Jihad is not Harb
Death by sushi has requested more Dora stories so I will give her some. Let's talk about the days it took that psychotic bitch to move out of the apartment next door. They didn't move in one day. In fact, it took that witch 6 days to move out! It was a Friday when I finally noticed some things were being moved but I saw no large pieces of furniture so I was leary. Dora is a manipulative, lying ignominy and I knew that no matter what she told the broker, she wasn't going to follow through the way she told him she would.
Saturday night she had some white trash guy with a Ford Explorer and trailer come over and start hauling away some of their furniture. Eminem was also there, amazingly enough. He'd disappeared at least a week earlier only to reappear again like a reoccurring nightmare. At 5 feet, 6 inches and 160 pounds (hey! How do I know this? Well, I have all the police reports of the many times the police were called to her house. I know more about Dora and Eminem then they realise) he’s not very intimidating. Besides that, he’s as ugly as a mud rail fence as I’ve said before. But I digress.
As I arrived at around 9pm Saturday night, it wasn’t 15 minutes later before Dora and Eminem began screaming in the front yard, and began to physically fight from what I could hear. The angle of my front door doesn’t allow me to see into the front yard of her apartment. I was crouching down with my porch light out, watching the fat, redneck neighbour from across the street run across Burgess, yelling for them to stop. I was just laughing, watching this tub of lard bounce across the road like a big rubber ball. I was also laughing because once again, Dora and Eminem were fighting like complete idiots. I decided I wasn’t going to call the police this time; I’d just let them kill each other in the front yard. In fact, I was actually hoping for some sort of carnage to put them both out of their misery.
So fat lady runs across the street and tries to break it up. What an idiot. Then she runs back across the street and herds Dora’s daughters into her house and closes the door. Five minutes later the police show up, and leave 2 minutes later. I’m not exaggerating. It was as if they just drove up into the cul-de-sac and turned around, asked if there was a problem to which I’m sure as usual, Dora said, “Oh no, nothing at all officer. We were just having a little disagreement.” Then the PPD went on their way. Idiots. By this time, every officer who works this area knows exactly who Dora M. is, where she lives, and what is usually going on over there. They do nothing to stop it. No one ever gets arrested and dumbass Dora never presses charges because she loves Eminem sooooooooo much, it’s just that he gets angry sometimes. The fat redneck lady is the one who called the police, it wasn’t me for once. But I’m sure she told Dora later that it was I who’d called, to get the blame off of her.
Saturday night was the first night that Dora and her loud kids and Eminem spent the night at their new place in Cantonment. I was relieved but only for a short time because I thought that she was finished moving, once I saw Eminem drive through part of my yard and driveway with the top of his Dodge Durango which his mommy bought him filled with mattresses and the back of the car stuffed to the brim with their trash.
Sunday came and guess who was back. Dora. Loading up more crap into her white, battered Chrysler with the battered hood that flew up as she crossed the Gulf Breeze bridge and smashed her windshield. She blamed this on Eminem who, after adding oil to her car, had failed to shut the hood properly. Of course, Eminem did not pay for the broken windshield. What a surprise. This might all be a lie though, coming from a habitual liar such as Dora. Who knows if that’s the truth.
Monday came, she came back early morning, continuing to load stuff into her car. I saw her as I left for work. I was thinking, “Will this ever end?” Monday evening she returned to load up more of her trash. She went up into the attic, getting the crap out of there that I’d helped her move up there when she moved in.
Tuesday morning she arrived again as I was leaving for work. Same thing. This was the day she’d promised the real estate broker that she would be out completely, and would turn in the key. I knew this was a lie. Tuesday evening she returned. I was growing increasingly impatient and was starting to plot revenge against her because she just wasn’t leaving.
Wednesday morning came and again she was there, picking up more plastic junk and what nots. I was about to scream at this point but did not let on that I was annoyed in any way, as this would have only made Dora happy. I came home Wednesday evening and Dora was back, loading up the last of the heavy crap out of the apartment. They made a lot of noise scraping that heavy dresser across the tile floor, banging things around and talking loudly, which echoed nicely in the nearly empty apartment. I ignored all of this and just went on with whatever I was doing.
An hour later I was sitting at my pc when I heard Dora’s big mouth outside. I just had this feeling that she was going to make a big production when she finally was finished moving out all of her crap from the apartment. I figured she’d curse at me or yell something. My suspicions came true. I heard her start yelling “Whoo hoooooooooooo! I’m out of here! You can have your house back!!” or something to that effect. I couldn’t quite understand the last thing she said. She didn’t curse at me, but just yelled to let the whole neighbourhood she was leaving. I’m sure the neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief. I just rolled my eyes and ignored her. What a moron.
