Caterwauling

It’s 5 p.m. and I was hoping to be on the road right now. But I still have work to do and I haven’t packed.

Also I am pissed off at Starwood.

I booked a hotel and, a few hours later, decided I wanted to buy an extra day. So I tried (and failed) to be able to do so through the Starwood app. It said I had to give up my room type because they were out of the rooms I like.

So I fired up Priceline.com and saw my type of room available, at the rate I had locked in.

But rather than having to switch rooms, I called the hotel and said I would like to add a day. I did not care what rate I had to pay for the additional day.

Welp, the guy told me I could add that day … and totally lose the deal I had gotten on the days I had paid for already.

So let me get this straight. I as a member got a great rate. I as a member wanted to spend more money to buy an additional day. I as a member would have to pay another $15 a day for three nights I had already paid cash for.

Hmmm.

They told me to call HQ and didn’t give me the number. I said I will happily take my business elsewhere.

I mean, I will go for the days I already paid for. But screw it. I’m tired and I’m going to stay local tonight.

Last year I had stayed at Hilton and decided to extend my stay. They said sure, took my card and charged me THE SAME RATE for the extra day.

Guess who gets my business from now on … and who should have gotten it in the first place?

Well, I think the duck-kicking bitch won this round. My old duck who hung around is now gone. If I know her, she probably kicked him and sicced her ugly beasts on him and did him in.

I guess all neighbors have to be shitheads. The Hyatt family down in Plantation does a massive Christmas light show every year. And the city is closing down the roads to the house and making people park and walk a mile if they want to see it.

On top of that, they are fining the family $250 a day.

Their house is the only sign of Christmas south of Orlando. They ask you to donate to food banks and the Humane Society and children’s charities, if you’re so inclined to show your appreciation.

My mom can’t walk 10 steps without wincing in pain. No way we can attend this year.

It’s people like the Hyatts who make life wonderful, and people like Cuntzilla the Duck-Kicking Bitch and probably just one or two grinches in Plantation who ruin it for everybody.

I will just be over here writing reports if anyone needs me. And watching out my window for a duck-kicking cunt who needs her ass beaten …

Big Giant Pussy decided to blast his music at 4 a.m. above mom’s room and then drop an oil drum over my bed 30 minutes later. 

He needs to run along and die already. But at least I haven’t heard Thundercunt’s mouth or their bastard children’s feet, so it’s still a win.

But …

I ran into the duck-kicking bitch and she ripped me a new one today. 

I went downstairs to feed our lone duck. All his friends left but he still hangs around, hoping someone will show him some kindness. 

Something told me not to take the elevator. So I ran down the stairs. As I opened the gate to leave the building, the elevator doors opened behind me … and out came three ugly, unleashed beasts. Four if you count the cunt. 

I made it a point of slamming the heavy wrought iron gate door in her face. I think it got the littlest, ugliest dog. But it gave me a head start before she could stomp up to me. 

Before I say anything, let me point out that the condo bylaws prohibit:

1. Dogs above 20 pounds

2. Dogs not on leashes 

3. Dog poop left to bake in the sun.

The condo even provides bags and trash cans for pet waste. 

Condo bylaws say nothing about interacting with wildlife. 

My duck ran up to me. His little webbed toes were touching mine. We have a game where I throw food and he jumps to catch it in his mouth. It’s the cutest thing ever. 

I saw psycho bitch so I walked the duck away from her. But not fast enough. 

She screamed at me, “Um, we try NOT to feed the ducks here!”

I said OK and threw him another bite. 

“The ducks RUIN the grass!  See how it’s MISSING in places!”

It’s missing because dogs piss and shit all over it. Duh. 

I said, “Funny. It’s been missing since before I moved here.” And fed my boy some more. 

She was flipping out at this point. And I was thanking God for my unique ability to remain calm in the midst of her psychosis. 

I forget all she said. She did rage that the “people UP THERE” … and waved up toward my unit … feed the ducks and they attract tons of ducks and we don’t want that around here. 

Rather than questioning the Royal “we” or saying “we” think she needs her ass beaten, I said, “um it’s one duck.” And I fed him more. 

At this point she’s losing it that i won’t stop feeding him. She screamed a whole bunch more and left. 

A second duck waddled over. She comes by from time to time. And my duck did what he always does — he turned his back to me so I would feed his friend. 

