(no subject)
As if my day couldn't get any better.
Wake up, make a wonderful Rueben just by using ham and the usual ingredients. Wonderful, good start, high five.
A friend of mine shows up only to tell me I have a ticket on my car. It was a warning for a 24-hour parking violation and a 100$ fine for no registration. Apparently it's illegal to park your own unregistered car in front of your own house. That of course is all due to the public road it's parked on. Apparently, they can even ticket it on a private drive from what the City of Lincoln ever-so-bitchedly let me know over the phone. Wonderful, an extra 100 bucks to register my car that I couldn't afford in the first place. That's not all...the reason it's on my street is because it DOES NOT MOVE. Got sold a broken car, yippee.
On top of that I've heard rumors about someone extremely close to me that dissapoint me to the point of jailbreak. If that makes any sense.
And after a long day of thinking about God raining shit on me, I come home to find a note from my roommate Blake's parents telling me how to live my life. About how I'm living in a pigsty, and this house shouldn't be a pigsty, and if I want to live in a pigsty I should (roughly said) get the fuck out of their house before they make me. A landlord shouldn't be able to tell me how to live my life. A landlord shouldn't have random visits. Ah well.
What a good day. I could use a goddamn backrub.
Wake up, make a wonderful Rueben just by using ham and the usual ingredients. Wonderful, good start, high five.
A friend of mine shows up only to tell me I have a ticket on my car. It was a warning for a 24-hour parking violation and a 100$ fine for no registration. Apparently it's illegal to park your own unregistered car in front of your own house. That of course is all due to the public road it's parked on. Apparently, they can even ticket it on a private drive from what the City of Lincoln ever-so-bitchedly let me know over the phone. Wonderful, an extra 100 bucks to register my car that I couldn't afford in the first place. That's not all...the reason it's on my street is because it DOES NOT MOVE. Got sold a broken car, yippee.
On top of that I've heard rumors about someone extremely close to me that dissapoint me to the point of jailbreak. If that makes any sense.
And after a long day of thinking about God raining shit on me, I come home to find a note from my roommate Blake's parents telling me how to live my life. About how I'm living in a pigsty, and this house shouldn't be a pigsty, and if I want to live in a pigsty I should (roughly said) get the fuck out of their house before they make me. A landlord shouldn't be able to tell me how to live my life. A landlord shouldn't have random visits. Ah well.
What a good day. I could use a goddamn backrub.