Wednesday, July 15, 2009

The Mystery Fan...and some other stuff.

So last week, as I came on to my blog to make a post, I noticed a new follower. Most of my followers are from GitP, and I know them to some extent. But this person was not only an unknown face, but a very pretty face as well.

Enter the typical male way of thinking. Hmmm...a babe is following my ramblings. I wonder if she's local. I wonder if she's single. I wonder what she looks like naked. Then, after dismissing the thoughts that make me seem like a stray dog looking for a bitch in heat, I checked out her information. No, she is not local. No, she is not single, (although I think she will be if her husband doesn't start thinking with the head on his shoulders). And as for my last train of thought, there's no polite way to ask, "Can I have pictures of you wearing very little or nothing?" It's just not polite.

Then I did what I always do when I see someone being overwhelmed by various things in life: I offered to help. It's not as though I coughed up the wisdom of the ages and turned her life into a veritable paradise with what I said. But it's my bothersome caring about other humans that made me leave a comment on her last couple of posts. (How many times must I tell you folks? "I hate people. I hate people because I care about them. And if I could care less, I'd like people more." It's how I decided to become a "barbarian monk.") Amidst the first comment, I offered her to leave a comment with her e-mail address. Since I censor the comments to avoid trolling and flaming, her information would stop with me, and we could just talk.

Nope. No message. And I deem this unfortunate because it seems as though she has no one who genuinely cares. It would be nice if she lived somewhere in the U.S. and we could at least have a fling...once she's single, mind you. Married women are a no-no for me. But better yet would be another friend whom I could talk to, and one that she could talk to. We all need friends. Some like to believe otherwise, but to have someone out there who cares without judgement is a wonderful thing.

Speaking of friends...With each passing day, my need for help grows. It feels so wrong to seemingly be so demanding, but the panic is coming, and it's getting worse with each passing day.

There is, however, good news. With my future move to TN, things should become more affordable for me. The rent Stu is asking is 25% less than what I currently pay. And having been to TN once, I know other things are less expensive out there. I look forward to a time when I won't be begging every month, just so I can get by.

And about that move! Oh, my apartment management doesn't know who they've messed with. I asked as politely as possible to be let out of my lease ONE MONTH EARLY! They gave me some BS story about it being illegal, and how I would be held financially responsible for a month of rent where I wasn't even living here. This, my friends, doesn't fly well with me, and seems very wrong. So I looked around online for my apartment complex's various advertisements online. My immediate thought was, FALSE ADVERTISEMENT! These people are misrepresenting their property all over the place in a feeble attempt to make it seem like paradise. For example, they advertise "sparkling pools." Well, the pools aren't heated, and are only open during the summer months. (Other complexes have pools open all year round.) And the pools do, indeed, emeralds, what with them being green with bacteria half the time. And - oh look! - on site laundry rooms!...that are broken most of the time, and the laundry rooms are filthy. And I must say that the collection of bird droppings on the mailboxes, especially near mine, are something special. Not a good something special, but something special nonetheless. (Those are only a few issues here.)

Quick! To the FTC! I filed a formal complaint with the Federal Trade Commission online, and then called to ask how long it takes for such claims to be investigated. Oh, I just loved it when the representative said those magic words, "class action lawsuit." Then, to top it off, they gave me the number to Arizona Attorney General, as what I had to say about my lease made the representative scratch her head and say, "That doesn't sound right."

All this because of the one month for which they won't release me. You see, they don't seem to know that I'm Jewish. We Jews come genetically attached to a lawyer. And I'm so fed up with their gross negligence that pushing me too far was not difficult. Their lives are about to be turned into a living hell, and I'm pleased to say that I'm the one bringing it to them.


Hmmm...It feels good to at least pretend I'm evil. I should do this more often. my mystery fan, I welcome communication if you so desire it. To my friends, please, please, please see if you can help. And to my landlords, I give the "one-finger salute," and I don't mean a thumbs-up. =P

EDIT: Wait a minute! I just noticed something on my fan's blog. I DO know this person! "Quick, the Bor-Cave!"

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