.

Meanwhile, my friend I had lunch with says her mortgage is $700 a month.

Granted, I’d never want to live where she does. And she’s getting screwed with her healthcare premiums for $900 a month.

Meanwhile we have zero in the way of healthcare here. So she’s basically getting healthy and isn’t housing-insecure, for the same money I spend.

Meanwhile I fret every minute of every day about losing the job, the apartment, the mom, the cat, the car. With no real way to save a freaking dime because the apartment eats my whole salary.

Welcome to South Florida, kids. Where nobody has it good.



Hurricane party

October 5th, 2016, 8:04 PM by Goddess

Well. Never endured a Category 4 hurricane before. Sure I lost power for a week after Wilma. But it wasn’t 100 degrees out like it is here now, with 120 mph winds. 

Have plenty of food. And LED lights. And candles. And booze. Diet be damned. 

Didn’t shutter the windows. I’m not in the mandatory evacuation zone this year. But I am in the second zone, where it is strongly encouraged to GTFO. 

I’m sick of hearing from everyone who is prepared. How expensive their preparations were. How other people will die but they will be fine with their AC and gas grill. 

Meanwhile I’m in the Chinese drywall palace where our idiot management trimmed the trees and left the debris on the ground. You know, the better to impale people with. Or to go through the windows that have no screens, let alone shutters.  

And don’t get me started on how the pools are still full. Fools.

They chained up the clubhouse from the inside. I went to grab mail tonight and couldn’t get in. How da fuck will they get in to unlock the chains holding the doors together? Also there are “no exit” signs on the inside. How about “no entry” signs on the outside? Fools. 

This place will remain standing just like Trump’s empire and other shitty companies do. That is, despite themselves. So I should be more worried than I am.  But in a world where ineptitude is most richly rewarded, I am definitely in the right place. 

Lord please keep my coffeemaker running for the next four days. Or six, if this shit hooks around like it appears it will. 

Hey at least I’m getting two days off. Not the vacay I had planned for next week. But no long meetings while I’m under a time crunch? Greater joy than the hell any hurricane could inflict. 

Hurricane party!!!



A finite number of fucks

September 5th, 2016, 11:25 AM by Goddess

Anthony — the boyfriend of Melissa the duck-kicking bitch, and brother of Fat Blonde Bitch who sics her dogs on the ducks here — got interviewed by CBS yesterday here. 

His unleashed beast, which Melissa stalked me with, got swamp cancer from our lake. 

They don’t understand karma, clearly. 

And funny he had a leash in his hand the whole time during the interview. Fuckers have two leashes and six dogs. 

And I’m so sick of hearing them bark at all fucking hours. The beasts and their dogs. 

 

I feel bad that the dog lost his leg. And that he has to live with those assholes. But I have no sympathy for them. 

Leash your beasts and obey the numerous “no swimming” signs. 

It’s not hard. Really. 

Wish they would all move and get the fuck out of our lives. I’d be 100% happier here without them. 



#ducklivesmatter

July 16th, 2016, 2:05 PM by Goddess

I will stop feeding the wildlife after people start controlling their unleashed, shit-filled, nonstop-barking beasts. 

After all, their sign is first …



Midnight snack

July 14th, 2016, 11:08 PM by Goddess

Confession: I feed the animals after dark. 

After last year’s events where Shady Melissa threatened me and stalked me and eventually reported me for feeding ducks, I’ve hidden in the house. 

But awhile ago I started feeding other ducks in our massive compound. And of course everywhere else I go. 

Recently there’s been a duck who could fly to the second floor. Trying to get our attention. He’d go to the apartment just below and wait. 


So I would sneak down and feed him when night fell. 

As it turns out, he is a she. And she was pregnant with 11 ducklings. 

Well naturally no one can control or leash their dogs here. So I quickly went from feeding 12 to 5. Mom has been in hysterics, texting me each day that she was down to 10, then 9, then 7. Now it’s four. 

So I’ve been leaving food under a tree for them every night around 11:15 pm. Every morning, they swim over to our side of the lake to eat. 

We also have two turtles who come to the buffet. (I put out a ton of food — three kinds.) and other birds. And lizards. 

It’s better than the Palm Beach Zoo. Although I suspect your bum after dinner at Chipotle is more entertaining than that tourist trap. 

Here are some of my friends … 


(Mr. Lizard, momma duck and the tortuga twins)

I am afraid momma duck may not come back now that her secret spot under the bushes has been discovered. 

Plus the awful dog owners congregate here. They smoke cigars and drink beer and gossip about us residents loudly. Terrorist plays his music on 11 in addition to building bombs. Dogs run around pooping with reckless abandon. They attack ducks while these illiterates proclaim their superiority like it’s the RNC in Cleveland. 

Anyway. I know these clowns would attack me since they are allowed to break the law and no one else is. So sometimes I have to take detours and try three or four times before the coast is clear. 

But it’s worth it when mom wakes up after a miserable night under Islamic Caitlyn Jenner and sees her menagerie. 

It’s Christmas morning every day till the lazy fucks wake up and walk their loudmouth mutts. 

But it’s ok. I am making the best of my time here. Finally. 

Sleep tight, duckies …



9 months

July 9th, 2016, 1:17 PM by Goddess

No, not that kind of nine months. Although mom did say it’s too bad I didn’t have kids since I love Kadie and most animals so much. 

(Hard to meet people in my life situation. Hard to meet people without wives or mental issues, or with good jobs, too. But I digress.)

Speaking of dicks, I’ve decided not to put my fights with the landlord, neighbors or myself in this space anymore. No need to let people into that part of my life. 

But I will say I am re-signing the lease under duress — through March 30 for $75 more a month. I negotiated it down from $100. Fucker needs to quit impregnating all his “business” partners. His babies need Gucci shoes, apparently. 

They tell me how I’m a favorite/beloved tenant. Funny way of showing it. 

This gives me nine months to get my shit together. To either give up on, or make it work in, South Florida. To either get promoted or get religion or get laid something else to get happy about. 

Tick tock …