Hot hot hot

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.

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