all the way to timbuktu
alright. explanations. or not. what do i care?
the new mexico thing? we own a house in new mexico. we would prefer to not own a house in new mexico, but there you have it.
a few months ago, we put it up "for sale or lease" with the idea that we would see which happened first.
this lady rented it for a year. then proceeded to yammer on and on about how she wanted to buy it when her lease was up. it was for fucking sale when you signed the lease!! then she wanted us to drop money to make improvements. our realtor suggested waiting until she had actually put down "good faith" money towards the buy. we agreed. then she was late with every subsequent rent payment. which didn't affect us that much, but wreaked bloody hell with the property management company.
then on wednesday, we get an email from the property management company: she not only paid late, but the check bounced. on top of that, we have had some interested buyers who have been unable to view the house because she is being completely uncooperative with the realtor. did we want to start the eviction process?
of fucking course.
well, her son came forward, covered her bad check, and paid may's rent. i guess we will hold off and see how things go. but she is treading on thin ice, thin fucking ice i'm telling you, and better be beyond cordial to my realtor and potential buyers, or sod her sorry fucking ass!
friday seemed like it was going to be an unassuming day, with little or nothing really going on. i had sort of hoped to spend an extended session on the magnum crappus. on my way to work out, i saw there were a couple garage sales not far from me, so after my work out, and shower, i walked over to them.
and my day went from ho hum to fireworks and cotton candy and clowns in about a minute.
i went to one garage sale (crap) and then ambled over to the other on the same cul-de-sac, and there, shining before me, with a chorus of angels chanting heavenly odes behind it, was a drumset.
i, of course, do not get my hopes up. "how much you hoping to get for the drumset?" i ask as casually as possible, and with a look on my face that i already expect it is going to be more than i have readily available.
"oh man, that is my neighbor's and he just left. say, $20?"
blink blink. i fight the urge to look confused, ram my finger into my ear and corkscrew it back and forth in some exaggerated slapstick version of cleaning my aural canal and say, "wa-huh?!?"
"$20?" i say.
"20 bucks."
"i don't have 20 on me (i had 14, but there was no way i was going to try and talk this down. for my overseas readers, twenty dollars is about 12.85 euros, and about 10.16 in british pounds, (and 146.62 dirhams for lady macleod, heh heh) to say, "would you take 14?" would not just be looking in the mouth, but jamming myself right down the fucking throat of the proverbial gift horse!), but if you give me a sec, i will run to the atm."
"sure."
off i go. now, not only am i thinking i am going to get the cash, but this will also give him time to get on the horn with his neighbor so his neighbor can say, "what the fuck?!? are you outta your goddamn mind?"
but when i get back, he's still sticking to the 20 bucks. he mentions that it isn't all there. which i already knew. but the bulk of it is, and it is even a pretty decent kit (the hardware and shells that i had were running upwards of 600 dollars online when i got home). so i blew the entire day setting it up, fine-tuning it, figuring out what i still needed to start playing it, looking online for parts and additions, dusting it off, hugging it, rubbing myself against it, calling everyone and having them come over to check it out, and waiting for the irate neighbor to come storm my garage and demand his drumset back, or at least more money.
i figure if i am thrifty and bide my time for the stuff i need to appear in used and inexpensive condition, i can put the whole thing together for about 220 dollars (including my initial $20 expenditure) and have a kit that is worth at least triple that.
i stepped on a gecko this morning. i didn't mean to. he kinda darted under my foot as i was putting it down, and i tried valiantly to prevent myself from squishing him (damn near fell down!) but alas, to no avail. i didn't smash him completely flat, but just enough, apparently, to kill him, and make his tiny body stick to the carpet. you know what else is icky? geckos' tails detach. and when they do, it is like when you remove the head from a chicken. the tail goes apeshit. now, imagine i just smashed a gecko, and am already feeling a little queasy and guilty, then try to remove it from the rug by the tail, which then snaps off and commences to whipping around like a crazed snake on meth. yeah. exactly. closest i have ever come to leaping up onto a chair and dancing around whilst shrieking, i can assure you.
and to the non-existants who have commented on older posts, i have only just recently discovered that you had, but today i commented on your comments. and ms anonymous, welcome to the fold of non-existants, i will probably add your blog to the pals list soon.
i am, kinda, still slogging away at the magnum crappus. it is slow going. but i am.
and no, i don't feel like i have to have a clever ending to every post.
darth sardonic
the new mexico thing? we own a house in new mexico. we would prefer to not own a house in new mexico, but there you have it.
a few months ago, we put it up "for sale or lease" with the idea that we would see which happened first.
