It has been months since the Boston Pops moved away. The apartment stayed vacant for a few months. I dreaded each day when my crappy landlords would showcase the empty abode to some random and probably criminal record holding, ruffian. Who is to know what kind of people they tried to get to squat next door to me. If it isn’t clear, you can obviously tell I am not too thrilled about my current living situation. I miss the Boston Pops. They were great neighbors and they did protect me from the evilness of Claudia (Dead Zombie Wife, the Ghost of Carlos, and the other unseen force determined to ruin me and rape me of all my life. All things end. Nothing last and while having an empty place I was able to run amok was fun and risqué, the old place couldn’t stay vacant forever. If it did, who would be there to ruin our children with the temptation of drugs, sex, and total anarchy? No one that’s who. These apartments have literally gone to shit. Worst place imaginable. I don’t think it’s in my contract/lease with these a-holes about talking smack on the place but I don’t care. I won’t mention where I live you but when I do move out (which is happening), I will unleash hell and explain how shady, horrible, and dangerous it is to live where I currently live. For now, the story about my new neighbor and the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

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