Damn it all to pupperoni!

Well, Gale is off.

You see, for some reason, in the time animal control had her...no one thought to, oh, I don't know, examine her, before placing her out for adoption. So it was quite a surprise that the dog had a pup last night. Right, you have the dog a week, that we know of, and you don't bother to examine it in that time? How the hell do you know they don't have rabies and stuff exactly, then?

If we want to wait on Gale, it'll be two months of my mom being in an even deeper funk. Gale was helping her get over Wrinkles, helping her feel better. Right. So, I wonder, do shelter workers even fucking EXAMINE the dogs? At all? Gale will be living in a foster home during that time and we'll have first choice. Yeah, dude. We've been this route. Mom lost another dog because of puppies through rescue. This is becoming a joke, I swear to god. I'm starting to think that the rescue system can go to hell with all the "unexpected babies." It's really easy - examine before placing. Seriously. Not difficult.

Now my mom feels like shit and I'm pissed off an angry. Fantastic.

Here She Comes....

So! We all know Wrinkles was put to sleep last July, yes? If not, here's the post. For the longest time, Mom thought she had killed Wrinks instead of setting her free of pain. Recently, about 2 months ago, she started consider getting another dog. I am an aficionado of Petfinder by now; I was already proficient to begin with. She's been interested in some breeds: Havanese Silk Dog, Papillion, Yorkie, Shih Tzu, Lhasa Apso to name a few. She contacted a Havanese breeder, but apparently, you can love a dog too much. For 1400, um, I'd think that would be a good thing. But moving on.

She backed off for a bit then I showed her a pic of this adorable dog named Wilma. Wilma had unexpected puppies and that pushed her date back, what with Bam Bam and Pebbles being in the world and all. Cool. We had 2 months to wait, but we'd be able to. However, I think the receptionist of the rescue was bugnuts. She said a) they weren't taking names or applications - even though Mom had filled one out already, and b) Wilma magically no longer appeared on the website. Personally? I think Wilma went to a friend of a rescue worker. Call me crazy, but it was just too WTF.

Mom was kinda depressed for a couple days and went back to Petfinder. She kept printing out Paps, which is great, but I don't think she'd like to take that much care of the groomer. That's a lot for a 75-year-old woman, let's face it.

So Monday night, she spent the night with me because we were meeting her CPA for lunch out here. Yesterday after lunch we were going to look for animals at Fulton County Animal Shelter while out here, but dude, who the hell can find it? So I said fuck it and went to the one in her home county. Five minutes and she walked out, max. She wasn't into it. So I was pissed because a) that was a bitch to find and b) she wasn't understanding the fact finding another Wrinks was impossible. So I lambasted her. We got back to her house. I was fuming still. I explained why she needed to go meet the dogs and understand that there will be no other dog like her. Finally it sunk in.

Made her get the clothes back on and we went back (again, during the beginning of traffic on a very weird highway that also has two stoplights at busy intersections). I pointed out the one I thought she'd like....the same one I showed her the first time.

We got the dog out and the lady went to see if the dog had any holds on her. She didn't. Outside, we got to know the dog. Such a lover! Stayed in our arms the whole time, except for when she had to pee and poop. Apparently she's house- and leash trained. Such a doll! We put a hold on her and pick her up next Tuesday. Has to get spayed and checked out by the vet first. I can't wait! Mom fell in love instantly. She was a stray that was wandering about. At 2, the dog is a Chihuahua/Dachshund mix.

Afterwards we went and bought some basics (rain jacket (with duckies!) and sweater), water & food bowl, food mat, leash, harness, toys, shampoo & washing glove, and beds. Oh! And food and treats. She's gonna be so lovely to have around for my mom, and my instincts were right. I know her so well. I can't wait to meet her personality. Got a doxie body with a dox muzzle and one ear that goes up and one down. Oh my gosh. I can't wait to have pics to show you.

The name choices so far are: Charlie, Chloe, and Maya. More to be added as I look for soft, feminine names. I need to look them up this week on homework break.

My former BFF also found her German Shepherd mix puppy there, too. She goes home today.

Now! The interesting part. Our Animal Control moved in Sept 2007 to this great facility that has 33,000 sq feet. It has a bigger area for the K-9 unit, a barn for livestock, and a spay/neuter facility on hand. That means you can find an interesting mix. On the first visit, looking out the back of the dog's viewing area, I looked up and blinked. Really, really blinked. Why would that be, you ask? Glad you asked!

