Two Songs Rewritten for the Tunes Sake

Photoshop, Illustrator, and Quark are my BEST FREINDS this summer. I think I spend more time with them then anything else. Isn't that great?

Da Vinci Code comes out tonight, and I intend to be there to see it. Woot!

Other than that, my summer is uneventful...

EXCEPT: So I have a gripe. I have this HUGE, GIMONGUS pile of glass shards/tile shards/shards of wood with suspicious (lead?) paint all over them/thousands of rusty nails/trash/etc etc in my backyard that the contractor did NOT take with him when he finished the house. So I've called the landlord a couple times to tell him about it, even though he says no one has ever told him. Still, we've been here a month and the Pile of Dangerous and Disgusting Things has not moved. So I call him today, with my own personal cross to bear about the pile of SHIT in my yard, and I was completely polite and cheery, and what do I get? That's right, he gets ugly with me.

"Listen Kate, I'm trying to be patient with you, but your roommates have called two times in the last week to talk about MEANINGLESS TRIVIAL things that I am in the process of fixing and I cant do it any faster blah blah blah"

Then he lists about three things that Sam has apparently told him about (not twice in the last week, apparently she called him first of last week and he never called back, so she called first of this week...), none of which is the pile of things in my yard. So why am I getting bitched at by this asshole? Am I my roommates keeper? Am I supposed to know when she called the landlord or how many times? And why is he upset that his tenants are bothering him anyway? So I said, Listen, I appreciate how helpful youre being about the "meaningless" problems on our property, but personally, I don't consider a pile of dangerous glass shards and rusty nails a meaningless problem, because I'm SURE you don't want little old me cutting my hand open on a glass shard that you repeatedly neglected to pick up.

So instead of apologizing for chewing me out for ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, he starts complaining that every single time the contractor comes out there he has to pay for it. Well what the fuck? If he'd done the walkthrough like he said he would, and like hes supposed to have done, NONE of this would be an issue. If his contractor wasn't a piece of shit slob, I would be able to walk barefoot in my yard without wondering if I'm up to date on my shots. I promise, Mr. Landlord, that if I impale myself, the medical bill will be a MUCH bigger pain in the ass than anything the contractor is going to charge you.

Of course, as much as I would have liked to just read this entry to him in first person, I had to turn on the sugar sweet complacent kate to get him to swear on the holy bible that he would get it picked up. By next week.

Then my mom called and told me that Whaleys Mill was charging me two hundred dollars for supposed "spray paint" stains on the carpet? What? How dumb do they think I am? I told Penny that I would never spray paint something on the damn carpet. No, if I had to spray paint something, I do it on her piece of shit stairwell. But that doesn't matter, because I'm not paying for them to replace the carpet, when I know for a fact that the black marks on our floor are grease stains from when the prison cell maintenence crew hauled our old stove out. To make a long story short, we didn't have to pay to rplace the carpet. Stupid Whaleys Mill.

AND they never took Kacies name off the lease, so the bill was in her name. I told Penny that I would die a thousand deaths before I had to call Kacie. And tell her that she had to pay to replace the carpet. Thats rich though, maybe someone should have dotted her i's and crossed her t's a little more thoroughly before she moved out, because that little discrepency could have given her lots and lots of trouble. Good thing Daniel always paid his rent on time, eh? And hey, it ain't my damn problem.

I'm gonna go read or something.