The ducks who live here are clearly more civilized than the residents. 

The bitch watched me the whole time from 50 yards away. Huffing and hands on hips. 

Can you imagine being so unhappy with your life that it OFFENDS you that someone shows five minutes of  kindness to a living creature?

I had enough food to feed the neighborhood. But I was thrilled to give the ducks a little nibble and I didn’t want them hanging around for her to run back and kick them. 

Think about that for a moment. That’s how awful she is. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. 

I ran back up the steps and filled mom in. She said the cunt honestly had no idea who I was. Like she completely forgot that she charged me around the lake.

I thought maybe she was too smart to bring it up because I have some very nasty comebacks ready for moments like these. Like maybe she was pretending we hadn’t met, like I was. I was committed to discounting her existence. 

But I think mom is right. This bitch is so loony, she might forget meeting me this time. Does she do this to everyone who feeds the ducks? I ain’t the only one. 

That said, say hi for fuck’s sake. Or say nothing like most other residents. Who the fuck is she to think she can approach anyone? And tell ME what to do when she’s broken three condo laws in that five minutes?

I hope Santa dislodges the hunk of coal up her ass. It’s got to be miserable being so pissed off at the world that seeing a duck eating some leftover movie popcorn makes you take a stroke. 

What a miserable way to live. 

Dear Head Cheese, Olive Loaf and Stinky Cheese,

I don’t know if you watched “Talk Soup” back when “The Hills” was going off the air. Joel McHale showed the final clip of everyone driving off into the sunset, and his graphics department added in a big giant explosion blew them all to smithereens.

That is my wish for you.

Enjoy living in hell with my soon-to-be former neighbors.

Love,
Goddess

I had the longest, most pointless exchange with the dumbest person on this earth. This one out-dumbed the last dum-dum by about 5 points on the dum-dum scale. 

Remember, these people are driving on your roads, cooking your dinner and handling your money. Be warned. 

Sad to think of all the cute animals killed in traffic but these people, thanks to modern healthcare, will spread Teh Dumb forever. 

Either way, my lullaby was rolling oil drums over my head. 

Mom got a rude awakening to screaming a half-hour before I did. 

Mine was hearing Thundercunt yell, “I will kick your ass!” And then she threw something to the floor that was heavy — I figure a dresser or a Fraggle — and she charged his loser ass. 

I worry with my mom so sick that she will die. With those fuck nuggets, my fear is that they won’t. 

Just got this from the landlord five minutes ago.  

Astounded doesn’t even begin to cover it. Especially after I got this from the HOA …

Thundercunt and Big Giant Pussy were arguing as usual this morning until he stopped, walked outside and asked where the ducks were.

Let me tell you about that.

Yesterday some yahoo in a golf cart filled with yucky blue solution went all around the pond and dumped that toxic shit into it.

One duck who was hanging out in the marsh dared to squawk in complaint. And that motherfucker beamed the spray right at her little beak and silenced her with a wave of chemicals.

  
I didn’t want to believe it was toxic. But we have a ball player here who takes two tennis balls to the lake every day with his dog. He clearly didn’t see the polluting of the lake like we did. So when he threw a ball to the water per usual and the dog stopped just shy of it and retreated, our fears were confirmed.

There is not a duck, turtle, iguana or bird to be found on the property today.

I couldn’t sleep last night. The silence (of the real animals, not the zoo animals upstairs) was killing me.

I know that the Bible says that no weapon formed against us will ever prosper. But they sure do seem to kill everything we love.

Today all the ugly dogs are running around off-leash, shitting with abandon where the ducks used to congregate all “City of Angels”-style.

Many times over the eight years that mom has lived in my house, I’ve told her no decorating outside. No welcome shit on the doors. No doormats. None. Personalize it inside all you want. Just … don’t invite people to steal our joy.

I thought she learned that lesson at Amityville, when we were told not to decorate our doors or balconies.

When people know it’s a happy home, they will do everything to target it with their own miserable little hearts.

It’s the same thing with being a happy person. I’ve endured more than my share of bullies and jerks who hate it that I can smile and sing under my breath no matter what’s happening.

But as I’ve said the last eight years, I can’t buoy us both. She’s so down and depressed by everything in her life plus the taking away of the little joys like enjoying nature.