There.Was.A.Mid-sized.Bull.Calf.Out.Back. Talk about freak out! I was a little leery, what with the calf having the horns already. Apparently, it was theirs now to find a new home for and caged in for now until the pen was ready. I still gulped. A lot. And there were two men outside with him. Strange men. I was freaked out, still.

Asshole, star of the next Batman movie!

Okay, so he's baaack. I haven't given him a bit of attention, been thinking but not acting on him, and what happens? He calls me. I never did answer my phone, or call back. But Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What the hell can I do? So I get curious, because he only wanders over to me when the A and B girls dry up.

Snooping, I go read his journal entry on LJ. What does he talk about? Babies and scary dreams. *sigh* Question answered. Dude, I'm not a human incubator. Go. Away. I haven't blocked the number, really no cause since I don't answer.

But here's what I've done since unceremoniously deleting him. Ready?
+ Deleted him from my private journal entries.
+ Blocked him from actually being able to comment on said journal.
+ Do not answer any communication. (Seriously, hello clue, much?)
+ Don't keep up with him at all.
+ Asked my mom if I can borrow a male relative to go kick his ass.

*sigh* I don't wanna be a Grade A, kick your ass and eat your balls bitch. I'm trying my best. But he's really not making it easy. I'm not a damn rabbit, so stop playing chase.

(Post title because I'm catching up on Gail Simone's awesomeness with Birds of Prey. Yes, yes I am a geek. For an explanation of breaking the fourth wall, I came up with: Ferris Bueller, Saved by the Bell, Deadpool, The Boy from Oz, and Doctor Who all on my own. Oh, yeah. Geek girl.)

I can't wait until my best friend T comes to town for Dragon*Con. God help him if he crosses her. *grins* Girl-o will bust his ass down...then call in the military for a little back up. *draws hearts all over T's internetness*

And the Asshole goes on...

So, yesterday, Asshole called. I was asleep, purposely avoided the phone, and ignored the message until 13 hours later. Now, you have to admit, that's some serious restraint. But mostly 'cause I'm beating my head against the wall over the 11th Doctor choice. Anyway, so I listened.

"Hi this [Asshole] just calling to wish you a Happy New Year."

What the fuck? I blocked him from my other journal entirely. He's not on my list and I banned him. I just want him to go. away.

I'm gonna have to get shitkickery. I don't want to. I really don't. I don't like being the best bitch this side of Sunnydale for no good reason. I might be Queen Jessica, cousin to Queen Cordelia, but damn. Even I need a break.

The Adventures of Asshole

So earlier today I was getting ready to shower to over to my godmom's when Asshole called.

Why? Glad you asked!

He has created a board game that's actually sold a fair amount for an independent. And he wanted me to test out with people. Right. Haven't heard hide nor hair for 2 weeks, since he called me anyway. His first statement? NOT "Hello." No, no. Not this asshole. It was "So I'm looking for people to test out [name not given because asswipe doesn't deserve the publicity.]." Right. I'll just take that time right now.

"No, I can't today. I have to go to my godmom's."
"What about Tuesday?"
"Can't. Doc appointment."
"At 7pm?"
"Then I have to go to my godmom's." Liiiiiar that I am.
"Oh, okay."

Then I, being the confused that I am, keep talking but stop mid-sentence after telling that my stepdad's coming over to fix my apartment a bit. I was tired of carrying the conversation and it was only 2 minutes in. Instead I decided to spend the next ten minutes starting a sentence, stopping, and letting it hang. He couldn't carry a conversation with me. Me. I'm like the easiest person to talk to because I have a wide variety of topics.

And the oddest thing he said? "Happy showering." Happy. Showering. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?

Well, shit. That hurts my heart.

Yeah, see this is why Asshole is called Asshole.

He pursues me for almost 2 months. Meets me. Suddenly I'm not his cuppa. Because hey, I'm fat and don't look like an an anime character brought to life. Or that's what I'm assuming since he never said a damn thing about it. Look, asshole. If I can overlook the fact you play D&D like it's the end of your world, you can adjust. You had no problem telling me how every way you wanted to fuck me before you meet me now didcha?

Disappears for a fucking month. No note, no letting me know. Turns out, he was in Berkley/San Fran to see family. Okay, whatever. We weren't even dating, much less a relationship.

Calls me when he gets back. First time in like 6 weeks. Oookay. I talk to him. Stupid, stupid me. Since I haven't heard from him since.

