It's my usual morning: coffee, bagel, try to psych myself for work.
In my down time, I find the thing that takes me out of my funk is talking to the Modfather about houses. We are moving next year; not a moment too soon; this neigborhood is a piece of crap.
I'll probably sound like a snob (oh, what the hell), but I grew up on the upper East Side, so living here is a bit of a letdown. When I first moved here, S.I. showed promise, but with the influx of trash that's moved in, it feels like a housing project.
Want more info? Let me explain...
My downstairs neighbor with two kids (no husband, of course) yells and screams at her little bastards ("I'm gonna kill you fucking kids!"; her words not mine).
Then there's the cunt that lives next door (the bitch never met a complaint she didn't like). Let me also add that she has her crackhead-drunk-walking-breathing-piece of shit daughter living with her (and the crackhead's boyfriend, too). They yell and scream all day long. Are they even supposed to live here?
Probably not; but my landlord wouldn't care if Buffalo Bill was living here,
as long as he paid the rent--"it puts the check in the mail on time or it gets
the eviction notice" (sorry about The Silence Of The Lambs reference).
Oh, what a slice of fucking heaven.
It's obvious that the Modfather and I are so much better than this.
I can't wait for the suburbs.
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