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Dear looting fucktards -
Quit it. No one likes it that you're behaving like total dicks in the aftermath of this disaster. You're not helping, you are harming, and you're total fucking idiots. Food, one thing. Looting for racks of clothing, according to WWTL? Entirely another.
You are not proving that it's possible for humans to rise above their natures; you are probably proving once yet again that Americans are about the most spoiled people on the planet. If what you can think of in a life-or-death situation where the smart money says evacuation is a good thing and maybe being at the Superdome to be evacuated would be wise, is to enhance your material possessions and life, you have seriously fucking whacked out priorities and should be removed from the equation.
Also, it's tacky to loot at Wal-Mart. If you're actually going to loot, aspire to a higher standard than made-in-sweatshop cheap clothing.
Looting for something other than survival necessities should be a shoot-on-sight.
No love,
Me
Quit it. No one likes it that you're behaving like total dicks in the aftermath of this disaster. You're not helping, you are harming, and you're total fucking idiots. Food, one thing. Looting for racks of clothing, according to WWTL? Entirely another.
You are not proving that it's possible for humans to rise above their natures; you are probably proving once yet again that Americans are about the most spoiled people on the planet. If what you can think of in a life-or-death situation where the smart money says evacuation is a good thing and maybe being at the Superdome to be evacuated would be wise, is to enhance your material possessions and life, you have seriously fucking whacked out priorities and should be removed from the equation.
Also, it's tacky to loot at Wal-Mart. If you're actually going to loot, aspire to a higher standard than made-in-sweatshop cheap clothing.
Looting for something other than survival necessities should be a shoot-on-sight.
No love,
Me
Remember, kiddies, every time someone deletes a journal because of me, god gives me a shiny nickel.
I'm up to, uh, 45 cents, counting GJs and multiple accounts.
In an evening of utter crap (literally) this makes me feel slightly better. Somewhere out there, someone is miserable. And it is my fault.
In other news, the brother's dog had Exorcist-worthy diarrhea last night, evidently. I say this because the back door needs to be refinished, the blinds on the back door need to be replaced, and the carpet needs to be removed. Bear in mind that the first two are because of clawing. So, that's why it's an evening of utter crap.
Part of it.
The shouting man has got me to the point that I can't function at my apartment. I really can't. I was trying to write on Sunday and I kept thinking "He's about to start." There's nothing to be done until I can find him, and I didn't figure out how to find him until about an hour ago.
Now, however, his ass is mine, and I will find him and call the police. And then there will be no more shouting. I mean, y'all know me. I'm vulgar and mean and petty and take delight in the misfortune of others. And this guy's language offends me. That's on top of the not-being-able-to-work thing, though, not because of it.
Several people have suggested that this guy has Tourettes. Uh, no. Tourettes doesn't happen on a three-hour schedule every day. It's usually 7am-10am, though lately 10:30 am-1:30 pm has taken precendence. And there have been a few instances of 5:30am-6:15am, then a brief break and back onto the normal morning schedule. Oh, and a couple of right-around-9:45pm, and one after-11-pm.
The police receptionist who asked me last week if I thought hearing "I want a girl. I want a girl. I want a girl." over and over and OVER AND OVER at 7:30 am was "unreasonable" will die a horrible messy sporky death. By being molested by Satan. I want to see Satanic Syphilis here.
But that is merely repetitive. It is not the extent of his repertoire! Never fear, he has lots to say! "Goddamn *expletive*" is a top favourite. Once I heard him manage an extended discourse on "Goddamn phone always fucking ringing! Ring ring ring, always goddamn ringing fucking phone!" And on and on and on in that vein.
And then there is the grunting. Don't even ask about the grunting.
I actually was hoping he lived across from me because then I was going to get a gun. But apparently he lives in my building.
That's all right. The waterfall lady, who has a laugh like a really annoying waterfall (it's the "It's a Small World" ride of laughs), and likes to laugh outside at half five in the morning is in the building opposite me.
And so is the cellphone guy, but I kind of like him. I'm hoping for stock tips. All I know so far is that his friend got fired a couple weeks back.
So. That on top of everything else makes me a sad panda.
I will try to introduce people tomorrow, assuming I can even get up the energy to make my fingers work.
I'm up to, uh, 45 cents, counting GJs and multiple accounts.
In an evening of utter crap (literally) this makes me feel slightly better. Somewhere out there, someone is miserable. And it is my fault.
In other news, the brother's dog had Exorcist-worthy diarrhea last night, evidently. I say this because the back door needs to be refinished, the blinds on the back door need to be replaced, and the carpet needs to be removed. Bear in mind that the first two are because of clawing. So, that's why it's an evening of utter crap.
Part of it.
The shouting man has got me to the point that I can't function at my apartment. I really can't. I was trying to write on Sunday and I kept thinking "He's about to start." There's nothing to be done until I can find him, and I didn't figure out how to find him until about an hour ago.
Now, however, his ass is mine, and I will find him and call the police. And then there will be no more shouting. I mean, y'all know me. I'm vulgar and mean and petty and take delight in the misfortune of others. And this guy's language offends me. That's on top of the not-being-able-to-work thing, though, not because of it.
Several people have suggested that this guy has Tourettes. Uh, no. Tourettes doesn't happen on a three-hour schedule every day. It's usually 7am-10am, though lately 10:30 am-1:30 pm has taken precendence. And there have been a few instances of 5:30am-6:15am, then a brief break and back onto the normal morning schedule. Oh, and a couple of right-around-9:45pm, and one after-11-pm.
The police receptionist who asked me last week if I thought hearing "I want a girl. I want a girl. I want a girl." over and over and OVER AND OVER at 7:30 am was "unreasonable" will die a horrible messy sporky death. By being molested by Satan. I want to see Satanic Syphilis here.
But that is merely repetitive. It is not the extent of his repertoire! Never fear, he has lots to say! "Goddamn *expletive*" is a top favourite. Once I heard him manage an extended discourse on "Goddamn phone always fucking ringing! Ring ring ring, always goddamn ringing fucking phone!" And on and on and on in that vein.
And then there is the grunting. Don't even ask about the grunting.
I actually was hoping he lived across from me because then I was going to get a gun. But apparently he lives in my building.
That's all right. The waterfall lady, who has a laugh like a really annoying waterfall (it's the "It's a Small World" ride of laughs), and likes to laugh outside at half five in the morning is in the building opposite me.
And so is the cellphone guy, but I kind of like him. I'm hoping for stock tips. All I know so far is that his friend got fired a couple weeks back.
So. That on top of everything else makes me a sad panda.
I will try to introduce people tomorrow, assuming I can even get up the energy to make my fingers work.
.