Finally updates his blog about his vacation. Learn that he had another girl in his bed for 5 days recently. Didn't make a move. Supposedly. Which, I actually kinda believe because he's a chicken shit. And then he apparently went on a date with someone else. Please note that when I kept saying I'd go on a date with him, even point blank, he ignored it. Before he met me. And still tried to hook up with me. I'm not a piece of ass and I'm not for sale.

Fuck it. I'm tired of this shit.

I'm gonna be celibate forever. It doesn't hurt nearly as much as that kind of disregard.

Kiss. My. Ass.

You know it's bad when we make Detroit look well-organized. We have a mayor that's truly bad at math. She's horrible at it. Her proposed budget is so backwards it's pathetic.

Because jobs aren't important.
For once, I'm all for violence.
Short and sweet.
God, I hate this woman.

How the hell do you have a 140 million dollar shortfall? Look, I just passed my math retarded classes. If I can manage to see the major issues, then she damned well should. So to be a politician do you need to fail 3rd grade math?

We're in the top 10 for foreclosures. People can't afford a 300k condo, so what does people do? Keep the prices up when the cheaper homes are flooding the market. This is not NYC. It's not. We're a big town, but we're not that damn big. Lay off a ton of people, and those tax hikes will be even higher because of waves of barely making it people leaving the town. This is not difficult. People who are laid off can't afford the 40 million tax increase. Hello? God, the stupid is astounding. Someone needs to make her a Pie Chart of Doom, like the one that in the JKR vs RDR lawsuit. Christ on a battered and dipped cracker.

I'm seriously considering having my godmom not move into the city if prices are gonna skyrocket. It's not worth paying so much on a condo.

Classified under D for Dumbass

Gee, it amazes me that people are upset when a zoo animal gets out. I kinda wanna choke a bitch, a lot of them, when that happens. Why? Because, dude, we're caging them like they're a fucking stuffed animal. Hey, dumbasses, any time you go near a wild exhibit, you're taking a chance. Just because they're nice one minute, doesn't mean that we can't upset them more the next. God, the stupid in the world is mind boggling. Especially since they shoot the animal. Hey, here's an idea. Let's shoot the stupid motherfuckers that taunt the wild animals behind the glass.

There are parts of Atlanta Zoo I don't feel comfortable in. Namely the gorilla exhibit. There's too much free roam space that the gorillas can hop from one place to another. Sorry, but I like having a sense of security and some self-awareness. I know that the gorillas could throw a fit and throw me eight ways to Sunday. It's a fascinating concept, self-awareness. I wish more people used it.

If a dog or cat can attack their human, and they're supposedly domesticated, then so will the creatures we plucked from the wild in order to "conserve" and mostly gawk at. Not complicated, folks. I'm sure something that would be pretty much isolated if people didn't have the urge to sprawl and claim land, fucking up the planet, isn't going to be too keen on humans. We killed the animals to damn near extinction. That doesn't mean we get to play gawk at the freaked out animals. Nothing likes to be put on display, poked and prodded at, dealing with strange people all the time, to be annoyed by sticky fingered people that insist on tapping on glass or screaming bloody murder when they spot the animal all the way at the other end of the enclosure because they've had enough.

Sorry, the dead and mauled get no sympathy from me. If you aren't aware that a wild animal, caged or not, is just that then you deserve to be bitch slapped by them. Locking them up does not domesticate any animal. It only stresses them out more.

I weep for humanity.

This is why we can't have nice things...

So, I ignore the news around Atlanta pretty often. Come on, y'all have seen the utter shit from the local news being picked up worldwide has produced. Imagine that every single day. Yeah.

So what did I find when I randomly tuned in earlier today? Oh, I found this. Apparently sex offenders? Have the total right to live around small children. Because clearly all the psychologists are wrong, and people aren't repeat offenders. That it's curable. Uh huh. Right. I wonder how many people clapping about this law overturn actually realize what really goes on in offenders' brains during that. I mean, it's not like there's research on it or anything. Oh, wait.

God, this is why my stupid state can't have jack. Because they're all a bunch of moronic idiots with the IQ of a decomposing fish. Good lord. The stupid is mind-boggling, I think.

