It Just Doesn't End, Does it?

Beware:
A post of ranty-ness.

So…
Yeah, it’s still a madhouse.  My life, specifically my current accommodations, that is.  

First of all:

I leave the kitchen with a glass of orange juice for five minutes, leaving my closed laptop perched on a chair, to talk with Heather about our travel plans.  One of my roommates comes in, toting a couple of her guy friends, and I immediately hear, “Oh, a computer,” from the kitchen.

I go, “fuck.”

I walk in (mind you it’s been like… thirty seconds) to find him in the chair with my computer open on his lap, pawing through the thing like yesterday’s mail.  I believe my laptop just got raped. xD  So I yank the thing away and say some stupid thing because I’m too surprised and (let’s be honest) pissed to say much of any sense, and I stalk off back to my room. 

Then, five or so minutes later, I smell cigarette smoke, and I’ve had it – the same dick is smoking with his head half out our kitchen window.  He puts it out and gives me the most pathetic, “you’re so lame,” look I’ve seen since my brother reached puberty, and soon left with his buddy. 

*sighs* I’m living with children.  And these children are really, really getting on my nerves.  I’ve never felt older in my life, and I don’t consider myself to be particularly mature…

 

Second of all:

All during this there’s this interesting looking orange hose and a van pulled up near our building and chugging along.  The van says “industrial floor and window cleaning” and it’s been working all day…

Why? Because I’m living in a madhouse that really, really isn’t that unlike a Russian prison… 

Last night a bunch of guys walked around and knocked on windows until they found ones left unlocked.  The open windows in our block belonged to the apartment across from ours and the bastards emptied all the fire extinguishers they could find inside the kitchen and bedroom facing the “courtyard.” 

They were probably drunk as skunks and thought the whole thing was funny as hell…

God only knows the amount of damage they caused, though, and that stuff is pretty toxic so the guys living there had to move house for a while. 

You know what?  It’s really, really not funny to cause property damage and scare the shit out of people. 

 

*seeeeeeths*

But in better news:
I’m going to Dublin this weekend and Paris mid October.
Beat that, suckers.