Mutant ratts, Paris Hilton, appliance removal and HAZMAT, I love this hell!
Sorry I have not been around much lately. I have become addicted to myspace, but I cannot forget my friends here, I miss you guys!
Damn! Haha, where do I begin? I live in the ghetto, yet none like you have ever seen or experienced. This place is somewhere between 'Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil' verses 'Jerry Springer' It is a real love/hate place. All of the people who live here say they want to move every month, but there is this sick sense of wonder that keeps us all here. Like almost the end of a suspense novel that you have to get through the last 100 pages before you sleep but it never ends. Exciting and exausting. Thrilling and annoying.
I remember Thanksgiving was extra eventful as I got to witness a real turkey being thrown at a woman by her husband and she promptly took off after him never spilling her beer. That was cool. Then the same day there was the local drug dealer who hit the dumpster in his cadilac and pushed it down the block then passed out in his sunday's finest suspenders, crack pipe in one hand, needle in the other with his family of ten chaseing on foot behind. That is the kind of drama that really cracks me up! Gimme some white trash drama over games of the heart anyday!
So, today was a real jewel and it has spawned the need in me to share with my beloved pals who are addicted to a perfect world in a box. I awoke with a phone call and a knock to the door. Shaking off the Xanex haze I answered the phone and the door at the same time. The wacked alcoholic landlords son ran extension cords through the house to fix my falling in kitchen floors a day before the housing authority is supposed to inspect, while I rushed around cell in one hand phone in the other, clipboard full of work to be finished in the same hand as my cell. Asking children if they had eaten or needed drinks as I juggled all the daily tasks at hand. Dog begins getting sick and my neighbor comes over screaming her cat had been poisoned. So accidently pulling the real phone off the table, still with cell and clipboard in hand I rush outside to see several neighbors with arms of leaves covering all these green chemical puddles. Someone from down the block said her dogs were sick also, so with one of my friends advise I called the fire dept. The kids were all on the porch mesmerized by the huge fire trucks and I smiled at having caused such entertainment for them. Come to find out the business that is behind my house had a huge barrel of chemicals with a pump in it and a pipe that led into the street covered by trees so you could not see it. My phone is ringing off the hook as well as my cell. A little black girl who I call Paris Hilton because she is always carrys her dog in her arm calls and comes by to pick up something while the HAZMAT truck pulls up, sirens could be heard all over Huntsville. Kids are watching and laughing, I am still writing and talking to people on the cell, making business calls, saw buzzing from under the floor, giving the dog some Gatoraid per the Vet's advise. The news team shows up, camera's flashing, kids watch horror movies and out the door at all the chaos. Twenty people float in and out of the house, up and down the street, my phone constantly ringing or me making calls, writing on my clipboard, typing on the computer, give the landlord's son a narcotic so he does not drink too much and finishes the job so we don't fall through the floor, tell the kids to take a shower. My roommate shows up and takes out a dead ratt in a trap, I think they get so big because of the damn chemicals, mutant ratts big as cats! The stove, bike, screen door and refridgerator that decorated my yard for so long are moved by workers, I guess so the news camera won't pick up a shot of how Kromis neglects her ghetto. Speaking of Ms. Kromis, the wicked landlady of this fine Love Canal scoots down the street in a Micheal Jackson moonwalk with her little vicious Taco Bell doglike barking assistant. Kids laughing and playing, uncle shows up, two friends stop by, one calls, I am trying to continue working talking to ten people at once it seems. Dog barfs again, landlord's son emerges from under the porch, beer in hand talking in spirals, asking uncle how mom is, friends move my new computer in, tell the kids not to play too close to the street, drop the cell, clean up dog barf, be courteous on the phone and remember to act professional, write on my paper taking notes, laugh at the landlord's son's weird joke I don't understand, vietnam vet and his niece stop in to add to the clusterfuck and the dog barfs again. Call the vet, more Gatoraid for Fonzie, pop a pill, tell the kids to get their stuff together, put on some lipstick, squeeze a ciggarette in, and talk to the investigator about the chemical spill.
A friendly firefighter comes to thank me for calling, He says that they had been pumping chemicals into the nieghborhood for years and that the ground water might be contaminated for a mile around us, and that if my dog has to go to the vet the owner of the chemicals will pay. My kid's father and his lady show up, she is sick so I try to help, daughter crying cause she does not like goodbyes, I wave till they are out of sight, a pain going through my gut because I will miss them.
Back to work, take a friend to the doctor, watch HAZMAT leave as we do, while my friend is in the doctor's office I pass out for a kind 20 minutes, get coffee drinks, visit with uncle till 1:00 a.m., flirt with a guy on the computer, pop a pill, try to hook up the computer, run into a million issues getting it hooked up, friend calls to gossip, fuck off on myspace for a moment to write this, pop a couple of pills and now back to work.
WHEW! It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood! And I find time to get bored? WTF?!?! The cool thing is I stay absolutely entertained and busy as fuck everyday, I will rest when I am dead. And the pay off is that everything gets done. I guess the chemicals are what is wrong with all the weirdos around here, that includes me! We are all Toxic! The dog is feeling a little better now, poor guy.