Thursday my new neighbours began moving in but I wasn’t aware until I came home that night. I met them and they were the nicest, funniest people! They already knew what had happened with Dora because the owner of the duplex is his boss and told him everything. The fat redneck bitch from across the street, when she saw them moving in, ran across the street to warn them about me! The fat bitch said that “I was a bad person and to watch out for me” and worst of all, said I was a lesbian! My new neighbours, Amy and Brian, told me everything she said. Then Brian said, “If that fat bitch comes over here again on my property I’m calling the police! I told that fat bitch we already knew everything that Dora had done over here.” They put her in her place. I was just laughing. So the fat bitch was spreading around rumours that I was a lesbian. How nice of her.
As much as I wanted to go across the street and confront her, I realised if I did that she’d know how much I was pissed at what she was saying about me, so I didn’t acknowledge anything. I didn’t want to give her any power. I’d seen her a couple of days before talking to the woman across the street, probably telling her I was a lesbian. Dora had even told the fat lady that I was bringing 14 and 15 year old girls into my house and having sex with them. This just made me sick.
I did manage to videotape one incident of the cops talking to Dora after she went ballistic inside her house and started throwing things against the walls and door and cursed at me through the wall. On that videotape, you can hear Dora telling the officers that I was bringing children into my house to have sex with them. I wanted to vomit. She was so desperate to deflect all the bad attention off of her and onto me that she had to concoct stories about me to the police. Unfortunately, it didn’t work and she nearly went to jail. The cop should have taken her to jail because then maybe she and her children finally would have gotten the help that they so desperately need.
Now Dora is gone and I’ve got great neighbours. Brian even split his cable up into the attic and ran it over to my house so I could have cable again! After 7 months of hell with Dora, it’s over. Finally!
Good riddance, BITCH!
When Amy invited me into her apartment, she showed me the mess Dora had left. There were blood spots all over the walls in the hallway, the floor was a dirty gray, and there was a hole in the wall by the door where the door had been pushed open. The door frame at the top was ripped. Amy said the refrigerator had spilled, dried up liquid in it and the whole place was a mess. Amy said the place stunk really bad too. I wasn't surprised, even at the blood, because I knew Dora liked to cut herself when she got upset, because about a week before they'd moved, she'd gotten into another fight with her boyfriend and began that horrible wailing like a banshee. Then I heard a tapping on the floor that sounded like she was trying to drive a nail into the tile. Her kid ran into the living room, yelling, "Mommy, why are you doing that to yourself?" Dora yelled, "Get me a rag!" I knew she'd sliced herself. I wasn't surprised.
Have fun with your life Dora. You deserve what you get.
Saturday night she had some white trash guy with a Ford Explorer and trailer come over and start hauling away some of their furniture. Eminem was also there, amazingly enough. He'd disappeared at least a week earlier only to reappear again like a reoccurring nightmare. At 5 feet, 6 inches and 160 pounds (hey! How do I know this? Well, I have all the police reports of the many times the police were called to her house. I know more about Dora and Eminem then they realise) he’s not very intimidating. Besides that, he’s as ugly as a mud rail fence as I’ve said before. But I digress.
As I arrived at around 9pm Saturday night, it wasn’t 15 minutes later before Dora and Eminem began screaming in the front yard, and began to physically fight from what I could hear. The angle of my front door doesn’t allow me to see into the front yard of her apartment. I was crouching down with my porch light out, watching the fat, redneck neighbour from across the street run across Burgess, yelling for them to stop. I was just laughing, watching this tub of lard bounce across the road like a big rubber ball. I was also laughing because once again, Dora and Eminem were fighting like complete idiots. I decided I wasn’t going to call the police this time; I’d just let them kill each other in the front yard. In fact, I was actually hoping for some sort of carnage to put them both out of their misery.
So fat lady runs across the street and tries to break it up. What an idiot. Then she runs back across the street and herds Dora’s daughters into her house and closes the door. Five minutes later the police show up, and leave 2 minutes later. I’m not exaggerating. It was as if they just drove up into the cul-de-sac and turned around, asked if there was a problem to which I’m sure as usual, Dora said, “Oh no, nothing at all officer. We were just having a little disagreement.” Then the PPD went on their way. Idiots. By this time, every officer who works this area knows exactly who Dora M. is, where she lives, and what is usually going on over there. They do nothing to stop it. No one ever gets arrested and dumbass Dora never presses charges because she loves Eminem sooooooooo much, it’s just that he gets angry sometimes. The fat redneck lady is the one who called the police, it wasn’t me for once. But I’m sure she told Dora later that it was I who’d called, to get the blame off of her.
