“F”
Good morning, childrens! Today we’re going to learn about the letter “F”.
“F” is for FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
Ok I’m done. So here’s the update:
I called the landlord, Harold, on Tuesday and introduced myself.
“Hi I’m Eric Schneider, I live at your property in Scottsdale. Do you know who I am?”
“No.”
“Have you ever heard my name before?”
“No.”
“Well then we have a little problem.”
I told him the whole story about how the crazy ass bitch rented out both rooms of his condo, using a fake name, pretending to be the owner, and now she’s living on the couch, has no job, and she’s selling his furniture for extra cash.
Well good ole’ Harold almost had a heart attack. He really liked the part about the furniture.
“WHAT?!?! THAT’S MY FURNITURE!!! YOU CAN’T SELL IT!!! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OVER THERE?!?!”
“I’m sorry, Harold… it’s gone. Sold, paid for, picked up, and gone.”
I thought he was going to cry. Harold confirmed that Jools was supposed to be renting the place while his sister was away, but he hadn’t received a single penny of rent in over two months. The funny thing is Jools has been charging me $550 and Rob $450 per month, and guess what? Her rent to Harold is $800. She’s been pocketing all the money and using it to buy $50 meals every night and cocaine! I was actually relieved to find this out because there’s no way this story would be complete without a fucking drug addict. Did I forget to tell you she hasn’t paid the utilities either?
During my conversation with Harold, I told him, “Harold, I can only imagine what might be going through your head right now. However, I want you to know I am willing to do whatever I can to help you out. If you need me to make a statement to the police, or whatever, just let me know. In fact, if you want to have someone take over the lease on your condo; someone responsible, with a job, and references, I wouldn’t mind staying. Whatever you need.”
And what do I get for my efforts? What do I get for doing this fuck the favor of informing him of the scandalous shit going down here? What do I get for saving him from further financial loss and having to spend time and money finding a new tenant? A giant, straight on, full force kick to the fucking ball sack. Well, that and he also threatened to call the cops and change the locks, and informed me I’d be receiving an eviction order. That’s odd, my birthday isn’t for another 11 days, but one should never underestimate the generosity of your fellow man.
So I have to move out of here as soon as possible; preferably before that nut job, Jools gets back from Lake Havasu.
Before I moved in here, my father warned me to make sure these roommates were alright, and I told him “Yeah yeah… I know. They’re fine.” Needless to say, I didn’t take his advice. What fun would that have been?
Excuse me, can you pass me the cyanide?