Step right up and witnesss the invisible fat person

Just in case I forgot, shopping is pain in my ass. You see, I'm short, fat, and have DDs. This means I must look like goddamn Granny Grunt-Grunt. And, frankly, I'm tired of looking like a 65-year-old grandmother at the ripe age of 26. Seriously. I get it. I'm an infuckingvisible ninja in the world. Never mind how many people are overweight in the fucking country, we're all invisible. Just ask the fashion industry since a size 8 is plus sized. And I can please just add that what looks good on Kate Moss will unequivocally not look good on my ass. And I'm so damn tired of seeing the same goddamn designs and trends in the big people section. Seriously, get the fuck over it designers. It. Doesn't. Look. Good. Ever.

All I wanted was a fucking winter jacket. I hate going top shopping at Lane Bryant's. See the last part of my rant. And I'm sorry that I don't fucking starve myself. SO glad I'm represented. This is why I hate shopping. Because there's nothing like making a customer like a goddamn waste of space to up confidence. It's just bad when the men's sections don't fit cause you've got DDs now.

So...Drano? Looks like a terrific option. Truly. Cause this was just the cake after being told I need to take meds cause I'm spilling protein in my urine and my kidneys need to be taken care of now. Fantastic. I'm 26 with a body of a fucking 65-year-old.

I'm sitting here trying to battle back tears, and my godmom coming in and shooting off places to try (that I've already TOLD her I marked off for good reasons) and not LISTENING to me when I say "No" doesn't help. Christ.

I'll take that Drano cocktail now.

Double U turn to the T around the block to F

I...I...

Tarina linked me to this fabulous piece of journalism. Anus starting to smell like a litter box? Pussy not perky enough? Well, these surgeries and procedures are for you! Just call up your local overpriced plastic surgeon and look like a mutant for only five grand! What a bargain. Call now and get a handy dandy supply of Depends for those times you need to pee and can't quite get to where you to be fast enough. Just throw them away as soiled.

People scare me. A lot.

Kiss My Grits, Mel!

I am so damn tired of being an adult, as in a fucking partner for my godmom. Dude, I've been an adult since I was born, having to deal with my parents foolishness, and that counts her too. She alternates between treating me like I'm her fucking husband to a three-year-old. I'm tired of dealing with her 30-year-old thoughts on Atlanta. Hi, it's changed. Areas have changed. I'm tired of dealing with her crap about "I don't know if I can handle a house" and when I say "fine, we'll just cancel that whole part of the search!" She goes "No, we need to look." Look, woman. You're 73-years-old. Grow a goddamn backbone! I shouldn't have to be the one to pick out everything! I'm not your husband! I'm your kid!

She won't even pick out the restaurant to eat at. She tells me to. Dude, seriously, grow a fucking pair. I'm 25, and I've been surrounded by her negativity all my life. And I love her, and I babied her so I created part of this mess, but come the fuck on! I'm so over this. She acts like I don't know a thing about house hunting. Oh, sure. I only look shit up daily, looking at prices and what we can afford. 220,000-250000 is not what it was five years ago, lady. The prices have gone up. Inflation happened. Please, I don't pull this shit out of my ass. I pay attention. I'm so over it!

I want my own place. I want my own space. I don't need someone up my ass 24/7. She just walks into my room, and sits down. Because she's bored. And she'll hound me to death. Seriously, I get the same nagging comment about six-seven times a day. Ugh, lady. I just. I'm so over this. I know I'm not in a position to be on my own. Hell, I don't even have a car since I sold it the other day (junkmonster's gone, thank god). But god knows I could use a way out. I'm seriously about to crack. It's compounding. Do you know how TIRED I am of listening to her human equivalent of "nom, nom, nom" EVERY. SINGLE. BITE. she takes? And a huge breath. And her fucking neurosis about her weight. Dude, you're 73. You're not gonna be a size 4 anymore. Get. The. Fuck. Over. It. I swear she has an eating disorder. She'll eat like a piece of cheese toast for bread, a candy bar for lunch, and half of whatever sets out when she makes for dinner. And she always goes "I'm so full." And don't get me started on her passive aggressive shit. I can't say one thing without it being held against me for fucking decades. Seriously, she brings up shit I did when I was like 11.

I'm 25. How about giving me a little credit? I've survived a pretty fucked up childhood, came out fairly mentally in tact, working on changing that even better. I'm just...so over this. Honestly, all I want is to be given a little downtime, for me. I shouldn't have to worry about her shit and mine, because she acts like I'm her partner. Dude, I get it. Finances are tight. But if I say something? I'm treated like shit, even if she wants my opinion and asks for it.

