I Call Her A Bitch

That's not her name, that's not her name. Her name is Kim. I prefer to call her a bitch. Even if that's not her name.

First of all, that wouldn't make any sense unless you've heard The Ting Tings, That's Not My Name. Now that you've heard the song it makes more sense, huh?

When I opened the door to go to dinner yesterday afternoon, a note fell to the floor. I noticed the logo as the paper briefly flapped open on it's descent to the concrete below. It was a note from the leasing company. Oh Joy!

If you've been following me on Twitter, which I'm sure you have been. What? You're not? Oh come on! All the cool kids are! You're missing out on some cool shit. I was called a failure by a stalker loser. He said everything I've ever tweeted was RUDE and ARROGANT. Hellloooo.. why wouldn't you want to follow me? Any ways, enough about him, more about me. I've been fighting with our leasing company about getting someone out here to fix it. I thought the note would be about how they were sorry they were taking so long, but it would be fixed soon. It wasn't.

The note said they would be by today to check out the property since they were taking over the lease. Fucking great! I have shit inventory spread all over the second floor! Over flowing bins, piles in chairs, clothes on racks, all on tables, E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E! I was too tired to clean up after dinner because I was a bit sore.

I woke up this morning cussing out every one and every thing that would (or not) listen to me. This is bullshit! Less than 24 hours notice? She can totally suck my dick! (I know I don't have one, but if I did...!) I'm not going to burst my ass cleaning this place for unwanted visitors who won't even fix my washing machine!

After double checking the leasing agreement, we realized we were in violation. I'm not on the lease. NYEBoy thought it would be best if we went down there to add me to it. I thought otherwise but I mumbled under my breath the whole drive there kept my thoughts to myself. Once we arrived NYEBoy told them why we were there. When NYEBoy told her our address, another lady popped up.

I knew exactly who she was. She didn't even have to say her name. Her name was Kim, our property manager. She's the bitch not returning my phone calls. She's the bitch in between me and my 2-5 ft piles of dirty laundry. I could tell she knew who I was, too. NYEBoy was scared. He wasn't sure if I was going to go batshit crazy on the lady or not. I kept my cool. I was very frank.

I promise this much, if my washing machine is not fixed by Friday (the part is due in then) and my neighbors don't start picking up their dog shit, I'm GOING to go further than batshit crazy. We pay our monthly note for fuck sake. We have rights too. I'm tired of getting pissed on and someone telling me it's rain. GO FUCK YOURSELF LADY!

Oh, we also found out some bad news this morning. I can't blog about it yet, but it really put a heavier stress load onto us right now. I'll blog about it when things are a bit more clear. Until then, if you hear loud noises, that's just me slamming down my shots of tequila on the table. Anyone want to join me?