Real motherfucking talk

Once upon a time, your shit was fresh and exciting. Alas, it could not endure time, repetition, and your short attention-span. Shit got old. It became part of the vicious cyclical monotony that you call your gig. When your shit is played out, staler than month-old saltines, the logical thing to do is to move on to newer shit. But you don't and won't want to. You're fatalistic and are satisfied with that which soothes your obsessive-compulsive desire to maintain normalcy. Day in, day out you're exhausting your shit's ability to entertain you. You are the idiot who doesn't have an e-mail address because you believe the internet is a conspiracy. The idiot who doesn't believe in global warming or believes that there are forces that govern our universe donning halos and wings. It's pretentious to say but I know this and you may not. I have self-awareness and you are a buffoon.

The first of each month

Summer, as of late, has given me some insight into how the 40 year-old fat dude living in his parent's basement spends his god awful day. Some call this a self-fulfilling prophecy, I say it's introspection. Whatever, fags. A moment before starting this post I was lying like a gelatinous blob on the couch, counting clusters of stucco on the ceiling with only a towel wrapped around my nether regions. Just a moment before that, I was pan frying dumplings. Shirtless. (Take it from me, as fun as it sounds, don't do this. You're going to look like you were sentenced to death by a kiddie firing squad strapped with airsoft rifles.)

You're allotted certain liberties when you're home alone during summer vacation: walking around the apartment in the buff and anxiety-free masturbation just to name a few. (Note to self: Self-deprecation is losing steam; it's no longer funny, just self-deprecating.) Moving in with my dad has been both a blessing and a curse, sort of like fucking Heidi Montag. I'm given a lot of freedom here at my dad's. I can come and leave as I please, sleep in until noon, park my car on the street without getting a fucking citation, the list goes on. But as with the houses and apartments we've lived at before, we get shafted with a shitty landlord. Each landlord more obsessive-compulsive, neurotic, and tyrannical than the one before. Apparently ours isn't well versed in housing laws or aware of her tenant's personal freedoms as guaranteed by the U.S. constitution. For brevity's sake I'll list her grievances:

1) She chided my dad for not throwing away his newspapers in the recyclables bin. I'LL SHIT IN MY TRASHCAN IF I DAMN PLEASE. Recycling is a personal choice. I will reduce refuse at my own pace. Frankly, I think Mother Nature's been a bitch with all this June Gloom bullshit lately. Fuck her.

2) She wouldn't allow me to park in the space behind our garage. "This is listed in the contract your father signed. I never agreed to let you park here." BUT WHY NOT? This one's borderline retarded but we complied like suckers and bought a parking permit. The Man with a capital M: 1 Tenants with a lowercase penis: 0.

3) She harassed me and Kat whenever we'd enter through the front gate. She'd say something to the effect of, "WHY ARE YOU TAKING THAT WOMAN INTO MY APARTMENT? WHAT KINDS OF SHENANIGANS ARE YOU TWO UP TO." She was obviously implying that we were going upstairs to my apartment to fuck our brains out all over her shitty wood panel floor. Landlord Nazi, you cannot seriously believe you can impose your Old World values onto a pair of Post-eBay-Google-Generation X-ers. MY PRESIDENT IS BLACK. MY LAMBO IS BLUE. Honestly, though. Bitch, I will accidentally hang myself via auto-erotic asphyxiation if I want. My father pays the rent, he leaves the sexually deviant behavior up to me. 

4) This may be the most egregious. The worst thing a landlord could do, short of massacring my whole family while tripping on PCP. The bitch had the audacity to complain about our water usage. WERE THE NEO-CONS CORRECT WHEN THEY SAID ELECTING A BLACK GUY WOULD RESULT IN COMMUNISM? First, we totally ignored the bitch because there's no way you're telling me I'm not allowed to take an hour long shower. I will fucking raise tadpoles in my bathtub if I want! 

Those of you who still live at home, consider yourself lucky. Unless, your parents happen to be fucked up landlords.