Damn! Haha, where do I begin? I live in the ghetto, yet none like you have ever seen or experienced. This place is somewhere between 'Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil' verses 'Jerry Springer' It is a real love/hate place. All of the people who live here say they want to move every month, but there is this sick sense of wonder that keeps us all here. Like almost the end of a suspense novel that you have to get through the last 100 pages before you sleep but it never ends. Exciting and exausting. Thrilling and annoying.
I remember Thanksgiving was extra eventful as I got to witness a real turkey being thrown at a woman by her husband and she promptly took off after him never spilling her beer. That was cool. Then the same day there was the local drug dealer who hit the dumpster in his cadilac and pushed it down the block then passed out in his sunday's finest suspenders, crack pipe in one hand, needle in the other with his family of ten chaseing on foot behind. That is the kind of drama that really cracks me up! Gimme some white trash drama over games of the heart anyday!
So, today was a real jewel and it has spawned the need in me to share with my beloved pals who are addicted to a perfect world in a box. I awoke with a phone call and a knock to the door. Shaking off the Xanex haze I answered the phone and the door at the same time. The wacked alcoholic landlords son ran extension cords through the house to fix my falling in kitchen floors a day before the housing authority is supposed to inspect, while I rushed around cell in one hand phone in the other, clipboard full of work to be finished in the same hand as my cell. Asking children if they had eaten or needed drinks as I juggled all the daily tasks at hand. Dog begins getting sick and my neighbor comes over screaming her cat had been poisoned. So accidently pulling the real phone off the table, still with cell and clipboard in hand I rush outside to see several neighbors with arms of leaves covering all these green chemical puddles. Someone from down the block said her dogs were sick also, so with one of my friends advise I called the fire dept. The kids were all on the porch mesmerized by the huge fire trucks and I smiled at having caused such entertainment for them. Come to find out the business that is behind my house had a huge barrel of chemicals with a pump in it and a pipe that led into the street covered by trees so you could not see it. My phone is ringing off the hook as well as my cell. A little black girl who I call Paris Hilton because she is always carrys her dog in her arm calls and comes by to pick up something while the HAZMAT truck pulls up, sirens could be heard all over Huntsville. Kids are watching and laughing, I am still writing and talking to people on the cell, making business calls, saw buzzing from under the floor, giving the dog some Gatoraid per the Vet's advise. The news team shows up, camera's flashing, kids watch horror movies and out the door at all the chaos. Twenty people float in and out of the house, up and down the street, my phone constantly ringing or me making calls, writing on my clipboard, typing on the computer, give the landlord's son a narcotic so he does not drink too much and finishes the job so we don't fall through the floor, tell the kids to take a shower. My roommate shows up and takes out a dead ratt in a trap, I think they get so big because of the damn chemicals, mutant ratts big as cats! The stove, bike, screen door and refridgerator that decorated my yard for so long are moved by workers, I guess so the news camera won't pick up a shot of how Kromis neglects her ghetto. Speaking of Ms. Kromis, the wicked landlady of this fine Love Canal scoots down the street in a Micheal Jackson moonwalk with her little vicious Taco Bell doglike barking assistant. Kids laughing and playing, uncle shows up, two friends stop by, one calls, I am trying to continue working talking to ten people at once it seems. Dog barfs again, landlord's son emerges from under the porch, beer in hand talking in spirals, asking uncle how mom is, friends move my new computer in, tell the kids not to play too close to the street, drop the cell, clean up dog barf, be courteous on the phone and remember to act professional, write on my paper taking notes, laugh at the landlord's son's weird joke I don't understand, vietnam vet and his niece stop in to add to the clusterfuck and the dog barfs again. Call the vet, more Gatoraid for Fonzie, pop a pill, tell the kids to get their stuff together, put on some lipstick, squeeze a ciggarette in, and talk to the investigator about the chemical spill.
A friendly firefighter comes to thank me for calling, He says that they had been pumping chemicals into the nieghborhood for years and that the ground water might be contaminated for a mile around us, and that if my dog has to go to the vet the owner of the chemicals will pay. My kid's father and his lady show up, she is sick so I try to help, daughter crying cause she does not like goodbyes, I wave till they are out of sight, a pain going through my gut because I will miss them.
Back to work, take a friend to the doctor, watch HAZMAT leave as we do, while my friend is in the doctor's office I pass out for a kind 20 minutes, get coffee drinks, visit with uncle till 1:00 a.m., flirt with a guy on the computer, pop a pill, try to hook up the computer, run into a million issues getting it hooked up, friend calls to gossip, fuck off on myspace for a moment to write this, pop a couple of pills and now back to work.
WHEW! It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood! And I find time to get bored? WTF?!?! The cool thing is I stay absolutely entertained and busy as fuck everyday, I will rest when I am dead. And the pay off is that everything gets done. I guess the chemicals are what is wrong with all the weirdos around here, that includes me! We are all Toxic! The dog is feeling a little better now, poor guy.