Saturday night was the first night that Dora and her loud kids and Eminem spent the night at their new place in Cantonment. I was relieved but only for a short time because I thought that she was finished moving, once I saw Eminem drive through part of my yard and driveway with the top of his Dodge Durango which his mommy bought him filled with mattresses and the back of the car stuffed to the brim with their trash.
Sunday came and guess who was back. Dora. Loading up more crap into her white, battered Chrysler with the battered hood that flew up as she crossed the Gulf Breeze bridge and smashed her windshield. She blamed this on Eminem who, after adding oil to her car, had failed to shut the hood properly. Of course, Eminem did not pay for the broken windshield. What a surprise. This might all be a lie though, coming from a habitual liar such as Dora. Who knows if that’s the truth.
Monday came, she came back early morning, continuing to load stuff into her car. I saw her as I left for work. I was thinking, “Will this ever end?” Monday evening she returned to load up more of her trash. She went up into the attic, getting the crap out of there that I’d helped her move up there when she moved in.
Tuesday morning she arrived again as I was leaving for work. Same thing. This was the day she’d promised the real estate broker that she would be out completely, and would turn in the key. I knew this was a lie. Tuesday evening she returned. I was growing increasingly impatient and was starting to plot revenge against her because she just wasn’t leaving.
Wednesday morning came and again she was there, picking up more plastic junk and what nots. I was about to scream at this point but did not let on that I was annoyed in any way, as this would have only made Dora happy. I came home Wednesday evening and Dora was back, loading up the last of the heavy crap out of the apartment. They made a lot of noise scraping that heavy dresser across the tile floor, banging things around and talking loudly, which echoed nicely in the nearly empty apartment. I ignored all of this and just went on with whatever I was doing.
An hour later I was sitting at my pc when I heard Dora’s big mouth outside. I just had this feeling that she was going to make a big production when she finally was finished moving out all of her crap from the apartment. I figured she’d curse at me or yell something. My suspicions came true. I heard her start yelling “Whoo hoooooooooooo! I’m out of here! You can have your house back!!” or something to that effect. I couldn’t quite understand the last thing she said. She didn’t curse at me, but just yelled to let the whole neighbourhood she was leaving. I’m sure the neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief. I just rolled my eyes and ignored her. What a moron.
Thursday my new neighbours began moving in but I wasn’t aware until I came home that night. I met them and they were the nicest, funniest people! They already knew what had happened with Dora because the owner of the duplex is his boss and told him everything. The fat redneck bitch from across the street, when she saw them moving in, ran across the street to warn them about me! The fat bitch said that “I was a bad person and to watch out for me” and worst of all, said I was a lesbian! My new neighbours, Amy and Brian, told me everything she said. Then Brian said, “If that fat bitch comes over here again on my property I’m calling the police! I told that fat bitch we already knew everything that Dora had done over here.” They put her in her place. I was just laughing. So the fat bitch was spreading around rumours that I was a lesbian. How nice of her.
As much as I wanted to go across the street and confront her, I realised if I did that she’d know how much I was pissed at what she was saying about me, so I didn’t acknowledge anything. I didn’t want to give her any power. I’d seen her a couple of days before talking to the woman across the street, probably telling her I was a lesbian. Dora had even told the fat lady that I was bringing 14 and 15 year old girls into my house and having sex with them. This just made me sick.
I did manage to videotape one incident of the cops talking to Dora after she went ballistic inside her house and started throwing things against the walls and door and cursed at me through the wall. On that videotape, you can hear Dora telling the officers that I was bringing children into my house to have sex with them. I wanted to vomit. She was so desperate to deflect all the bad attention off of her and onto me that she had to concoct stories about me to the police. Unfortunately, it didn’t work and she nearly went to jail. The cop should have taken her to jail because then maybe she and her children finally would have gotten the help that they so desperately need.
Now Dora is gone and I’ve got great neighbours. Brian even split his cable up into the attic and ran it over to my house so I could have cable again! After 7 months of hell with Dora, it’s over. Finally!
Good riddance, BITCH!
When Amy invited me into her apartment, she showed me the mess Dora had left. There were blood spots all over the walls in the hallway, the floor was a dirty gray, and there was a hole in the wall by the door where the door had been pushed open. The door frame at the top was ripped. Amy said the refrigerator had spilled, dried up liquid in it and the whole place was a mess. Amy said the place stunk really bad too. I wasn't surprised, even at the blood, because I knew Dora liked to cut herself when she got upset, because about a week before they'd moved, she'd gotten into another fight with her boyfriend and began that horrible wailing like a banshee. Then I heard a tapping on the floor that sounded like she was trying to drive a nail into the tile. Her kid ran into the living room, yelling, "Mommy, why are you doing that to yourself?" Dora yelled, "Get me a rag!" I knew she'd sliced herself. I wasn't surprised.
Have fun with your life Dora. You deserve what you get.