Ok, I'll explain myself, and then I'll stop offering advice on this topic, as I clearly don't grok your situ.

My first post (#325) was me being frustrated at you because I perceived that you were moving into a fucked up unsanitary place with water in the oil, and shitty water backing into your kitchen sink, and you were apparently just bending over and taking it. That's how it seemed to me. Perhaps you underplayed the reaction of the management company. Perhaps I didn't read for comprehension. I clearly missed post #94.

Anyway, It seemed like you were telling us that you were getting fucked over, and then turning around and defending the fuckors. meh.


The 2nd post, was me backpedaling and trying to be funny.

I didn't say anything about your friend Pearl dying. Not in this thread at least.

SO, I Hope it all works out quickly and cleanly, and that your relationship with your landlord survives unscathed.

srsly.

OK well to clarify, I'm not getting fucked over; I'm inconvenienced by circumstances, which actually are not that bad. As you've noted, roofers shit in buckets. I could do that too. I have no pride, no shame, and no matter how horribly I treat myself I will be in better hygienic condition than my customers.

In fact, many people enjoy replicating my conditions, by going camping in tents. I have it better than they do. They have to shit in the woods. I could comfortably shit inside and then carry it to the woods. I have it great!

My life has become insanely surreal, mostly by my choice. That is what I'm documenting.

When you decide to move to a fucked up little farmhouse, this is part of the deal you strike. Things are going to be unpredictable. The place was built in the 1930s and halfway retrofitted for modern anything. It should have been bulldozed years ago, except that it was too close to student housing and too much on a hill for modern McMansion comforts.

It's fucked up. But that's also what I like about it. I could choose predictable plumbing, modern heating systems with central air, super modern appliances, and wall to wall carpeting instead of painted wood floors. But I'd also have to pay $500 more a month and have neighbors connected directly to my house. Most people prefer that, but I like this.

The RE management company couldn't have predicted the drainage problem, there's no way to test for it. They might have tested the furnace; since it worked for three days to begin with, they wouldn't have discovered anything. They did a lot of work getting it into a state where somebody could move in and I don't know what they discovered that I wasn't aware of.

jim, consider yourself buttƒucked in the mouth


AND on report

flint,

consider my balls.

stop making that face.

Kindest sir,
I consider them a disgrace.

Yours truly,
P.S. Warmest regards,
P.S.S. "Happy Holidays"

Everything drains.

Fhew crisis somehow averted

Good, plus they don't hate you.

tony- I was going to say things can ONLY get better from here but I'm too old to fall for that trick and I suppose you are, too.

However, I am sorry and my heart hurts that this has all happened to you within a week or so of Pearl passing and I'm sorry about the drains and alll----I hate plumbing, car problems and lost money. but you've got a great attitude and I wish you the best.

PS--my cellar has water in it (a little or a lot depending on rainfall) every fucking time it rains. I know. I have roto rooter every 18 moths. No matter what.

Oh yeah, and that. That, you know, lasting thing that continues to effect every single that happens for the duration of the relationship. That probably is important, right?

Last night I lost my keys while at the pawn shop. Probably dropped them in the street while I was getting lunch.

Yeeeeeeah. FML once again. When your life is in disarray, you don't operate normally. You don't put your keys in the same coat pocket, and put them down on the same desk every night. And so you lose them. I just gave myself a lot of pain and chores -- and car rental fees, to solve this problem until I can solve this problem.

This one isn't about the house, except that, pre-locksmith, I was able to break in so easily. Sammy at work suggested that the plumbing problem, the free alarm system, and the weak bolt on the basement door all say "Students broke into this house when it was vacant, and partied here, and threw shit down the toilet that they weren't supposed to." This theory is excellent.

He haveth wisdom of the fuckethed up.

There's book smarts, there's street smarts, then there's ghetto-pawnshop-broker smarts.

The other option is meth lab. You DID check for that, didn't you?

What evidence should I look for?