(I'm re-posting the past installments for the folks who may not have read them previously, skip to the bottom for the latest.)
They say good friends are family you made yourself; as the military seZ ‘brothers from another mother’. Well, I seem to have made a little brother of my friend, Jimmy the Geek …and I can’t stand him for more than hour at a time. Why? He’s an intelligent, reliable, trustworthy
…GEEK! Hence the name, -you know the kind; smart to a fault but born without a personality?
For example; many moons ago, (when I had television) I’d mentioned to him that I’d seen the last third of ‘The Hulk’ movie- the first one, the one that had really sucked; and told him that I agreed with the critics that it was pretty bad. Jimmy, being a comic book fanboy (like many geeks are), wanted to know why I thought so. Well, I didn’t get the ending, I explained, who was that old guy who was dropped into the movie at the last minute? He didn’t make any sense. Suddenly, against my will, I forced to hear the entire comic history of the Hulk from his Silver Age origins to present day storylines that I’d never given a fork about before. My ears struggled to endure this torture which went on for nearly 30 minutes, while afterwards my brain tried to sue me for cruel and unusual punishment, and emotional distress.
Jimmy’s dissertation was worse than when my Ex, who was also a Geek, tried to relay the entire reality series ‘The Mole’ to me over brunch. No really, the whole forkin’ thing! The non-verbal cues of my eyes-glazing over and snoring into my scabbled eggs, just didn’t register to him the fact that I had had NO interest what-so-ever in that show, which was why I hadn’t watched it in the first place. Comprendo??
Geeks like my Ex and Jimmy, can not understand how frightfully mind-numbing neurotic attention to detail can be to normal people. Especially when you didn’t give a ratZ ass about the subject matter to begin with. You wanna cry: ‘Get pathologically anal somewhere else, before I bludgeon some social skills into you!’
After my Hulk trauma, I came out of my nerd-induced coma to realize my mental health depended on limiting my exposure to Jimmy to small doses. The very real possibility of being bored to death, loomed too mightily before me so, I also learned the survival tactic of controlling the conversation with him. It may seem impolite, but when he starts going on, and on, and on about a topic, I care nothing about, or stopped caring about after the 15th repetition of it; I’ll give one warning shot, ‘OK, I gotta go… ’ and if he keeps talking (which he usually does), I’ll finish him off with, ‘Uh-huh, gotta save phone minutes, bye’ click
He’s also one of those people who calls to tell you he’s coming over, just to describe to his countdown to your door. ‘I’m passing Homestead Blvd., I’ll be there in 15 min. …be there in 14 min. …it’ll be about 13 min.’ At that point, I just cut in with OK, see you then, bye. Click
Also, Jimmy’ll call me after he’s picked up his kids, and as you can guess his speech will be scattered and disjointed as well as boring, because he’ll be trying to talk to them and I and the same time. Attempting to be civil, I’ll say, ‘Well, I can tell you’re busy so I’ll let you go.’ Whereupon he’ll valiantly continue to try to carry on three or four inane coversations at once, and once again I’ll say, ‘Uh-huh, gotta save phone minutes, bye’ click (I don’t feel so guilty about doing this last maneuver, because it’s already impolite to call someone and leave them dangling on the line, while you talk to someone else.)
In spite of my rude treatment, Jimmy the Geek insisted on being a good friend. How did this happen, you ask, in genuine concern for my sanity? How, when I’d sworn off geeks forever after my marriage to a control freak-geek? Was not one soul-stagnating relationship enough for one lifetime? Weeeeeeeell, in Jimmy’s case, it helped that I had been his boss; his Squad Leader in fact, so he's used to following my orders. I'm not being rude, I'm being authoritative! Yes, that’s right, we’d served together as Seabee supervisor and subordinate; and being military I don’t care about anybody’s past or personality, if they can deliver what the job requires. That’s all that matters. Jimmy certainly could: like I said, he’s intelligent, reliable and trustworthy. All good qualities in a fireteam member. Shoot, all good qualities in a friend, so when outside of Seabee circles, if he needed a favor from me, or I needed a favor from him; we knew who we could count on. This day, one of us needed gas money- that day, one of us needed road-side rescue, and so on. In this economy, the favors kept getting bigger and bigger; right up to my getting Jimmy a job at my workplace when he was really struggling.
Thank dog, we’re not in the same department; naturally they put him Electronics, the native habitat of geek-kind, and he’s doing well there. However, this does mean I’m forced to talk to him more often. Since I can’t hang up on him, I try my best to carry on an interesting conversation from my end. Too bad he doesn’t listen to it; he’s too busy trying to figure out what I’m going to say before I’ve finished saying it. (That’s the geek way of expressing interest in you.) Our dialogue can go like this;
Loca: ‘The other day…’
Jimmy: ‘Was it Tuesday?’
Loca: ‘No, the other day I went downtown…’
Jimmy: ‘To the movies? I just saw good movie too…’
Loca: ‘No, I went downtown to the courthouse…’
Jimmy: ‘Why’d you go to the courthouse? What happened?’
Loca: ‘Well, if you’d let me finish, you’d find out.’
Such as it is, I’ve also gotten skilled at redirecting the conversation back on topic with, “Kay, my point was…” or “As I was saying…” With that guidance, and a whip and a chair, he’s gotten (a little) better trained, and I seem to have built up more of a nerdiness tolerance.
Unfortunately, Lawd help me, it’s about to get worse! The next favor is of mutual need; his family are being evicted, and I need more income. Therefore, Jimmy the Geek and his family moving in with me- Oh the humanity! How am I going to survive he and I being roommates without strangling him in front of his children? My initial plan was to hole up in the back bedroom- barricade the door and not open it except for rent payments, but that would be discourteous and not good. He is offering to help out with computer repairs and chores, too. So, my other option is to interact with Jimmy and his family till I’m driven so mad by geekiness that I lobotomize myself with a eyebrow pencil ...also not good.
While I can deal with difficult people, I’d always had the refuge of my home to flee to at the end of the day and now that’s going to be invaded by the geekiest of the geeky, including his whole brood of baby geeks. Being with Jimmy the Geek at work and at home will be geekiness at an unprecedented level of 24/7! Ugh! Like I need to go any crazier.
Maybe it’s time to break out the taser, and intensify the training? Start him out with paper-training to geek only in a certain spot indoors. Next, teach him to only be geeky outside when he’s on a leash, where I can follow him around with a geeker scooper? Then his geekiness can be cleanly disposed of before he’s let back inside. I hope I don’t have to fit him with a shock collar that zaps him when he geeks, that’s a little too mean.
