Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Dear Sucker Who Pays Rent...

I love my little apartment. You guys know that.

This is Kendall Jenner's apartment, not mine, lol. Mine is smaller,
but has the advantage of no fucking antlers in the living room.

To be honest, I'm thrilled to not be a homeowner. I did that for almost 20 years, and yeah, owning your own home on your own plot of land is wonderful in many ways. Like being able to paint your bedroom purple.

But right here, right now, having a place that is compact, easy to clean, and has a maintenance staff on call to fix whatever breaks is awesome.

Full disclosure: I totally unclogged my own toilet recently.
But I could have had someone do it for me...for free.

Of course, there are drawbacks to apartment living. Not being able to practice clogging because of downstairs neighbors. Having to wear headphones when possessed by the urge to listen to show tunes at maximum volume. Um...no nude treadmilling allowed in the free community exercise room. Uh...must use professional-quality gas grill next to well-appointed pool when wanting to barbecue.

The struggle is real.

Really real.
But seriously folks, the numero uno drawback of apartment living is that you have a lot of neighbors in very close proximity. And some of them - I don't care where you live or how much you pay in rent - are assholes.

And unlike a single-family residence, where assholes in violation of community standards can be reported and fined for being bad neighbors, in an apartment complex everyone suffers the consequences of their rude and slovenly behavior.

Case in point: The community letter.

If you're employed in a company of any size, you know about the community letter. Two or three people have fucked things up for everybody else by being douchenozzles, but to avoid the liability of actually holding individuals accountable for their behavior, the home office chastises everyone in the most carefully parsed, passive-aggressive way possible.


So when I got home tonight, one of these charming missives was stuck in my front door-crack. It was just the most cheerful, chipper reprimand I've ever read. Absolutely no one who needs to heed its admonishments will give it a second thought, and absolutely everyone who is fed up with the jizzbuckets in our midst is sure that it will be ineffective.

It's exactly like the online sexual harassment course I had to take at work today.

Look, it's not the offensive familiarity I mind so much as
the systemic marginalization of my validity in this organization.
I thought I'd share a few excerpts from this amazing memorandum, along with a passive-aggressive-to-real-talk translation.

"Thank you for choosing xxxxx [as] your place to call home! We appreciate all of you and our goal is [to] ensure your expectations are exceeeded."

We know damn well we could jack up the rent on your apartment by $75 a month if you would only move out. But whatever, fair housing laws.

"To help make our community a better place to live we need your help. It's as simple as being courteous to your fellow neighbors and abiding by the community rules."

A fucking barn...were you born in one? The fact that we need rules for being a decent human makes us think that money can't buy class.

"[P]lease help us keep the community clean and pick up after [your] pets. We've noticed more animal waste throughout the community recently."

I stepped in dogshit walking into the leasing office yesterday. Fuck, people. You know what kind of dog owner fails to poop-scoop? Lonely, disgusting douchebags who never get laid. That's what.

"Do not throw [cigarettes] off your patio/balcony or in the breezeways/stairwells."

Clearly your crack-whore mother and your three-strikes father didn't teach you not to be a piece of shit. Fair enough. Here's the lowdown on how to become a 1% better human being.

"Please be courteous and mindful of others in the parking garage. Drive at a reasonable speed and be cautious of others in the garage."

Forty mph is not a reasonable speed, dickweed. Also, in America we drive on the right, not in the middle of the fucking lane. Oh, and if you're driving an enormous vehicle to compensate for your tiny penis, be extra courteous to those who drive with confidence in their sexuality. Thanks.

"The trash cans in the garage are for small items only."

Do NOT leave the shipping crate for your blow-up Buxom Betty sex doll next to the small trash can meant for, like, Whataburger bags. Unless you neglect to peel off the shipping label first. Then at least we can mock you and share your apartment number for all to see.

"Thanks for your time and cooperation."

We can totally let ourselves into your apartment and piss on your dishes whenever we want. And then we can evict you for no good reason, per our ridiculously restrictive lease. HA!

I'm fine with these rules and regulations. Because I'm not a complete twat. But apparently the twats are among us. Maybe some of them even wrote this letter.

Whatever. Just leave me alone. I promise not to paint my bedroom purple, OK?


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. Sounds like somebody's got a case of the Mondays.
    At least you don't have fucking antlers in the living room because that inevitably leads to baby antlers, and the way those things reproduce pretty soon you're up to your ears in antlers.
    Please clean up after your antlers.

  3. MY ex girlfriend lived in a block of flats where they put this kind of thing on the notice board in the lobby.


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