Tuesday, September 29, 2009

They're Back in Town plus one

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This is Cheddar







He has Fleas and Pees blood.



He's staying with my Sister so that my youngest sister can have maintenance come by her apartment.

What's more is that he's not even my youngest sister's cat! He's crashing at her apartment while his owner (who is couch surfing with her baby) stays with friends who don't allow cats.


And even more retarded: My youngest sister also lives in a place that does not allow cats.



Cheddar used to stay in an apartment that allowed cats, but the people who lived there got fleas. So their cat and Cheddar both got smashed hard with flea treatments until they both started peeing blood.

Once both the cats started to pee blood, they decided to take their cat to the vet... and they told Cheddar to hit the road.



So now he lives with my youngest sister, who took him to the vet - but tonight - he's hiding out at my other sister's house, so maintenance doesn't find out about him.



Obviously when maintenance walks into my youngest sister's apartment, the house is going to stink so bad, he'll write her up for something.

Trust me, there are lots of different things that the maintenance guy is going to smell.

First of all, this guy- click here Whom, this weekend, my dad bailed out of jail.
On the grounds that he delete all the "other bitches," (who aren't my sister) out of his iphone (which my dad hooked up) and also cut his dreadlocks off (which he didn't cuz my sister told him not to.)


Then if not the cat stink that comes with a cat who pees blood, then the maintenance guy will definitely smell the odors of the...

Homeless people that are burning trash in the fire place!

(I shit you not, every word in that sentence is true.)



A 20 year old mooch, her 23 year old ex con "husband," and their 18 year old baby are now crashing on pillows in the living room while happily unemployed.

The baby was 7 months in gestation the last time they "lived," at my youngest sister's place. They ended up leaving town, after never paying rent and now they're back with the baby, who's surprisingly much heavier than we thought it'd be (because - you know... glug glug glug, puff puff puff).

And it's not like they're hard-case homeless people, who went feral on the streets and are instinctively burning trash for warmth, they're just sloppy, trashy fuckers who are too lazy to take trash to the dumpsters. But they fucking drink behind the dumpsters because Dreadlocks is in recovery and the house has rules.



Oh, and I guess that a drug free household only applies to certain drugs because they went ahead and used my youngest sister's kitchen to make Mushroom Fudge.



According to my sister, they didn't mince the shrooms at all, so it looks sorta like this.









I told my youngest sister the same thing I told her last time they moved into her apartment.

"You know they're not gonna pay rent, right?"

But she assured me that this time around, they were getting state benefits for having a baby, so they'd be able to kick down rent. So now they're welcome guests who can break BOTH the dishwasher (clogged with food) and the Washer (tilted from being too full) which is why maintenance is coming.


While maintenance is over, the "homeless" people have to stay with moochy's mom. (Whom they should be staying with anyway - but it's a pride thing - as evident by moochy's famous line "Fuck you mom, don't talk to me like that, I'm Pregnant! I'm a grown ass bitch now!")



Unfortunately, the benefits thing isn't working out. Who would have thought that when you leave Arizona, that Arizona would stop paying for your rent and your kid's daycare?

Not that they needed daycare. They didn't have fucking jobs! Seriously they just took their kid to daycare for 8 hours a day while they chilled at home and lamented over having a child.

From what I've heard, state subsidized daycare was the only parenting that this 18 month old was getting.



Seriously, these are (all of) his toys:




(hopefully they'll wash this after they end up needing to use it)




(I'm pretty sure they'll never "need" this)




(It's a rattle)

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Tried to start something

I thought I'd make it my thing, where I'd go to bars and order a tall glass of milk.







It was supposed to be a subtle bad-ass move, Boy-Named-Sue style.

Most bars don't serve milk, and according to my bartender friend, "Only assholes would order milk."








I never considered that a bartender usually keeps the milk in the "big fridge," and to get to the milk, he has to abandon his post when he should be juggling the taps.










So I guess it makes sense that when I finally, successfully ordered a tall glass of milk, I got a scathing stare-down and the quip "You want a straw with that?"



It came out sorta warm, and sorta tasted like limes, which sorta means it was already going bad.







Then I got to take a shit in a bar.

Monday, September 14, 2009

I heard on the Radio

I heard on the radio that Kanye (Rhymes a word with the same word west) West claims that Beyonce's video for "Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)," is the best video of all time; especially when compared to Taylor Swift's video.

I watched the two videos and I'd have to say he's wrong.

It's not even the best video-where-someone-sings-and-dances-during-the-whole-video-in-one-room-video of all time.

(the song sucks too) In fact, this was exactly the type of video that made me disenchanted with music videos when I was 10.

Before MTV, all you had was the pictures in your head. Some people were totally blown over by music videos because these short films (with stories) dictated - to the day dreamers - what to think, and promoted - for the mindless - to think about stuff when you heard the song.

At the very least, Taylor Swifts video was better because it made a song, which I dislike, bearable while I watched the story in the video.

Beyonce's video might as well be a stage performance. (one of the worst kinds of music videos.)


Beyonce's Video


Taylor Swift's Video

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Sitting Places

There's an irony to how much sitting is involved in traveling.


Planes are fucking stupid.
I tend to avoid going to theatres because I can't smoke during the movie. Not being able to smoke on planes is something I can live with.

But I take it as a big Fuck-You when they tell me I can't smoke, every two minutes between check in and take off, and then make me stare at a picture of a fucking cigarette for 3 hours.






Sitting in bleachers is fucking stupid too.

If it's not the kid grinding his fidgeting knee into my leg,
the prospect of getting fucked by a total stranger when passing money and food between myself and a vendor,
or having to weigh the cost::benefit of pissing your pants vs. stepping on the hand of some mechanic's girlfriend,
then it's definitely the tobacco chewing, Midwestern homophobe singing to country music and bleacher dancing between my legs.