Is there such a thing as geek-neutering?
With Friends like These cont.
Re: With Friends like These cont.
What I’m really worried about is Jimmy the geek might get along with my neighbors, not my normal neighbors, but the crazy cat-lady and her mean husband- Brandine and Cletus Spuckler. See: Jimmy really trys desperately to be sociable; it’s part of the reason he always so dependable- he’ll never say ‘no’ to a friend. So, I’m freaking out that as soon as Brandine realizes that she’ll be over here every day <shudder>. She’s tried that before, back when the Ex and I were still living together here.
It was on the premise of ‘keeping me company’ while the Ex was out of town for about a week. The problem was I didn’t want any company, that week I was also working 12 hour shifts for a boss I couldn’t stand, and at the end of the day, all I wanted to do was to get off my feet and relax in peace. The very first night, minutes after I arrived home, Brandine came knocking at my door. I thought, shoot it’s late and I’m tired, but I shouldn’t be unneighborly, and made the big mistake of letting her in. I couldn’t make anything to eat because then I’d have to cook a real meal for her too. Besides, she’s allergic to everything. Most common Brandine quote is, “Ah, it made me [th]ick!” So, I was hoping she’d make this visit short. Not-a-chance, she was enjoying herself immensely by being such a good friend to keep me company that she stayed and talked about her cats for a whole hour. (Those are the only two topics of conversation she has; her cats- which ones are crazy, which ones are sick and which ones are dead; and how “Cletus is being unbearable.”) Well, that and her litany of gastic distress. So, you can see how intellectually stimulating her visits can be. At other times, I have honestly picked up a magazine and muttered ‘uh-huh’, every 60 seconds until she’s left. That night, I was too tired to do even that, and pretty much just set my head on auto-nod, and drifted off to my happy place, chanting ‘calmblueoceancalmblueoceancalmblueocean’ so that I wouldn’t chase her out with a broom. Not that she noticed anything unusual about that. Finally, she left and I awarded myself the highest honor of ‘Lover of thy Neighbor’ …wait, that came out wrong. Take Two. I was a ‘Good Samaritan Above and Beyond the Call of Duty’ …there!
I’m sure she felt that way too, because the next night she came back after I’d barely dropped my keys on the table! ¡Orale’ chingado! What can one woman take!? This time I didn’t ask her to sit, but we stood at the living room table while I tried to broadcast my weariness with work and her unwelcome warbling, that and the fact that I needed a shower and the crud was calcifying on me as she chattered. I wanted to eat & rest, damn it, not entertain please! Fortuitously, before I passed out or petrified, she got the message and didn’t stay too long.
…but the next night she was back!
Ugh, that was it. I spoke to her through the door, but didn’t ask her in. I didn’t want to hear anymore about her forkin’ cats! What’s weird is she kept trying to walk in the door anyway, and seemed surprised to find I had a grip firmly on it and wasn’t letting go! That exchange was mercifully short, and after three tries at the door like a bird trying to fly through a closed window, she departed. She’s gotten used to that by now. If I hold the door, or say, ‘Let’s talk out on the porch’ she knows she’s only getting a few minutes of cat-babbling. Oh, I let her in now and then, when stars align my serenity.
As I said, now I’m very afraid Jimmy will open the door to her and let her wax ineloquently to her heart’s desire and my mental stability’s doom (such as it is). I definitely will have to barricade myself in the back room to prevent a, however justifiable, homicide or two.
Not the way to treat a neighbor nor new tenant normally, I know, but perfectly natural under the circumstances. You ain’t telling me you wouldn’t use the ‘shotgun solution’ in my place, if you could? So, I think I’m being down-right, open-armed.
Maybe Jimmy the Geek will be satisfied with going over to her house, and talking about his cats. Yea that’s right, he’s bringing over geeky cats too! Oh no! They already have something in common! I’ve got to warn Jimmy that she refuses to flea-bomb that place. It may have been something she carried into my house that killed my bunny. (I just realized that, damn!)
Just so long as they don’t expect me to join them, I’ve had enough of that trailer. As you know, I’ve braved that biohazard for short periods of time. Well, last year since Brandine had returned to Cletus, I made the mistake of accepting a dinner invitation. I’d been putting it off for over ten years and I should have trusted my instincts. With no work and no life, Brandine had said she’d been doing a lot of housekeeping so, I hoped for the best and made sure my shots were up to date. They were down to about five cats at that time, about five too many. The crazy ones were hiding under the furniture, and witnessing what Brandine was like in her own home, I understood what had drove them round the bend. It seems as my guest, she was on her best behavior. Under her roof, she feathered a neurotic's nest. Constantly fretfull around Cletus, she chain-smoked constantly and refused to speak to him except in spits and snarls. She would talk to me; interrupting what Cletus and I were discussing like he wasn’t there. Gawd, those two were meant for each other. I guess the compromise they made to save their marriage was they’d take turns being insufferable bastards to each other, and since I was her guest that night, it was her turn.
If he didn’t do what she told him, she snapped at him. If he did do what she told him, she bitched at him. That wasn’t the worst part, I can deal with strange and difficult people, but I did NOT stay for dessert. When the cats started coming out, she mewed at her babies and let them jump up on the table. That was it, I kept them away from my area but Cletus was letting one eat off his plate! Gah! I have not been back, nor will I ever be back! Not without a biowarefare suit and a full decontamination.
It was on the premise of ‘keeping me company’ while the Ex was out of town for about a week. The problem was I didn’t want any company, that week I was also working 12 hour shifts for a boss I couldn’t stand, and at the end of the day, all I wanted to do was to get off my feet and relax in peace. The very first night, minutes after I arrived home, Brandine came knocking at my door. I thought, shoot it’s late and I’m tired, but I shouldn’t be unneighborly, and made the big mistake of letting her in. I couldn’t make anything to eat because then I’d have to cook a real meal for her too. Besides, she’s allergic to everything. Most common Brandine quote is, “Ah, it made me [th]ick!” So, I was hoping she’d make this visit short. Not-a-chance, she was enjoying herself immensely by being such a good friend to keep me company that she stayed and talked about her cats for a whole hour. (Those are the only two topics of conversation she has; her cats- which ones are crazy, which ones are sick and which ones are dead; and how “Cletus is being unbearable.”) Well, that and her litany of gastic distress. So, you can see how intellectually stimulating her visits can be. At other times, I have honestly picked up a magazine and muttered ‘uh-huh’, every 60 seconds until she’s left. That night, I was too tired to do even that, and pretty much just set my head on auto-nod, and drifted off to my happy place, chanting ‘calmblueoceancalmblueoceancalmblueocean’ so that I wouldn’t chase her out with a broom. Not that she noticed anything unusual about that. Finally, she left and I awarded myself the highest honor of ‘Lover of thy Neighbor’ …wait, that came out wrong. Take Two. I was a ‘Good Samaritan Above and Beyond the Call of Duty’ …there!
