Thursday, March 19, 2009

home invasion, thats some real deal shit son. like some next level, other other type shit. like the shit that happened to me today. yeah, really.

some days you just have to ask yourself, fuck, what could bring me down more today, ?
oh shit, i know, coming home from work, to find your ladyfriends dress hanging on your doorknob. on the outside of the door, as in, in the hallway.

so heres the scene,
i had an exceptional deep taking sort of day, with a lot of dems , a few of those, and not enough of these. it lacked stacks and cheddah, and was full to the brim with american history x scenes. so i called it a blockbuster night, loaded up with some gummi bears and headed home to lick my wounds. 
but oh, whats this, a dress, hanging from my doorknob. 
why is it there?  is this perhaps a surprise visit from the sweet sugar momma that rocks a hard pounding style like no other.
 no, maybe it was accidentally left in the laundry, and some good samaritan decided to return it on my door , ? 
so many questions, and calls later, and i still have no answers.
the dress does indeed belong to the above mentioned young lady,
but heres where the trouble starts,
it was placed safely in the wardrobe INSIDE my loft, yesterday, and i havent moved it since.
how could it possibly have made it to its new resting place?
hmmmmmmm a question for the ages, or something a little more simple?

basically, someone with a key, decided that it was in their best interest to enter my scene, 'i dont know, maybe spend some time reminiscing?, ' look through my jawns, and then upon exit, leave me a little hint that they were there.
to rupture my shit, possibly get a rise out of me , hope that the maniac eyes arent just bullshit, and id fly off the handle or something. but i didnt, instead i decided to do what any self respecting man with num nums tattooed on his fingers would do,
i called maintenance to have the locks changed, and then called to police to file a report.(oh yeah, and blog about it)
harassment ?
 yeah im pretty sure it is,
childish ? 
without a doubt

shit is ill, and had best hasten itself
and essentially that shit will not stand

today, electronic love notes and the poh poh will be my inspiration,as they have served me well.

so now for some other type shit (note, single other)
my loft is starting to feel comfortable, like it is aware of the impending domestic bliss to come.
my neighbors? still cold saucy cunts that make loving that goes to three, burn everything once edible, and stomp around like gorillas presenting themselves.

have you no shame

you might not understand a lot of what i wrote above, and thats okay, some people dont get it, fuck, some people just cant read,
the basic idea ?

get fucked, and take yer shitty neck with you , cause i sure as hell dont appreciate you looking at mine

1 comment:

  1. picture this scene as well: my brother comes home from work to his basement apartment. His bed is located directly under one of those basement windows that are wide and skinny up near the ceiling.

    On his bed lies a 14lb. bowling ball with a note in the finger hole that says "sleep with one eye open".

    Knowing full well who did this (similar situation to your's, albeit much more maliscious), and trusting his gut instinct, the bed was repositioned for the reamiander of his stay in that apartment.

    And I can totally agree with the part about "burning everything once edible" because when I was there, that hallway smelled like something that was unrecognizable, yet may or may not have been food.