I’ve been chirping away for 40-odd years that we have to speak favor into existence. Give thanks for our health and safety. Believe our God is bigger than the bullshit.

We are falling down on the job of believing that the rewards will be bigger because of the bullshit. I guess we’ve seen otherwise too many times.

I guess if I have one prayer today, it’s that the ducks could somehow understand our own safety was in jeopardy for feeding them. I pray that they found other sources of food and other, safer places to congregate before they were poisoned.

I remember feeding the neighborhood kitties and getting in trouble for that. Then Animal Control took them all away and exterminated them.

Mom and I love the unloved. And they are all taken away from us.

She said we just shouldn’t love anymore.

I know I should fight it and say no, we will keep on spreading joy wherever we can.

But I’m tired of fighting and never winning.

I just wish the other people in this goddamned apartment building would stop fighting. But then again, they all seem to win. And none of them is on the side of goodness like we try to be.

Maybe if I start doing evil, I’ll start winning too.

Too bad I am not the slightest bit capable of it.

Was up all night. Between Thundercunt screaming and then the ducks quacking all night long, it was tough to sleep. 

I thought all night about feeding the ducks. But if I could hear them, so could the duck-kickers. 

And I thought long and hard about whether to reward their cute, soothing ducky sounds … Or risking being attacked by entitled bitches who probably terrorize everyone and everything they encounter. 

I don’t know how these nervy bitches haven’t reported or confronted Thundercunt. They must live in a different part of the building because everyone over here knows her deal. 

Speaking of, crackheads just woke up. That bitch best be packing and getting her nasty ass outta here. Because that 16 days might be dragging for me but it should be flying for her. 

I’m probably going to stop this countdown because Thundercunt is officially the least of my worries at that goddamned dump I call home.

I got brave early this morning and wanted to go feed the ducks.

Honestly, if you’ve seen “City of Angels” and you see the angels lined up on the beach at sunrise, this is exactly the scene at my house. Which was the one thing we loved about it.

So I walk out, look both ways … and see one of the bitches who reported me. With unleashed dogs. Right by the ducks.

I know I shouldn’t have reacted. But I threw my hands up in the air and probably dropped an F-bomb. Then I started walking really fast around our lake.

I kept looking over my shoulder, thinking the bitch would have gone inside since she never hauls her homely ass around the lake. Nope. Not today.

She followed me more than halfway around the lake. I kept looking back and she was hot on my heels.

At our gazebo, I saw a hot guy and he said hello. And I got brave.

I turned around and walked back the way I came from. I wasn’t gonna let this duck-kicking bitch stalk me.

She stopped me and snapped at me.

She said why do I keep looking back at her.

I said I always look back when I’m walking. I want to be safe.

She said she saw me throw up my hands and shoot her looks. I said your dogs are unleashed and I am afraid and I don’t have to hang around and be near them.

She said she’s never seen me before and I’m acting “all shady” toward her. I said, “What’s it to you?”

She said her dogs are friendly. I said “Great. And I’m shady. Good to know.”

And I walked away.

She walked around to the entrance I came out of. I saw her waiting and I beelined to another one and managed to get home without further incident.

I saw her texting someone — ostensibly her fat friend with the three big ugly dogs. And sure enough, the bitches joined up at my entrance that’s under my balcony. Unleashed dogs and all.

So someone needs to explain to me how the ducks deserve to be kicked and I deserve to be stalked/confronted/bullied for walking outside my front door. (And no, no duckies were fed because of this drama.)

But these bitches can let their dogs roam free.

The fat bitch’s new trick is to leash the dogs and then drop the leash to let them run at the ducks.

I know we are spending way too much time and sanity on this. But no one stood up for my great-grandmother in the hospital. Or my grandmother. Or my grandfather. No one follows through on any promises to help me help my mom.

So that I want to advocate for a handful of beautiful, kind, sweet and quiet little creatures having some food … I am the target of a witch hunt?!?!

I’m going to go out there every day with my big purse and pretend I’m doing something shady. Seriously. I got exercise and she got angry. Which seems like a pretty OK outcome to me.

I just hope she doesn’t sic those ugly mongrels on Mom. She knows where I live and I don’t know where to find her. Which is a very unfair advantage she has.

But here’s to hoping that life, in all its inherent unfairness, evens things out on this one.