A letter to my apartment building manager.

Dear Apartment Building Manager:

While putting freshly laundered sheets on my bed today, I noticed dried white spooge on said sheet.  But wait, I said.  How can this be???  For these sheets are freshly laundered. Thinking back I realized this also happened to me the last time I changed my sheets.  Hmmm... You know what!  I've only been getting spooge marks on my freshly laundered sheets since you crazy people changed to high efficiency, low water use machines.  Since I'm not over stuffing the machines and you bastards are saving on water, I'm going to blame you for the fact that your machines no longer have the umph to get dried spooge off my sheets.  Yes, I'm angry.  Very, very angry!  Take these non-effective water misting machines to your house and bring me a machine that actually fills with water to get my shit clean!  I don't care about the dolphins, I don't care about the oceans, I just want clean sheets!  Is that too much to ask for the ungodly amount you charge me in rent?  Is it?  I don't think so!

Your crusty sheeted tenant,
XXXXXXXXXXX

Resurrection

It's been almost a year since I've wrote anything here.  That is crazy!  I have plenty to bitch about.  Here I go...

Seriously?!?!

The scene:  Christmas eve in the elevator in the lobby of my building.
Elevator: (Enter Aaron, Aaron's partner, Bigger Older Lady [think Jabba the Hut], and her older husband carrying a bag of gifts).
Younger woman:  HOLD THE ELEVATOR! (As door closes)
Aaron:  (Arm in door to hold elevator)
All button's pushed and waiting for door to close.  Old man f*cking with his bag o' gifts infront of aforementioned elevator door.  Door still not closing...Man still f*cking around (what the hell is he doing!).
Jabba (I mean Older woman): You need to push the button (to Aaron).
Aaron thinking:  NO YOU F*CKING IDIOT!  YOUR HUSBAND NEEDS TO GET THE G-D DAMN BAG OUT OF THE FRIGGIN DOOR.
Husband finally moves bag (what was he doing anyway?).  Elevator door finally closes.
End Scene.

Yes, this did just happen.

Merry Christmas all!

Don't Call Me, I'll Call You!

What tells me that the end of the year is here?  Christmas lights...nope.  Holiday music...nope.  Gifts from family and friends...again the answer is no.  It is the multiple mailings begging, sometimes nearly pleading, for end of the year donations.  While I hate to see trees killed for absolutely no reason (that's right if you ask, I'm not giving) at least I can recycle them.  Here's what makes me feel like a mugging victim...those daily calls from call centers that aggressively pressure me for donations.  Just don't answer, right?  Tried it!  They call again daily until I answer them.  UGHHHHH! Here's what I won't be giving to this week:  breasts, the HRC and the police fund.  Here is the mantra I use with anyone, anyone who calls for donations: Take me off your call list (Motherf***er, ok that part I just think). Why?  Not that I don't believe in their causes but I find it to be so disrespectful for them to invade my personal refuge.  I enjoy giving to many organizations.  But once you call me...I'm sending your check to someone else.  I'll send it to someone who will leave me be.
Well, gotta go.  Time for me to write checks to organizations that don't have telephones.

"Give a Dirty Look DC" campaign

Walk 3 blocks, hear 5 horn blows.  Yup, welcome to DC!  Don't get me wrong, I love my chosen home.  The history, culture, politics, and the insulation provided by the federal work force to the financial woes of the rest of America.  But the local drivers and their horns will surely cause me to be a raging alcoholic in the sooner rather than later future.  So, here is my proposition for 2011...whenever someone blows their horn everyone in the vicinity should give a dirty, disgusted look to the driver of the honking vehicle.  Thus, my "Give a Dirty Look DC" campaign.  Let's let these asses know that we (yes, all of us standing in ear shot) have taken notice and couldn't be more disdainful of their behavior if we tried.  It's called informal social control and I think it will be a nice way to call these jerks out on their piss poor behavior.

Tell a friend!!!