I’m sure she felt that way too, because the next night she came back after I’d barely dropped my keys on the table! ¡Orale’ chingado! What can one woman take!? This time I didn’t ask her to sit, but we stood at the living room table while I tried to broadcast my weariness with work and her unwelcome warbling, that and the fact that I needed a shower and the crud was calcifying on me as she chattered. I wanted to eat & rest, damn it, not entertain please! Fortuitously, before I passed out or petrified, she got the message and didn’t stay too long.
…but the next night she was back!
Ugh, that was it. I spoke to her through the door, but didn’t ask her in. I didn’t want to hear anymore about her forkin’ cats! What’s weird is she kept trying to walk in the door anyway, and seemed surprised to find I had a grip firmly on it and wasn’t letting go! That exchange was mercifully short, and after three tries at the door like a bird trying to fly through a closed window, she departed. She’s gotten used to that by now. If I hold the door, or say, ‘Let’s talk out on the porch’ she knows she’s only getting a few minutes of cat-babbling. Oh, I let her in now and then, when stars align my serenity.
As I said, now I’m very afraid Jimmy will open the door to her and let her wax ineloquently to her heart’s desire and my mental stability’s doom (such as it is). I definitely will have to barricade myself in the back room to prevent a, however justifiable, homicide or two.
Not the way to treat a neighbor nor new tenant normally, I know, but perfectly natural under the circumstances. You ain’t telling me you wouldn’t use the ‘shotgun solution’ in my place, if you could? So, I think I’m being down-right, open-armed.
Maybe Jimmy the Geek will be satisfied with going over to her house, and talking about his cats. Yea that’s right, he’s bringing over geeky cats too! Oh no! They already have something in common! I’ve got to warn Jimmy that she refuses to flea-bomb that place. It may have been something she carried into my house that killed my bunny. (I just realized that, damn!)
Just so long as they don’t expect me to join them, I’ve had enough of that trailer. As you know, I’ve braved that biohazard for short periods of time. Well, last year since Brandine had returned to Cletus, I made the mistake of accepting a dinner invitation. I’d been putting it off for over ten years and I should have trusted my instincts. With no work and no life, Brandine had said she’d been doing a lot of housekeeping so, I hoped for the best and made sure my shots were up to date. They were down to about five cats at that time, about five too many. The crazy ones were hiding under the furniture, and witnessing what Brandine was like in her own home, I understood what had drove them round the bend. It seems as my guest, she was on her best behavior. Under her roof, she feathered a neurotic's nest. Constantly fretfull around Cletus, she chain-smoked constantly and refused to speak to him except in spits and snarls. She would talk to me; interrupting what Cletus and I were discussing like he wasn’t there. Gawd, those two were meant for each other. I guess the compromise they made to save their marriage was they’d take turns being insufferable bastards to each other, and since I was her guest that night, it was her turn.
If he didn’t do what she told him, she snapped at him. If he did do what she told him, she bitched at him. That wasn’t the worst part, I can deal with strange and difficult people, but I did NOT stay for dessert. When the cats started coming out, she mewed at her babies and let them jump up on the table. That was it, I kept them away from my area but Cletus was letting one eat off his plate! Gah! I have not been back, nor will I ever be back! Not without a biowarefare suit and a full decontamination.
Re: With Friends like These cont.
The Move is going alright.
Jimmy the Geek; his Geekkids and his woman, have slowly been shipping boxes into La Casa de Loca. Ah, did I not mention he has a long-term girlfriend/wife? They were supposed to get officially married years ago, but somehow that didn’t happen. [If any of you can recall, I had my doubts about their gittin’ hitched, and have said so to Jimmy’s face! So, instead they’ve just had an extended shack-up. Might be the economy, who can afford a big wedding these days? Might be Jimmy realizes deep down she’s not ‘The One’, but he’s not the type to selfishly abandon any form of family.
They have no mutual children of their own, but are like the interracial, extramarital Brady Brunch; he has three or four kids and his white wifefriend has two or three, more. It’s hard to take an accurate head count of all their offspring- they don’t sit still long enough; or else the critters’re off at various court-ordered custody visits. Such are the ways of today’s urban Latinos- we breed like rabbits then hook-up with white welfare moms who procreate like-wise. (I shouldn’t say that, it’s not true. She’s not on welfare, but it sounds funnier that way.)
That’s right; JTG is Latino, but not Mexican- not a Latin of native Meso-American descent but of Polynesian ancestry: in fact, he’s a Flip- a Philippino. (What, I’m not being racist, they call themselves that.) You knew that, right? That the Spaniard expansionist colonization extended to the Pacific Islands? That’s as far ‘Far East’ as they got, and as much, neglected to destroy the native culture as far they did in Mexico. As per their initial invasion plan, the Spaniards established the Catholic Church, and baptized every man, woman and child, willingly or not, with Spanish Surnames. However, there wasn’t very much land or gold to plunder so, the natives weren’t exploited by the Conquistadors to the same extent the Latinized Mexicans were.
Not-so coincidently, because of my Spanish Surname, I’m often mistaken by the Flips, as a Flip; and they ask if I’m a Philippina? (Short, brown, cute- it’s an easy mistake.) My standard reply is ‘No, but I wish I was, I hear that family is RICH!’ (They own a whole island in PI.) So, somewhereZ in my distant past, my Spaniard ancestor either had a lot of brothers spreading the family name around the Americas, or a single Spanish sailor was a one very busy, amorous, ambassador!
These days, it stands to reason that you’ll find Philippinos all over the Pacific. That’s how I’ve met so many of them; the US Navy is rife with Flips. While the Philippine Islands were never US Territory, the government would grant full citizenship to any Flips who served in our Military (they usually pick the Navy); as a kind of a ‘gracias’ to the people who tried to aid and comfort the American servicemen who suffered in the Bataan Death March of WWII. I’ve never understood it, but to this day the Japanese racially discriminate against Philippinos, when they were the ones acting like barbarians in the PI homeland, go figure.