I'm going to lose my mind in the next couple months. I can feel it starting. I've gotten like this more than once. Hell, even in the past seven years, at least twice. I just. God, is it such a big deal to let me be a normal 25 year old every once in while? Really, is it that hard?

I'm about five minutes from a great big, giant crying jag. Because the stress is unreal.

Holy Capers, Batman!

Just a quick check in blog.

A) I'm doing my best to finish up my schedule for school. Hopefully I'll get to go in next three days. That's right, they're being that slow. Aren't they fabulous? I haven't been trying to get all squared away for the past two months and holds pop up one at a time, instead of a normal checklist. Oh, and school starts on the 20th.

B) I've been setting up a non-livejournal fandom account, since I'll be moving from there. Seriously, when you make AT&T look downright courteous, you got issues.

C) Been reading up on Livejournal/Six Apart's dumbass moves. Seriously, folks. If you have your employees mocking the userbase, they tend to not be happy. Along with being lumped in with pedophiles. We're crazy like that.

D) Walmart's can suck Dom Deluise's hairy balls! That's all I'll say on that.

E) This 102 degree heat sucks like a Hoover on shag carpet.


Misty, I'll do the memey thing after I take my pic. Give me a couple days, yeah? Now, I'm going to bed so I can go take a dumbass test I know I'll fail and have to be in Math 98, instead of college level algebra. Go team me! Or something.

Now I go to bed. Hopefully this is the last hold I have on my record.

Boo Motherfuckers

Oh, LJ/6A you fail so hard it's insane. So, once again, people are getting TOSed, without anyone clarifying what's TOSable. Apparently common sense went out the window. I keep my LJ for my fandom things. That's the whole point of that account at this point, and I'm not going to link it either. It's where I can put shit y'all don't care about, and I'm a complete feedback whore, so instant gratification is a blessed thing.

Now, I don't particularly like Snape and Harry relationships, or any student/teacher. I never have, wasn't my kink. Chan/lolita/whatever the hell else you call makes me squick the fuck out and run and hide. But I also didn't judge other people. How could I? Dude, I read Harlequin romances...and am proud about it. I have no room to judge. So, they're cracking down because the wackos at Perverted Justice are on them this time. Seriously? These people fail so hard at business sense that it's astounding. Y'all, fictional characters? Get the same treatment as real people. Uh huh. That whole 'fiction isn't reality' thing is a blurry line with these fools.

I'm not gonna hash it out much more, because well, I've been looking at it all damn day, and why I haven't visited many blogs. It's just insane. LJ/6A needs to go back to business 101. If you piss off your customer base, it will leave. When it leaves, advertisers won't stick around. Then you have a waste of money, and you'll have to close something you paid a lot of money for. Dude, if I can figure this out after one marketing class, then they're totally fucked.

Oh, and the Supreme Court? Totally the best thing to model anything on for the obscene laws. The same Court that said fiction couldn't be obscene, because it is in fact not real. And LJ/6A is the same company that said that fan fiction and art was safe, three months ago when they did the first dumbass shit of deleting and permabanning people without investigating. *sigh*

Make the stupid stop. Make it stop.

Death By Chili

The other day, my godmom and I went to Steak N Shake, as we usually do once a week or so. Ate some food, grabbed three or four cans of chili to go.

Skip to now. I'm looking something up for my other mom, bread that has metal in it or something. She didn't hear because we were talking on the phone. Bopping along on our ABC affiliate's website, scouring but couldn't find it. And what do I find under the consumer report?

Castleberry Hill's recall on botulism. And guess what? There's been a recall on Steak N Shake chili with the 195 lot. Yes, that's right. The same lot we ate. Lovely! My godmom said it tasted funny. Was it the taco chips? No, we'd just opened them a week before. Guess we know why it tasted funny, huh?

Bad Moon Rising

Since Augs was feeling down, I decided to tell a tale on myself....from high school. Yes, the place that always makes you feel stupider than dog shit and twice as unimportant.

Now, I had a friend named Patricia, who in an interesting turn of fate had the same name as that friend that decided her best friend wasn't as important anymore. She says, "Hey, the guy you're dating? Hit on me." That is one thing that will turn me into a screeching harpy. Hello, look at my family for reasons why. So, I'm of course gonna believe her, cause she's one of my best friends. Anyway, I confront him on our next date (which, for the record, was really only like our third/fourth, but you know high school dating). Long short, we break up. I'm upset and stuff, right?

