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the joys of renting

I just moved into a spacious and cheap 1 bedroom apartment in beautiful Lake City (across the street from Rick’s strip club). As I got settled in, it seemed to be working out fine for the first week or so. Then one morning I got out of bed and noticed my bare feet were wet and freezing. The carpet in the corner of my bedroom was soaked. “Sheeee-it” I thought to myself, the water could only be seeping up from under the floor possibly from under the foundation or a bad pipe. In any event, this leak will be a major repair; one that will probably require my displacement to a new apartment. Nothing could be more fitting since a major reason for moving from my last place was its bad state of repair. Here I am facing the same situation again not even a month later.

A few days later (yeah I suck at dealing with this sort of thing) I called the manager in to take a look (I’m sure I’ve contracted some fatal mold-induced illness in the meantime). He flipped but apologized profusely. I thought to myself “shit happens–I just don’t want to have to move again”. He said that while they fix it, I’m to occupy the adjacent unit, for the same rent (until it leaks, the ceiling caves, the wiring shorts, the plumbing ruptures or whatever else could possibly go wrong).

And so it goes.

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Timing

At a night club here in Seattle, I spotted a dude who frequented my former haunt in Sacramento. This was back in my early years of goth-poserdom (circa 1999-2002) that coincided with a rather lonely time in my life. Unlike me–for my regular attendance I actually met very few people there–this guy seemed to already know all the regulars (except me) and managed to befriend anyone new with relative ease. I wanted to meet people the way he did. I wanted to know his friends. But that never happened; I moved away from Sacramento and started a new life in Portland and then Seattle.

Running into this guy the other night struck a nerve. My girlfriend (of 5 years) and I have just separated and I know that I am destined to endure another stint of loneliness. Why did this guy have to reappear at this point in time to mark the occasion and amplify my insecurity?

Such is life.

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My MySpace got Hacked…

…This kind of business would never happen on blogger!
Come check it out yo: right here

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my old myspace got HACKED

Some ass-jacks hacked into my previous myspace account and shat out a bunch of endearing comments to my friends. My apologies to those of you who were privileged enough to receive them.

Incidentally, I’ve been trying to get some semblance of a replacement page up–the myspace server (or whatever) has been suckin’ some serious balls. Sooner or later this page will be back up proper.