this lady rented it for a year. then proceeded to yammer on and on about how she wanted to buy it when her lease was up. it was for fucking sale when you signed the lease!! then she wanted us to drop money to make improvements. our realtor suggested waiting until she had actually put down "good faith" money towards the buy. we agreed. then she was late with every subsequent rent payment. which didn't affect us that much, but wreaked bloody hell with the property management company.
then on wednesday, we get an email from the property management company: she not only paid late, but the check bounced. on top of that, we have had some interested buyers who have been unable to view the house because she is being completely uncooperative with the realtor. did we want to start the eviction process?
of fucking course.
well, her son came forward, covered her bad check, and paid may's rent. i guess we will hold off and see how things go. but she is treading on thin ice, thin fucking ice i'm telling you, and better be beyond cordial to my realtor and potential buyers, or sod her sorry fucking ass!
friday seemed like it was going to be an unassuming day, with little or nothing really going on. i had sort of hoped to spend an extended session on the magnum crappus. on my way to work out, i saw there were a couple garage sales not far from me, so after my work out, and shower, i walked over to them.
and my day went from ho hum to fireworks and cotton candy and clowns in about a minute.
i went to one garage sale (crap) and then ambled over to the other on the same cul-de-sac, and there, shining before me, with a chorus of angels chanting heavenly odes behind it, was a drumset.
i, of course, do not get my hopes up. "how much you hoping to get for the drumset?" i ask as casually as possible, and with a look on my face that i already expect it is going to be more than i have readily available.
"oh man, that is my neighbor's and he just left. say, $20?"
blink blink. i fight the urge to look confused, ram my finger into my ear and corkscrew it back and forth in some exaggerated slapstick version of cleaning my aural canal and say, "wa-huh?!?"
"$20?" i say.
"20 bucks."
"i don't have 20 on me (i had 14, but there was no way i was going to try and talk this down. for my overseas readers, twenty dollars is about 12.85 euros, and about 10.16 in british pounds, (and 146.62 dirhams for lady macleod, heh heh) to say, "would you take 14?" would not just be looking in the mouth, but jamming myself right down the fucking throat of the proverbial gift horse!), but if you give me a sec, i will run to the atm."
"sure."
off i go. now, not only am i thinking i am going to get the cash, but this will also give him time to get on the horn with his neighbor so his neighbor can say, "what the fuck?!? are you outta your goddamn mind?"
but when i get back, he's still sticking to the 20 bucks. he mentions that it isn't all there. which i already knew. but the bulk of it is, and it is even a pretty decent kit (the hardware and shells that i had were running upwards of 600 dollars online when i got home). so i blew the entire day setting it up, fine-tuning it, figuring out what i still needed to start playing it, looking online for parts and additions, dusting it off, hugging it, rubbing myself against it, calling everyone and having them come over to check it out, and waiting for the irate neighbor to come storm my garage and demand his drumset back, or at least more money.
i figure if i am thrifty and bide my time for the stuff i need to appear in used and inexpensive condition, i can put the whole thing together for about 220 dollars (including my initial $20 expenditure) and have a kit that is worth at least triple that.
i stepped on a gecko this morning. i didn't mean to. he kinda darted under my foot as i was putting it down, and i tried valiantly to prevent myself from squishing him (damn near fell down!) but alas, to no avail. i didn't smash him completely flat, but just enough, apparently, to kill him, and make his tiny body stick to the carpet. you know what else is icky? geckos' tails detach. and when they do, it is like when you remove the head from a chicken. the tail goes apeshit. now, imagine i just smashed a gecko, and am already feeling a little queasy and guilty, then try to remove it from the rug by the tail, which then snaps off and commences to whipping around like a crazed snake on meth. yeah. exactly. closest i have ever come to leaping up onto a chair and dancing around whilst shrieking, i can assure you.
and to the non-existants who have commented on older posts, i have only just recently discovered that you had, but today i commented on your comments. and ms anonymous, welcome to the fold of non-existants, i will probably add your blog to the pals list soon.
i am, kinda, still slogging away at the magnum crappus. it is slow going. but i am.
and no, i don't feel like i have to have a clever ending to every post.
darth sardonic
Labels: i have no life, if only memoirs were this easy to write, randomness
posted by darth sardonic at 12:54 PM
5 Comments:
My ex and I had a rental here in this town when we lived in Gunnison for about 10 years. When we finally came back, we found it had been completely trashed by the tenants. Our property management company sucked.
I mean how the heck do you get a telephone pole stuck inside of a root cellar?
Good luck and happy day with your drum set!
i am not really sure, z, but if you figure out, let me know.
hey look who found me again! sings the spam spam spam song from monty python
Had a crappy tenant or two myself... get rid of her and sell the joint is my recommendation! And stay off those geckos, they're bad for the heart.
hahaha indeed, sparx, indeed
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