Well, we have a business class, either keyboarding or more indepth of learning MS Office, can't remember which. I decide on the final day, where we actually took finals, to dress up in a dress, tights, and heels. Of course, I'm not a skinny mini, so I wear those girdle things. You know, the ones your grandma wears. Yeah, those. So I wear that with a dress. And I hate dresses, so much. Cause, dude, that requires tights/hose and those are bitch to deal with.

So I'm done with the final, and I need to go tinkle. I get a pass, go the 100 feet to the girls', do my thing and come back. I sit in my seat and when the bell brings, I'm ready to go. I've done the whole "Dude, you totally fucked up" thing girls do. As I'm walking to next period, and halfway there, some girl runs up and goes "You're dress is in your panties."

Oh, yes. Folks. I was showing my granny panties to the world! I was so embarrassed, I wanted to die. And I wanted to choke some females that hadn't told me. Not so great on a 10th grade ego, you know? I pull it down, right there, not caring because hello, I'm showing the world what I'm wearing, and I'm just so mortified. Because of all the work of finding a dress that I looked good in, was all jazzed up about making him pay...and all for nothing. I ended up looking like a fool. That's not very good with me. I don't suffer personal foolery well. Like, at all. So I'm hoping the day ends soon because it's like three days before break and I really, really don't wanna be remembered as Showgirl Wonder.

And the kicker? I found out in the end that he didn't make a pass at her. She was just lying cause she was jealous. I was not pleased when I found that out. I think if I'd been in a more pissed off state of mind I'd have smacked the girl all the way to Kalamazoo, as in the Michigan city, y'all. Of course, he did end up dropping out of high school the next year, but still! Damn it, that was my fellar. Bitch.

I completely give up

I love my godmom, I really do. I put up with her bullshit because I do. But this for the birds! The real estate agent she has is making big promises, and then insults and talks down to us. I don't mean a snappy comment here and there. I mean, full-on. Like, I look for condos in the market because my godmom asks me to. Since I have a computer, why not? I can find things, since I know what we like. Especially since our real estate agent doesn't listen to a damn thing we say.

It's like being between two passive-aggressive fools and a hard place. You see, my godmom wants to fire her, but doesn't want to hurt her feelings. EVEN THOUGH, said agent has said phrases like "FMLS has all the condos with your criteria. All you are doing is making my job harder," when I find something we might be interested in. I didn't have the MLS number. I got it off Craigslist. But, it was listed by another agent, so it should be in the database. So I thought, hey, she can call and ask. I gave all the info I had. There were three of them. She's also said things "I am going to send you everything from 200K to 250K with your criteria. THIS IS EVERYTHING. You are wasting your time searching Craig's List. Everything I am sendng you is ALL THERE IS." I later found the one we were more interested in by doing a quick look on the site that was referenced on Craigslist. If I can do it, she can spend 10 minutes looking up like I did. And this is her usual conversational speed when being an agent, apparently.

Now my godmom called earlier, trying to say "Hey, we don't like being treated like crap." Agent pretended to not hear her. At all. So she emailed me through my godmom's email since that's what we're using as the main one, "I am a Certifed Real Estate Appraiser and know the value of things." And later on in the email, she said, "Every time you make out a rent chck you are losing money." You can see why I'm fed up with this lady. She doesn't listen, makes those smarmy comments, and it gets old. Fast.

My godmom still wants to use her, but goes, "I feel like I'm in a hard place between you and her." I'm sorry, what?! I'm sorry I don't want you treated like a doormat because the agent wants a quick sale fast and is telling you, full stop, what you want and don't...and is unwilling to take you to the locations so you can see for yourself. She's done it from the beginning. It's giving my godmom ulcer problems for the past three or four days. We have another agent lined up, and she's like "Well, there's no reason we can't use both." Well, other than the fact the current one is telling us to take the first one we saw that we liked, on the first day, without looking at any other comparables, sure. And the fact she ignores everything you say, bullies and bosses you around. Tells you that your daughter's diabetes and elderly dog's care should be a second or third priority to getting a condo, absolutely. Why not believe she has your best interests at heart.

