Last Straw

At 3am this morning, I attempted to sleep in my Nissan® Frontier truck. So, what happened? Well, it all started around March 1st. I've already provided a brief description in a recent Mini-Update®. Tom, the drunkard, has been inviting strange guys to Slob Manor (read: rental housing) every day to drink cheap booze and possibly participate in some "fudgepacking" fun with him. Alan espied one of the guys and described him as looking "homeless."

Although the guys individually spent the night upstairs, the cheap booze consumption and the loud conversations usually ended between 10pm and 10:30pm. On Monday, that changed. The frivolous activity continued on until after midnight. Last night's party went on until 4am this morning. Tom was doing all the talking. What he talks about for hours at a time is a mystery. He does nothing else except sleep and guzzle cheap booze.

At 3am, I decided to attempt to get some sleep in the truck. Tom, the drunkard, and his buddy were carousing right above my squalid room, so I was privy to hear a lot of noise. Unbelievable as it may seem, I could hear Tom, the drunkard, loud and clear in my truck, even with the windows closed and way out in the driveway. So, no sleep. I returned to my squalid room at 4am when I no longer heard the fool babbling away. I assumed that he either passed put or keeled over.

That was the proverbial "last straw." So, this morning, as groggy as I was, I visited the property management firm that coordinates the rentals in the "crack house" in Chinatown. I am now in line for one of the vacant units. Unfortunately, the wait may be longer than a month because the rooms are being cleaned and repaired.

When I returned from town this afternoon, the "chef" told me that he and the babe in the attached studio have both complained to the landlord about the drunken foolery incident. I was asked to provide my own testimony. I reluctantly wrote out a three-page note describing the incident and left it in the landlord's box. I seriously doubt that anything will change. I would be surprised if Tom, the drunkard, was even mildly chastised.

Well, as we all know, I have made all the preparations to move out. My squalid room is completely clean. I have divested all superfluous possessions. I can be completely moved out in five minutes. The final decision to move out of the dump is based on various criteria that I have discussed in the "blog." Essentially, I am an old codger. I am by myself. And, all aspects of my life can currently be summarized by ... game over!

Homeless Buddy Mini-Update®
A couple weeks ago, my homeless buddy stepped on a nail on the Next Step homeless shelter property. The nail pierced through his shoe and into his foot. He had to wear support footwear as a result. Now, there have been complications. So, he is undertaking three months of daily chemotherapy to combat an alleged viral infection from the wound.

Vienna Sausage Mini-Update®
The Vienna Sausage appears to be rapidly atrophying. I am not sure if it will still be functional (aside from urination purposes) in six months. Well, it has not been deployed in reproduction activities in decades. So, the body is automatically deprecating it to a flacid stump.

Telecommunications Mini-Update®
I will apparently be losing my free voicemail account in a month. So, I quickly searched the Net for any free phone number sites. I now have an area code 777 phone number. It is only accessible through VOIP, but I will still use it for any and all personal accounts that require a phone number.

Surveillance Mini-Update®
The ridiculous surveillance of the "blog" appears to have ended ten days ago. Good riddance!