Sunday, October 25, 1998

I was right about the freeloaders. Last night’s episode only lasted a couple of minutes, but there was a horn honk and about two kids and two adults yelling something I couldn’t quite make out.

Today it was a horn honk and the music from that aqua-colored car that’s usually a problem when it comes around, but fortunately, the damn thing doesn’t come around a lot. No white car this weekend. Instead, it’s just been the aqua one. The music was amazingly soft enough so that it couldn’t be heard in the back room over the air cleaner that’s back there, but it could be heard up front. I saw 3 freeloaders leave in this car, but don’t know who the hell it was. I thought I saw a 10-year-old boy that I thought I heard last night.

Anyway, it’s too soon to know if they’re going back to their old shit or if this is just one of their occasional outbursts just so they can say they rebelled against me and the city, but I’ll tell you one thing for sure and that’s that there isn’t gonna be a third city letter. I’m not gonna send letters that are only good a few months at a time. My fists will take care of the problem permanently, and if they give me music regularly again, I’m not only gonna give them music of my own right back at night, but I’m gonna break every bone in their sick bodies. I’m not gonna even bother with a city letter or evictions. I’m just gonna put them in their place till we move.

Tom, who was as quick to defend them as he usually is, said there’s always music on Sunday mornings. No there isn’t. Not for months, there hasn’t been. Besides, if she really wanted to stay at that house, why would she kick the cock out, make sure he never parks in the driveway, have people lose the music, but just keep the Sunday morning music? If she really wanted to stay there, there wouldn’t be any music. Maybe she’ll rebel every few months like she just did, but not once a week. That’d be too risky, wouldn’t it?

Later…

Just took a shower, and while I was in there, the white car pulled in. I could hear the banging while in the shower and asked him about it when I got out. He said he saw some guy fiddling with the trunk. He said the trunk’s broken and so that’s what the slamming was all about this time. He couldn’t tell who the guy was but said that he thinks she goes somewhere on Sundays, so he’s over there watching football. I don’t know about that. I think she’s over there. I don’t think she left with that aqua car.

I’m tempted to start by giving them some music tonight no matter what else happens today. I’m just so sick of their shit, and I’ll be damned if I’ll put up with it every day. Even every week. If they gotta honk and yell on weekends, fine, but the bottom line is - no music. What kinds of things could happen in these people’s lives to make them this insecure that they gotta go getting the attention of people they hate? When you’re into attention-getting from people you’re supposed to hate, that’s really fucking desperate.

Later…

The bitch should be back soon enough.

Why are my tits sore? I only had a few cups of tea with caffeine in it, but only a few, and there’s less caffeine in tea than there is in coffee.

Tom tried putting a new hinge on the broken back door but didn’t have the right screws.

Later…

I was just mentally visualizing tomorrow’s setup for the mice’s cages and accessories. They need changing badly! I hope changing them doesn’t spawn a 10-hour allergy attack!

I was surprised that Tom wanted sex again today, but it was nice. Neither of us came, though, and you could say that that was the non-surprising part of it. Still, the time we spent together in bed was nice. Screwing’s always nice, even if it gets boring at times, but I read in bed while he napped and that’s still spending some quality time together as far as we’re concerned.

The thing I don’t get about Tom, though, is why sex is so strenuous for him. Most of the time I’d swear I had an 80-year-old man on top of me. He huffs and puffs and his heart goes booming and I wonder why it’s so hard for him. I know he’s 41 and not 21, but still, don’t most guys in their 60s have it easier than this? And he’s not acting as far as this goes, either.

The unfortunate news is that the leak in the back room started leaking again. I should’ve known it was too good to be true that it’d finally be fixed (this time the dogs did go off on Tom). I was surprised at how much rain we had today and that it rained at prime bitch time on a weekend. It rained on and off. Usually, out in Arizona, it only rains a few minutes, then that’s it. So, while it was pouring, Tom went on the roof to see where the water was building up and he patched up an area that he suspected water was getting through. Hope it helps.

I’m surprised Andy hasn’t called during the weekend, but I haven’t heard from him since last weekend when he left me those 3 long messages about his visit from Marla, Evan, and the boys. That’s a long time for him.

Tom looked to see if there were more miniature golf games online, but surprisingly, there weren’t. I like the golf game we’ve got, except it’s “too male.” You can tell by the dull colors and by the content of most of the courses, that it’s male-made.

The current Ruby Jean Jensen book I’m reading is a typical Ruby book. It’s great, and I’m two-thirds of the way done. I want to hurry up and read it to the end, but at the same time, I want it to last. Once I’ve read it, I’ve read it, and I know the story.

Tom felt that the best thing to do with the $5,000 coming from Ma as part of the sale money from the dump she had, would be best spent by paying off our debts rather than put away and saved. We’re about $4,000 in debt.

Now here’s something really fucking weird! I know White Paw’s meow. Hers was lower-pitched than Blackie’s. I let Blackie out a little while ago, sat down to write, then I could’ve sworn I heard WP at the door. I know I did. So I upped and opened the door, but there was no cat in sight. As soon as I opened it, though, I could hear Blackie’s higher-pitched meowing and then I saw that he was at the back of the yard. There’s no way that meow could’ve been his. So unless that was the ghost of WP, she is still alive and she took off when she heard me coming. But why, though? That cat practically loved to piss me off by sticking around when she knew I didn’t want her.

So, all in all, last night’s honk and shouts, and today’s honk and music were all that was heard from our beautiful freeloaders. The white car took off after I last wrote, and to my surprise, the aqua car never returned. I thought it was gonna come back just as loud or louder, but if it did, it was while we were in the bedroom with the fan going.

The white car came and went two more times after it left just after I’d written. See, I still think that all these cars are running drugs and or supplies, but Tom said that that white car that came and went could’ve been running to the store for her, but still, who does this bitch think she is to have all these people doing so much for her? I could never have gotten someone to babysit my kid 5 days a week if I had had one, I could never have gotten someone to take me grocery shopping regularly, I could never have gotten someone to take me out every weekend, so what is it with this bitch having her finger wrapped around all these people? Is she Dureen persuasive, or what? And I’m sure she’s not giving them anything in return for all their slavery. What can she give them? I’ll bet that if she needed something in the middle of the night, there’d be at least 10 different people she could call. But not even my best friend would ever have come running to me like that and that often. Not before. Not now. Another question is how do all her cronies get the time to spend catering to her? Don’t these people work or have lives of their own to live? Obviously not.

Pleasantly enough, there weren’t a million stereos out there today like there was yesterday. I’m sure that had a part in the aqua car’s music. They probably felt left out, and all those stereos probably encouraged them to follow right along.

Speaking of cars and stereos, I haven’t seen that big white car that used to be a real bass blaster (I mean big-time) bass since the second city complaint went in. I’ll bet you the reason why is because they reacted the same way that bitch did when she asked them to lay off the music cuz of me and my complaint. I’ll bet they were just an oh-so-true friend and said, fuck it then. We either play it loud or we don’t know you. She could very well have told the shit in the aqua car to cut it out too, and got a reply of, we’ll lower it, but we won’t turn it off completely.

I wonder if she thinks that the basketball hoop is part of the deal. Does she think that I’ll complain if she lets anyone play ball? Well, I kind of hope so and that she’s afraid to let anyone use that hoop cuz of me, and I just can’t believe that it’s almost November and there still haven’t been any games yet!

I got an awesome idea. I’m not gonna go back to my first journal and do this throughout my past journals, but from here on out, and maybe even from the start of this month, I’m gonna do a table of contents. After each day of writing is complete, I’ll go to my index98 file and type a list of stuff I wrote for that day.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.