whee, free shit!

so i know that most on nyc's parks are wifi'd up and after two years of this and me being all duh, i've finally taken george to park for a spin to test his wifi squatting skills. he's doing lovely. of course the up-talking yuppie family that was playing 'catch' [proving that people from ohio are functionally retarded in both social interaction and sports, but i digress...] a little too close to big daddy and little george. enough glares to the father [i can take him on, not afraid of him. his wife, well, that's another story] and they move on. HA. parks aren't for playing catch or talking in anything more than a hushed tone, preferably not in a cel phone.

oh yes. when the tomunist revolt happens, it's going to happen big, dears.

so recall the one broad at work who just couldn't bear to hear me say, 'when the revolution comes...' yeah, she likes to visit exotic places like london and san fran vineyards and play shutterbug and molests all of us with her photos. there is NOTHING worse than vacation photos of other people. they either suck, they're good but you don't care, you don't like the person who is molesting you so you don't care where s/he went, or you're jealous s/he went someplace cool and you're pissed. in this case, i just didn't give a shit about the place she went, what she saw, and she's a tad crazy, so the annotated 'and this is where the government sponsored needle drop off box was! can you believe! and EVERYONE was smoking the marijuana. smoke smoke smoke, it was terrible.' oh. um. sounds right nice to me dear, where did you go again?

augh some broad just came up to me and asked wifi is available all over the park. no dear, i'm special. only on this park in this spot on this computer. now go home sweetie.

augh. i don't suffer fools easily.

what do

pimps who recruit 12 year old girls to be prostitutes in the projects, people who perform female circumcisions in africa, nazis during world war two, and realtors have in common?

they're all scum of the earth and will rot in hell.

just saying. apartment search not going well, you know.

augh this god damned search

so i find a place one block over, very cute, much quieter, working fireplace, shared internal courtyard. fine. put in for it, confirmed with my current asshole landlord that he will, once and for all, let me out of my lease and give me my security deposit . good. last step: meet with new landlord for an interview. after he dropped the f-bomb, s-bomb, and a few others, i decided if i get the place, fine. if i don't, fine. guy was a kook-a-boo, but it ain't over till it's over. one of my FIVE realtors is quite cute. that's not much, but it's something for the g. d. search.

put in for a major promotion this week, and had an interview. 'i'm not an easy person to work for.' [i've heard.] the salary would make up for the beyotch for whom i'd be working, and it would be new. . . could i really get a new job and a new apartment in the same week? highly unlikely, but as runnerboy said when the whole apartment drama started to unroll, 'maybe it's time for a change.' and while moving cheese isn't the most comfortable thing to do, it's necessary and good things will come of it.

ha. famous last words. looking forward to blasting asshole landlord's name, like i said, when i get out of here and get my security back in hand.

hmm. perhaps i wont have to change the name...

realtor from six years ago has a gutted place in upper village (but chelsea is so... cHELLsea....) so all may not be off. 'and what's your fee?' 'oh honey. i couldn't do this to you again. we'll work something out.' SEE. all about knowing your neighbors and being a good neighbor.

and karma. man alive karma.