AnywayZ, that’s a Flip: Community First; that’s the best and worst thing about them; they’re hyper-social. Everything is a group activity to them; if it didn’t start out that way they’ll make it a social function. You can’t coff without a crowd, crowding in to join you. They’re like the original, organic, oriental, Borg- ‘You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile!’ Ask any US Sailor, who falls for a Lady Flip: if you marry a Philippina Girl, you’re marrying her whole family! It’s like my ‘Big, Fat, Greek Wedding’ without the olives, and more lumpia. [So much abut Philippino socializing revolves around food! Have you been to a PI house party? They set aside a whole room or patio for the buffet tables. …and they will not allow you to leave until you eat A LOT. They won’t! Best you can do is say, ‘Gimme a plate to take with me.’ Then they’ll load you up a lunch you gotta cart out on a wheelbarrow. I’ve feasted for a fortnight on those ToGo plates. There’s no explanation for how those people stay so skinny!] That group-mentality however, is the secret to their success; they’re excellent team players, but leave a Flip alone for more than ten minutes, and like JTG does, they have to call someone to talk to, out of extreme loneliness. ‘Rugged Individualism’ is a foreign concept to them! Shoot, if the group just isn’t big enough, they’ll call in for reinforcements to fill up the corners.
I think that’s what’s behind my unease around Jimmy, I understand it’s because he likes and respects me, but he’s trying to insist on integrating me into his family. …And I don’wanna! The way I relax after work is in solitude; compared to JTG, I’m anti-social. (Yes, even big Mexican families will leave you alone once in a while!) I’ve tried explaining myself to him that way since he’s convinced I’m going to whither and die due to lack of super-social contact, like he’s used to. As it is, he’s completely baffled as to why I don’t want to hang out with his chaotic circus of children and cats at the end of a long day. Sheesh, I can barely take ONE crazy cat-lady at a time, and he thinks I’m gonna enjoy a whole crazy cat-family!? What’s he been smoking, balut?
His idea of compromise was to follow me home some days, to keep me company he seZ. What? No, nothing romantic about that- he’s under explicit orders NOT to touch me. Seriously. Like his people, he can be touchy-feely to the point of creepiness, and after I got him hired, he started showing his appreciation by affectionately grabbing me by the neck and shoulder… usually by surprise from the back. [!!!] He’s lucky I haven’t punched him the throat- I gotta thing about sneak attacks; and had to strongly suggest to him to cease such unwise action before I couldn’t restrain myself!
What will make this transition from single to small village living easier is my new job is on a night shift. I’ll be gone in the evenings until very late, and can always claim to be too pooped to hyper-socialize should JTG & Co., still be up when I get home. Can you believe that when we were first hashing this out, and working at the same place, JTG was sure we were going to schedule the same shifts together, so we could spend every waking moment in tandem!? Shoot, somebody tell him; we’re just good friends- I’m NOT marrying him; he’s already got a wifefriend! It’s a Rental Agreement not a Rite of Passage; this is business, not bonding, Okay?
On the plus side, my off-putting attitude is reassuring to his wifefriend – there’s no worries that I remotely want to be ‘the other woman’. In fact, I’ve authorized another fellow Seabee to shoot me if I ever show any emotional interest in Jimmy; if I’m ever that deranged & desperate- it’s time to put me outta my misery.
Another plus is, she makes JTG a bit less geeky, he’s gotta be THE MAN around her; so this roommate & mate & family just might work out.
The Geekkids have also picked up on- ‘Loca’s the Boss!’ since that’s how he acts around me. One of his daughters (which one? Oh, I dunno… um, I think it’s number two?) is getting pretty enamored of me since she’s taken an interest in Japanese Art and Culture; (guess she didn’t hear about the Bataan thing) and I’ve actually been to Nippon a few times. Just wait till she sees my simulated Samurai Helmet!
Oops, no wait, that would be getting familiar, and I don’t want that, right?
Jimmy the Geek; his Geekkids and his woman, have slowly been shipping boxes into La Casa de Loca. Ah, did I not mention he has a long-term girlfriend/wife? They were supposed to get officially married years ago, but somehow that didn’t happen. [If any of you can recall, I had my doubts about their gittin’ hitched, and have said so to Jimmy’s face! So, instead they’ve just had an extended shack-up. Might be the economy, who can afford a big wedding these days? Might be Jimmy realizes deep down she’s not ‘The One’, but he’s not the type to selfishly abandon any form of family.
They have no mutual children of their own, but are like the interracial, extramarital Brady Brunch; he has three or four kids and his white wifefriend has two or three, more. It’s hard to take an accurate head count of all their offspring- they don’t sit still long enough; or else the critters’re off at various court-ordered custody visits. Such are the ways of today’s urban Latinos- we breed like rabbits then hook-up with white welfare moms who procreate like-wise. (I shouldn’t say that, it’s not true. She’s not on welfare, but it sounds funnier that way.)
That’s right; JTG is Latino, but not Mexican- not a Latin of native Meso-American descent but of Polynesian ancestry: in fact, he’s a Flip- a Philippino. (What, I’m not being racist, they call themselves that.) You knew that, right? That the Spaniard expansionist colonization extended to the Pacific Islands? That’s as far ‘Far East’ as they got, and as much, neglected to destroy the native culture as far they did in Mexico. As per their initial invasion plan, the Spaniards established the Catholic Church, and baptized every man, woman and child, willingly or not, with Spanish Surnames. However, there wasn’t very much land or gold to plunder so, the natives weren’t exploited by the Conquistadors to the same extent the Latinized Mexicans were.
Not-so coincidently, because of my Spanish Surname, I’m often mistaken by the Flips, as a Flip; and they ask if I’m a Philippina? (Short, brown, cute- it’s an easy mistake.) My standard reply is ‘No, but I wish I was, I hear that family is RICH!’ (They own a whole island in PI.) So, somewhereZ in my distant past, my Spaniard ancestor either had a lot of brothers spreading the family name around the Americas, or a single Spanish sailor was a one very busy, amorous, ambassador!
These days, it stands to reason that you’ll find Philippinos all over the Pacific. That’s how I’ve met so many of them; the US Navy is rife with Flips. While the Philippine Islands were never US Territory, the government would grant full citizenship to any Flips who served in our Military (they usually pick the Navy); as a kind of a ‘gracias’ to the people who tried to aid and comfort the American servicemen who suffered in the Bataan Death March of WWII. I’ve never understood it, but to this day the Japanese racially discriminate against Philippinos, when they were the ones acting like barbarians in the PI homeland, go figure.