I finally just said "Fine, then don't take me into consideration." I'm sorry, I'm tired of getting four-five emails a day not listening, having to repeat the same goddamn statements of why we don't like this or that condo (like it'll need 15k in work before it's livable for her needs), and we keep getting shown the same thing and hammered to buy one that she can make quick money off of. Gee, that's a good reference. I'm so over that, though. Because she's making my mom physically ill. And my godmom just takes it rather than rock the boat. I'd rather rock the boat than be spoken down to like that, especially by someone that will earn a hefty commission check. Now mom's in another snit. Considering she never seems to get out of those, whatever. I'll just deal like I always do. But I'm not apologizing and backing down this time. I don't think it's wrong to expect your real estate agent to treat you some courtesy.

But what do I know?

What? No, really, what?

Oh me, oh my. What a day. I woke up at 9:30, getting ready to go into town (Atlanta). About 10:30, I meet my mom in the kitchen, after eating breakfast and bringing it back in (she makes it). She goes, "I saw this lady crying on the stairwell, and talked to her, while taking the boxes out to the car." We were going to run to the storage room while in town. Now, not so much.

So, the lady ends up knocking on our door. Apparently she'd been in a fight last night and walked about 5 miles to get here. Can we take her back to her house? Sure, we say, since my godmom asked earlier. I get dressed to take her. We (me, godmom, and lady) get in the car, she starts talking about what happened. The usual routine of "I was bruised, had a fight, I had to leave my kids." Right. You get the idea. Turns out, she knows of my mom. Right. That's a terrific recommendation, except totally not. So she keeps talking, and mama and I get keep getting a bad feeling.

She's living with her family, who are drug addicts and dealers. Greeeat. Go mama. Her mom had custody of her kids, but she died, so it reverted back to Jennifer, the chick. Riiight. Because they just took the kids away all willy-nilly. Me, I'm level-headed and I kept her from socking all the people she hated throughout the time. It comes from living with my family, I guess. She's calling the cops, DFACS (family services), her (ex-)boyfriend, her sister's ex (who was the one that let her in here), 911. We were there for 2 hours.

Let's see, her ex-husband, who is the father of two of three kids, was there next door. He had tried to break the fight up last night, and was pushed aside. She said, according to not!Depp (he looked a lot like Sparrow, which is kinda scary), that her kids were bastards and she didn't want him so he could have them. Her grandmother was gone, getting a TPO against her. Oh, yes. Her brother, the sex offender, was there in the house when he wasn't supposed to be. Her pregnant younger sister was there. Oh, god. It was a clusterfuck. Three cop cars, though one was a niiice truck. The truck was a deputy sheriff, the one she'd called in. Jennifer's screeching and acting like the fool, so the cops eventually get tired of her and threaten to take her to jail if she doesn't shut up. They're not really talking to her, so you know she was fucked up in the records department. She had a warrant out on her, too. Wonderful. My mom can land us in the strangest situations.

Long story short. After two hours of sitting with a chick we don't know, with some slight talking to the cops, we're really tired of this shit. Seriously, she's so white trash. Her ex-mother-in-law showed up, she started screaming at her, while I'm keeping an eye on my Blackberry that she's borrowing to make calls (thank god for 5000+rollover minutes). The cops have this look of "Oh, god. Let's just go home." Unfortunately, they can't. They're over this drama, like most sane people. The situation was fucked, a very vendetta all around thing. Jennifer and crew had the altercation last night, and she kept trying to bring that up, while the police were like "We can't deal with that." Oh, yes. These people were bright.

She had to go pee in a cup. Drug test. Thank god. She was getting on my nerves, to be honest. Even my infinite patience can be taxed out by druggies and trying to keep someone you don't know from slugging someone else you don't know.

One of the cops goes, "You don't have to stay here. Since you're just transport. You can just vamoose." And go we did. First we gave him our info. God, he was funny. He had hung his head down when Jennifer kept blabbing. Like "well, shit and damnation." You got the feeling he wanted us to leave, for safety matters. These folks were crazy. Though, both cops were all kinds of hot. I'd have gladly brought one home to keep.

We left her crap by the mailbox, where the cops pointed to. And we skedaddled, quickly. Had Arby's for lunch. Well deserved. We're having pizza for dinner, since we didn't unfreeze anything for dinner. You know, what supposed to be in Atlanta and all.

So that was my adventure. I was thisclose to landing into some white trash drug hell. *snort* I need to febreeze the hell out of the car, too. And take a long shower. And wash our clothes.

I forgot the best part! She was 30, had more than a few grey hairs, and had grandkids. Seriously. Grandkids that were like 2 or 3. *blinks* So how old were her kids that were having them? Thank god we dropped her off and fled.