Friday, October 29, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Oh my god, you guys, have I got a story for you. A story all renters can relate to.
So, I have this neighbor. He lives on the second floor of a three-flat with his girlfriend/wife/whatever. They moved in just a few months ago.
Facts about this neighbor:
- He drives an Escalade.
- He parks a band trailer in our driveway.
- He is covered in tattoos and thinks this makes him badass.
- He does not work during the day, as far as I can tell.
- He has 2 tiny, yappy dogs that pee all over.
- He is an angry, angry man.
I found out that last part this weekend.
You see, this douchey neighbor of ours brought the party back to the apt. after a late night out at the bars. Around 2am, loud music and shouting filled the whole building. This is NOT the first time this has happened, but it is the first time we decided to say something about it.
We woke up early the next morning for Dave's bike race and left the neighbors a note telling them how loud they are. For perspective, we wrote about how we can even hear their phone vibrating. We wrote about how a loud party at midnight or 1am isn't a big deal, but 3am? 4am? a regular basis? Not okay.
What we got back was this:
Fuck ourselves? Fuck our mothers? OH NO YOU DIDN'T!!
This morning, I was in a blind rage, ready to march upstairs and give that tool a piece of my mind. Dave, ever the sane one, would not let me. He said we were going to handle this like grown ups. (Slash bitch about it on the Interwebs.)
While I've been at work, Dave has continued to go upstairs to try to talk to The Douche. The Douche, though he is certainly home, will not answer the door.
Plan of action: Continue knocking on the door every few hours until he answers. Keep the landlord in the loop by copying the absurdly aggressive note in with our rent check. Call the cops next time a party ensues. Keep calling the cops every weekend, if needed. Hope and pray that they don't renew their lease.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
I'd be the first to say that my dog is not what we'd call "handsome."
He's a stocky (62-lb), meaty little thing with beady eyes and a butt that will NOT stop shaking. He hates cats, loves food and takes up way too much space in the bed. But, as his mom, I also think he's the Cutest Damn Thing In The World. The brindle coat, the awkward ears, the white socks on his paws -- that's my baby boy.
Before you start thinking I'm delusional, yes, I know that he's definitely a Pit Bull. But Pit Bull and what? Full Pit? Pit-Boxer? Pit-Lab?
I was starting to feel like a bad mama who just swooped up some pup from the slums and never bothered to figure out what the heck he is. I care! I want to know! So, Dave and I did what any neurotic parents would do: We ordered a breed test.
We swabbed Rocco's mouth, popped the swab into a packet and mailed it in to WisdomPanel. And as of a few weeks ago, we got the results.
Are you ready?
...Pit Bull (American Staffordshire)...
...wait for it...
I'll let that sink in for a moment.
Back? Okay. Let's resume.
My dog is a Pit Bull/Dachshund mix. And we have the paperwork to prove it:
So, mystery solved. Now, the only mystery is why Rocco's grandpa raped a doxie, but I don't think we'll ever know the true answer to that.
Instead, I've put my energies into keeping a straight face when we go on our walks and I say, "Oh, him? He's a dachshund mix. No, I'm sure. We had him breed-tested. This is my precious little doxie boy!"
I think I speak for all of us when I say, the fuck?
Monday, October 4, 2010
- When you're buying something online, put it in your shopping cart and leave it there for a few days. As long as you've signed up for an account, there's a good chance the company will send you a discount so you come back and complete the purchase -- like, 25%.
- Buy deep purple polish. It's awesome.
- Do NOT cut corners when it comes to the pre-sewing process. For serious. I used to think I could blow through the measuring and cutting, and just really focus on the sewing part. No. Wrong. When you do that, you end up with drapes that look like trapezoids rather than rectangles.
- Always have extra sewing-machine needles lying around for when you drunk-sew and break your supply.
- Download Taxi Magic on your phone. It lets you book cabs, track them and charge them on your credit card. Plus it's free. (It does not, however, erase the stuffy cab pee smell.)
- Don't be scared of tomatillos. This. Salsa. Is. Badass. Also, don't skip the jalapeno. I don't even like spicy stuff, but it really misses the flavor when you leave it out.
- Always, always, always keep a pen in your purse. I've walked by the ATM several times already and couldn't deposit checks from this summer because my pen keeps disappearing/was never there to begin with.
- I used to whine about Comcast a while back, but ever since moving and getting AT&T, I've realized something very important: They both suck. In my case, AT&T sucks worse. Since switching to Comcast last week, our download speed is 4x faster and upload speed is 15x faster -- no joke. I'm sure AT&T will disappoint me eventually, so it's best to accept it and be happy that you've chosen one that just sucks less... for now.
- If you're going to paint a light wall a darker color, you have to prime it with gray first. Or buy that Behr premium-ultra-best-paint-ever stuff. Oh, and if you're going to paint something maroon/dark red, don't freak out when the paint guy gives you a mix that looks magenta. It will darken. Supposedly.
- For the love of christ, stop watching Jersey Shore.