AnywayZ, that’s a Flip: Community First; that’s the best and worst thing about them; they’re hyper-social. Everything is a group activity to them; if it didn’t start out that way they’ll make it a social function. You can’t coff without a crowd, crowding in to join you. They’re like the original, organic, oriental, Borg- ‘You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile!’ Ask any US Sailor, who falls for a Lady Flip: if you marry a Philippina Girl, you’re marrying her whole family! It’s like my ‘Big, Fat, Greek Wedding’ without the olives, and more lumpia. [So much abut Philippino socializing revolves around food! Have you been to a PI house party? They set aside a whole room or patio for the buffet tables. …and they will not allow you to leave until you eat A LOT. They won’t! Best you can do is say, ‘Gimme a plate to take with me.’ Then they’ll load you up a lunch you gotta cart out on a wheelbarrow. I’ve feasted for a fortnight on those ToGo plates. There’s no explanation for how those people stay so skinny!] That group-mentality however, is the secret to their success; they’re excellent team players, but leave a Flip alone for more than ten minutes, and like JTG does, they have to call someone to talk to, out of extreme loneliness. ‘Rugged Individualism’ is a foreign concept to them! Shoot, if the group just isn’t big enough, they’ll call in for reinforcements to fill up the corners.
I think that’s what’s behind my unease around Jimmy, I understand it’s because he likes and respects me, but he’s trying to insist on integrating me into his family. …And I don’wanna! The way I relax after work is in solitude; compared to JTG, I’m anti-social. (Yes, even big Mexican families will leave you alone once in a while!) I’ve tried explaining myself to him that way since he’s convinced I’m going to whither and die due to lack of super-social contact, like he’s used to. As it is, he’s completely baffled as to why I don’t want to hang out with his chaotic circus of children and cats at the end of a long day. Sheesh, I can barely take ONE crazy cat-lady at a time, and he thinks I’m gonna enjoy a whole crazy cat-family!? What’s he been smoking, balut?
His idea of compromise was to follow me home some days, to keep me company he seZ. What? No, nothing romantic about that- he’s under explicit orders NOT to touch me. Seriously. Like his people, he can be touchy-feely to the point of creepiness, and after I got him hired, he started showing his appreciation by affectionately grabbing me by the neck and shoulder… usually by surprise from the back. [!!!] He’s lucky I haven’t punched him the throat- I gotta thing about sneak attacks; and had to strongly suggest to him to cease such unwise action before I couldn’t restrain myself!
What will make this transition from single to small village living easier is my new job is on a night shift. I’ll be gone in the evenings until very late, and can always claim to be too pooped to hyper-socialize should JTG & Co., still be up when I get home. Can you believe that when we were first hashing this out, and working at the same place, JTG was sure we were going to schedule the same shifts together, so we could spend every waking moment in tandem!? Shoot, somebody tell him; we’re just good friends- I’m NOT marrying him; he’s already got a wifefriend! It’s a Rental Agreement not a Rite of Passage; this is business, not bonding, Okay?
On the plus side, my off-putting attitude is reassuring to his wifefriend – there’s no worries that I remotely want to be ‘the other woman’. In fact, I’ve authorized another fellow Seabee to shoot me if I ever show any emotional interest in Jimmy; if I’m ever that deranged & desperate- it’s time to put me outta my misery.
Another plus is, she makes JTG a bit less geeky, he’s gotta be THE MAN around her; so this roommate & mate & family just might work out.
The Geekkids have also picked up on- ‘Loca’s the Boss!’ since that’s how he acts around me. One of his daughters (which one? Oh, I dunno… um, I think it’s number two?) is getting pretty enamored of me since she’s taken an interest in Japanese Art and Culture; (guess she didn’t hear about the Bataan thing) and I’ve actually been to Nippon a few times. Just wait till she sees my simulated Samurai Helmet!
Oops, no wait, that would be getting familiar, and I don’t want that, right?
Re: With Friends like These cont.
~Eek!~ He wants me! I can’t keep him away from me; he keeps trying to lay his sweaty paws all over me! I’ve told him, No means no, but he just doesn’t get it! Who’s that, the intrepid reader wants to know? Surely, not Jimmy the Geek? No, not JTG, he’s not engaged in any off limits pawing or else I’d have broken him into little bitty pieces ...Although, he has used the ‘S’ word on me. My guard was down for just a second and he said I was like a ‘sister to him’. Oh great, I’m getting infected with the Flip virus already; the assimilation begins! Where’d my shoes go!? Why is there this urge to deep fry everything chicken flavored!? What do you got there cereal and milk? Here let me do that adobo-style for you…
Ack! Snap-out-of-it, Loca <smack-smack!> (No, you may not join in, in the smacking, I got it covered.)
Fortunately, my welding job is once again saving my Hispanic soul. For being on night-shift, the guys can play their musica on the radio, and loudly & proudly, I get a daily dose of Mexican Ballads to Women & Lal Revolucion. Yes, this crew has the taste to listen to traditional tunes and not pseudo-Latin (c)rap. Thus, I’m reminded of my Beaner-Bandito heritage, to ward off the encroaching flipness.
So, who was the stalker?
Jimmy’s friggin’ cat #5! He’s fallen head over balls for me, and I don’t know why!?. Cat5 is outside, right now, trying to squeeze in under the door to smother me with fuzzy, kitty love! Help, I’m being drowned in pussy!
No really, this is kinda weird; all I did was pet him like I did all the other catZ, one through four, and this one took it as sign from Bast that we were meant to be together.
I thought Philippinos were bad, then I met their cats. It’s not enough not fill up a street with hordes of little brown geekkids, they gotta breed their little geekkats too. (Jimmy seZ this is because if one kid gets a cat, they all want a cat. Ummm ‘kay, we’ll pretend that’s logical…)
While Flips are hyper-social, their cats are hyper-needy. …well, Cat5 is. This is why I haven’t lived amongst cats much: is climbing your pants leg like a mountaineer on a glacier, something normal? (Good thing I had my wrok jeans on.) Is this a sign of affection or psychosis? Should I change my phone number and get a restraining order?. I gotta tell ya, it kinda creeped me out; I kept hoping peeling him off and ignoring his advances would make him go away, but I can’t cross the room without Cat5 scooting between my legs and trying to waylay me. I guess his plan was to knock me out when I hit the floor and cuddle my collarbone till the paramedics arrived …if they arrived. CatZ don’t care to call 911. Unconscious, you’re still warm and breathing, therefore still cuddle-able; that’s all they care about. Forget your fractured spine caused by a feline intervention; you can still open a cat-tin with your teeth, I suppose.
Instead, I’ve decided to punt.
As gently as possible, but I boot him outta the way. Walk to the kitchen, *boot*. Go for the mail, *boot*. Brush my teeth *boot-boot-boot* (Damn, bunnies aren’t so needy.) How many points do I get for punting Cat5 through a doorway?
