Friday, January 16, 2009

screwing the figurative pooch

-13 degrees is what my comp thermometer is saying. the devil is saying, "nah, it's colder than that." i'm saying fuck all y'all.

alas, former landlords know no temperature at which to yield their fruitless efforts of attaining that fleeting bit of cash.

he'll listen to no ball of mercury.

now he harnesses and hones his abilities of subterfuge and depravity to help settle his bankruptcy woes, some little amount of paper nothings he's prepared to lie and rob and maybe even kill a couple of kids for.

that's why i've got a chair from the dining room table propped under the door knob of the front door and a piece of drum hardware ready to throttle the dickhead if he tries to come in this fucking house.

"you want it? come take it, motherfucker."

2 comments:

  1. Are you talking about those Sales One a-holes. I hope someone burns their building down.

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  2. yeah it's them. that resatka guy was lurking by our house the other day trying to say we were getting evicted if we didn't give him rent, even though we know he doesn't own the house anymore.
    i was pissed. i might smash the windows out of his car.

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