Ack! Snap-out-of-it, Loca <smack-smack!> (No, you may not join in, in the smacking, I got it covered.)
Fortunately, my welding job is once again saving my Hispanic soul. For being on night-shift, the guys can play their musica on the radio, and loudly & proudly, I get a daily dose of Mexican Ballads to Women & Lal Revolucion. Yes, this crew has the taste to listen to traditional tunes and not pseudo-Latin (c)rap. Thus, I’m reminded of my Beaner-Bandito heritage, to ward off the encroaching flipness.
So, who was the stalker?
Jimmy’s friggin’ cat #5! He’s fallen head over balls for me, and I don’t know why!?. Cat5 is outside, right now, trying to squeeze in under the door to smother me with fuzzy, kitty love! Help, I’m being drowned in pussy!
No really, this is kinda weird; all I did was pet him like I did all the other catZ, one through four, and this one took it as sign from Bast that we were meant to be together.
I thought Philippinos were bad, then I met their cats. It’s not enough not fill up a street with hordes of little brown geekkids, they gotta breed their little geekkats too. (Jimmy seZ this is because if one kid gets a cat, they all want a cat. Ummm ‘kay, we’ll pretend that’s logical…)
While Flips are hyper-social, their cats are hyper-needy. …well, Cat5 is. This is why I haven’t lived amongst cats much: is climbing your pants leg like a mountaineer on a glacier, something normal? (Good thing I had my wrok jeans on.) Is this a sign of affection or psychosis? Should I change my phone number and get a restraining order?. I gotta tell ya, it kinda creeped me out; I kept hoping peeling him off and ignoring his advances would make him go away, but I can’t cross the room without Cat5 scooting between my legs and trying to waylay me. I guess his plan was to knock me out when I hit the floor and cuddle my collarbone till the paramedics arrived …if they arrived. CatZ don’t care to call 911. Unconscious, you’re still warm and breathing, therefore still cuddle-able; that’s all they care about. Forget your fractured spine caused by a feline intervention; you can still open a cat-tin with your teeth, I suppose.
Instead, I’ve decided to punt.
As gently as possible, but I boot him outta the way. Walk to the kitchen, *boot*. Go for the mail, *boot*. Brush my teeth *boot-boot-boot* (Damn, bunnies aren’t so needy.) How many points do I get for punting Cat5 through a doorway?
Big Sister = Big Mistake
The following account you are about hear is true. Only the names have been changed to ensure plausible deniability.
♪♫ She’s… the… one… ♪♫
That’s what he said, after I’ve;
Put up with the geekkids.
Put up with the geekkats.
Even put up with the geekklutter - (Over two weeks into The Move and they haven’t stored or arranged their stuff properly yet! There’re just mounds and mounds of geekkrap everywhere …you can’t even get through the front door …seriously.)
Never-ever should I have let Jimmy the Geek call me his ‘sister’, BIG mistake, big-big mistake. Why? Dunno how it is in your family, but in a large Latino family the youngest son (which is what JTG is) always is and forever more will be ‘the baby’, with all the perks and privileges that implies thereof. Any acceptance of family ties to Jimmy meant he could fall back into preconceived social patterns. In other words: Little Brother laid around the house and waited for kin to dote on him, unless of course, someone specifically told him to do something! …this literally meant: ten days into the first month of this living arrangement and Jimmy still hadn’t paid rent!!! D’oh! <Loca smacks forehead> Big Sis should NOT have to nag about his; he should know that’s what the wifefriend is for.
If he didn’t want to deal with family, he should have chosen the other youngest male Latino option of becoming a member of the clergy.
Speaking of which; did I ever tell ya, I corrupted a priest? That is: laid the wages of sin and exacted temptations of the flesh upon a mere mortal man? Okay, he wasn’t ordained, in fact he wasn’t exactly a ‘Padre’ at all, but a young man who had entertained the possibility of joining the priesthood in order to follow the other large family tradition of the youngest son joining the church. Well, he had decided in his own time that the Catholaholic life wasn’t for him, but it had taken him so long that he was still a virgin at 25. Loca took it as her own personal calling to cure him of that celibate condition. (One of her proudest moments.) Now, I’m either divine or damned for helping that poor man see God.
Jimmy, may just be sent to meet his maker.
Prior to moving in he’d assured me, absolutely assured me, that rent wouldn’t be a problem this month since his wifefriend had just received a big tax refund. Imagine my relief that my brief unemployment stint wasn’t going to delay MY rent payments to my own much more impatient landlord. Yea right.
First it was: ‘Sure we’ll be able to pay you, we’ll even pay you half early’
.
Then it was: ‘We’ll pay you all of it on the first.’
And then: ‘We’ll pay you half on the first’
An’ den: (after the first of the month had passed): ‘After we pay for this car repair, we’ll pay you half’
Later: ‘We’ll pay you what we can next week.’
Then it got worse.
What he gave me, ten days after he’d moved in, amounted to a quarter of what we’d agreed on; half of half of what I was anticipating I could pay MY bills with.
This did not bode well for the harmony of La Casa de Loca and its inhabitants. Now, I warn people in advance, Don’t piss me off- I’m crazy; I have a gun, a spade and a bucket a lye. Think wisely. Thus far, Jimmy had me pissed off to the point I was repressing the crazy-making urges for the sake of his geekkids, what with this weak offering which was far from being fair, and into the ‘being taken advantage of’ range.
Thus with the tact of the terminally geeky, JTG had to do something stupid.
His idea of compensating for reneging on his rent, was to clean out some of the boxes of geekkrap that geekkluttered the hallway. Brilliantly, this involved blindly grabbing everything, including some of MY stuff and dumping it in the backyard …when the weatherman and I had repeatedly advised showers with a high chance of RAIN!
Talk about dampening the harmonics!
I waited for the first drops to hit the debris, because moisture in the soil makes it lighter and easier to dig a good, Jimmy-sized, pit, with more dirt moved per shovelful. You gotta figure that’s why grave-diggers always seem to be working in rainstorms in the movies? There’s gotta be a grain of truth to that: that in fact burying a body in the dry dust is harder than scooping soft soil for a final resting place.
Actually I didn’t do that, geeks are allergic to blunt objects, besides planting him didn’t guarantee he’d bear fruit.
(Barely) Withholding the brandishing of a shovel, that boy got a brow beatin’, Squad Leader style. Voicing my displeasure that negligent destruction, I do not tolerate. (He’d heard about my snit over the bicycle; what was he thinking!?) Geekiness is no excuse for being a flake! Furthermore I reminded him of the rules and regulations regarding rent. First rule being: Don’t piss Loca off! (As per Casa by law re: above) My flexibility was based on my being able to trust his word; if you say you’ll pay this much- then pay it.
Now you (and I), see what got him into this mess in the first place- No sense of financial priorities. If he has it; he spends it. (Must be nice.) I even found out the car repair he’d spent his rent check on consisted of a small hole in the gas tank, which I could have welded closed for him for nada. But nooo… he let the guy talk him into paying express shipping of a whole new one from the East Coast! Really? I asked him, so, did he want a car more than a place to live? Grrrr.
Did you know he also tried to appease me with sharing his wide selection of DVD’s? In fact, they just bought ‘The Princess and the Frog™’ …with what you ask? Which was what I thought, which led to further thoughts of shovels, pits and lye. It was for the children, JTG insisted. That’s why they had TWO jumbo-sized boxes of DVD’s and video games; for the geekkids to enjoy on their FOUR televisions. Jimmy can’t afford to pay for cheap housing, but his kids have all the latest video toys and attachments[!] <Insert thunder-struck expression here; morph to barely suppressed rage.> Ugh, in order hold back the were-bitch, I began to chant my new mantra: [~Not in front of his children… not in front of his children… children can still make good witnesses… not in front of his children… ~] Does not help that if you do pick out a DVD to watch, he’ll gleefully spoils all the plot twists, so that you’re not bothered by that pesky anticipation of enfolding drama.
He may not survive this re-LOCAtion.
Instead of getting the satisfaction of grabbing him by the ankles; swinging him over my head in circles, and shot-put style, sailing him towards San Francisco; I had to be the bearer of such bad news as the wifefriend’s next paycheck was mine! No really, the wifefriend can re-arrange my household; can take over my kitchen; and can displace all of my houseplants to the porch, because she’s got (6) geekkids, (5) geekkats and (1) full-grown geek to care for …on the one condition: that I get paid! That’s the saving grace of this pseudo-sisterhood, you can see dividends of dollars and cents.
Believe me, if I wasn’t so mad, I’d be ashamed of myself for being so scooge-y, but a Loca’s gotta do what a loca’s gotta do to keep a roof over her head too! It’s because I’m not prepared to take the final plunge of living in my car …so, sue me. No wait, I don’t have a car anymore to live in, there’s nothing left to sue me for if I lose my house. Ah-Ha! Nyeh! I do have a nice underpass picked out downtown for my cardboard box and I’ve already snagged me a ‘bag-lady’ cart. (I have! Prepare for any contingency, ‘cha know.) I figure I’ll stuff my seabag as if for a long mission and shuffle off into the homeless sunset, if it comes to that. Actually, then I will kill Jimmy the Geek because incarceration will ensure my getting three square meals a day and a warm rack to sleep in each night. Yup, that’s the plan.
Jimmy didn’t have to get insulting about it, though.
No he didn’t, not on purpose anyway. JTG didn’t even realize he’d let it slip while he was pouting about being spanked . See: he was venting by taking it out on his Ex-wife, a free-loader for sure, who’s getting most of his income in alimony. [screeeech- wait Loca, didn’t you say his geekkids lived with him? -Ed.] Yes, at last count it was six: four of his, two of hers(not counting the cats). They all do live here, (somehow we squeezed them all into two bedrooms of girls and boys), most of the time, but that they stay even one day a week with their bio-mom means by CA state law he has to pay alimony out da ass. So, Jimmy’s whining’ about that, when suddenly he says, “She’s the one who should be living in a trailer.” Wha… da… ffff…? Not realizing I’ve said that out loud, Jimmy courtesy repeats himself for me, “SHE’S the one who should be living in a trailer!”
Oh. Kay. Now, my humble, ass-saving, abode is a trailer is it? <fume>
It sucks to be the Big Sis. Really it does, I’d rather have had an entitled, emotional, enraged, episode on his ass, complete with throwing things and blunt trauma. (His, not mine) Instead, I’m bottling that up for an appropriate explosion to be announced at a later date. Don’t tell, or you’ll have to beware of bag-ladies bearing shovels!
Update: I, La Loca, have cooled down enough as evidenced by Jimmy still being alive and miraculously, still sporting both his thumbs(he needs those to work). I understand he got permission from the wifefriend to listen to me and pay up before I sold his geekkats for medical experiments (the geekkids are next). Sorry to rain on your charade Jimmy, but Big Sis owns your ass. Deal with it.
♪♫ She’s… the… one… ♪♫
That’s what he said, after I’ve;
Put up with the geekkids.
Put up with the geekkats.
Even put up with the geekklutter - (Over two weeks into The Move and they haven’t stored or arranged their stuff properly yet! There’re just mounds and mounds of geekkrap everywhere …you can’t even get through the front door …seriously.)
Never-ever should I have let Jimmy the Geek call me his ‘sister’, BIG mistake, big-big mistake. Why? Dunno how it is in your family, but in a large Latino family the youngest son (which is what JTG is) always is and forever more will be ‘the baby’, with all the perks and privileges that implies thereof. Any acceptance of family ties to Jimmy meant he could fall back into preconceived social patterns. In other words: Little Brother laid around the house and waited for kin to dote on him, unless of course, someone specifically told him to do something! …this literally meant: ten days into the first month of this living arrangement and Jimmy still hadn’t paid rent!!! D’oh! <Loca smacks forehead> Big Sis should NOT have to nag about his; he should know that’s what the wifefriend is for.
If he didn’t want to deal with family, he should have chosen the other youngest male Latino option of becoming a member of the clergy.
Speaking of which; did I ever tell ya, I corrupted a priest? That is: laid the wages of sin and exacted temptations of the flesh upon a mere mortal man? Okay, he wasn’t ordained, in fact he wasn’t exactly a ‘Padre’ at all, but a young man who had entertained the possibility of joining the priesthood in order to follow the other large family tradition of the youngest son joining the church. Well, he had decided in his own time that the Catholaholic life wasn’t for him, but it had taken him so long that he was still a virgin at 25. Loca took it as her own personal calling to cure him of that celibate condition. (One of her proudest moments.) Now, I’m either divine or damned for helping that poor man see God.
Jimmy, may just be sent to meet his maker.
Prior to moving in he’d assured me, absolutely assured me, that rent wouldn’t be a problem this month since his wifefriend had just received a big tax refund. Imagine my relief that my brief unemployment stint wasn’t going to delay MY rent payments to my own much more impatient landlord. Yea right.
First it was: ‘Sure we’ll be able to pay you, we’ll even pay you half early’
.Then it was: ‘We’ll pay you all of it on the first.’
And then: ‘We’ll pay you half on the first’
An’ den: (after the first of the month had passed): ‘After we pay for this car repair, we’ll pay you half’
Later: ‘We’ll pay you what we can next week.’
Then it got worse.
What he gave me, ten days after he’d moved in, amounted to a quarter of what we’d agreed on; half of half of what I was anticipating I could pay MY bills with.
This did not bode well for the harmony of La Casa de Loca and its inhabitants. Now, I warn people in advance, Don’t piss me off- I’m crazy; I have a gun, a spade and a bucket a lye. Think wisely. Thus far, Jimmy had me pissed off to the point I was repressing the crazy-making urges for the sake of his geekkids, what with this weak offering which was far from being fair, and into the ‘being taken advantage of’ range.
Thus with the tact of the terminally geeky, JTG had to do something stupid.
His idea of compensating for reneging on his rent, was to clean out some of the boxes of geekkrap that geekkluttered the hallway. Brilliantly, this involved blindly grabbing everything, including some of MY stuff and dumping it in the backyard …when the weatherman and I had repeatedly advised showers with a high chance of RAIN!
Talk about dampening the harmonics!
I waited for the first drops to hit the debris, because moisture in the soil makes it lighter and easier to dig a good, Jimmy-sized, pit, with more dirt moved per shovelful. You gotta figure that’s why grave-diggers always seem to be working in rainstorms in the movies? There’s gotta be a grain of truth to that: that in fact burying a body in the dry dust is harder than scooping soft soil for a final resting place.
Actually I didn’t do that, geeks are allergic to blunt objects, besides planting him didn’t guarantee he’d bear fruit.
(Barely) Withholding the brandishing of a shovel, that boy got a brow beatin’, Squad Leader style. Voicing my displeasure that negligent destruction, I do not tolerate. (He’d heard about my snit over the bicycle; what was he thinking!?) Geekiness is no excuse for being a flake! Furthermore I reminded him of the rules and regulations regarding rent. First rule being: Don’t piss Loca off! (As per Casa by law re: above) My flexibility was based on my being able to trust his word; if you say you’ll pay this much- then pay it.
Now you (and I), see what got him into this mess in the first place- No sense of financial priorities. If he has it; he spends it. (Must be nice.) I even found out the car repair he’d spent his rent check on consisted of a small hole in the gas tank, which I could have welded closed for him for nada. But nooo… he let the guy talk him into paying express shipping of a whole new one from the East Coast! Really? I asked him, so, did he want a car more than a place to live? Grrrr.
Did you know he also tried to appease me with sharing his wide selection of DVD’s? In fact, they just bought ‘The Princess and the Frog™’ …with what you ask? Which was what I thought, which led to further thoughts of shovels, pits and lye. It was for the children, JTG insisted. That’s why they had TWO jumbo-sized boxes of DVD’s and video games; for the geekkids to enjoy on their FOUR televisions. Jimmy can’t afford to pay for cheap housing, but his kids have all the latest video toys and attachments[!] <Insert thunder-struck expression here; morph to barely suppressed rage.> Ugh, in order hold back the were-bitch, I began to chant my new mantra: [~Not in front of his children… not in front of his children… children can still make good witnesses… not in front of his children… ~] Does not help that if you do pick out a DVD to watch, he’ll gleefully spoils all the plot twists, so that you’re not bothered by that pesky anticipation of enfolding drama.
He may not survive this re-LOCAtion.
Instead of getting the satisfaction of grabbing him by the ankles; swinging him over my head in circles, and shot-put style, sailing him towards San Francisco; I had to be the bearer of such bad news as the wifefriend’s next paycheck was mine! No really, the wifefriend can re-arrange my household; can take over my kitchen; and can displace all of my houseplants to the porch, because she’s got (6) geekkids, (5) geekkats and (1) full-grown geek to care for …on the one condition: that I get paid! That’s the saving grace of this pseudo-sisterhood, you can see dividends of dollars and cents.
Believe me, if I wasn’t so mad, I’d be ashamed of myself for being so scooge-y, but a Loca’s gotta do what a loca’s gotta do to keep a roof over her head too! It’s because I’m not prepared to take the final plunge of living in my car …so, sue me. No wait, I don’t have a car anymore to live in, there’s nothing left to sue me for if I lose my house. Ah-Ha! Nyeh! I do have a nice underpass picked out downtown for my cardboard box and I’ve already snagged me a ‘bag-lady’ cart. (I have! Prepare for any contingency, ‘cha know.) I figure I’ll stuff my seabag as if for a long mission and shuffle off into the homeless sunset, if it comes to that. Actually, then I will kill Jimmy the Geek because incarceration will ensure my getting three square meals a day and a warm rack to sleep in each night. Yup, that’s the plan.
Jimmy didn’t have to get insulting about it, though.
No he didn’t, not on purpose anyway. JTG didn’t even realize he’d let it slip while he was pouting about being spanked . See: he was venting by taking it out on his Ex-wife, a free-loader for sure, who’s getting most of his income in alimony. [screeeech- wait Loca, didn’t you say his geekkids lived with him? -Ed.] Yes, at last count it was six: four of his, two of hers(not counting the cats). They all do live here, (somehow we squeezed them all into two bedrooms of girls and boys), most of the time, but that they stay even one day a week with their bio-mom means by CA state law he has to pay alimony out da ass. So, Jimmy’s whining’ about that, when suddenly he says, “She’s the one who should be living in a trailer.” Wha… da… ffff…? Not realizing I’ve said that out loud, Jimmy courtesy repeats himself for me, “SHE’S the one who should be living in a trailer!”
Oh. Kay. Now, my humble, ass-saving, abode is a trailer is it? <fume>
It sucks to be the Big Sis. Really it does, I’d rather have had an entitled, emotional, enraged, episode on his ass, complete with throwing things and blunt trauma. (His, not mine) Instead, I’m bottling that up for an appropriate explosion to be announced at a later date. Don’t tell, or you’ll have to beware of bag-ladies bearing shovels!
Update: I, La Loca, have cooled down enough as evidenced by Jimmy still being alive and miraculously, still sporting both his thumbs(he needs those to work). I understand he got permission from the wifefriend to listen to me and pay up before I sold his geekkats for medical experiments (the geekkids are next). Sorry to rain on your charade Jimmy, but Big Sis owns your ass. Deal with it.
Re: With Friends like These cont.
I think the term these days is: Hoarder.
People who have too much stuff = Hoarders.
They call themselves: ‘collectors’ as in comic and movie memorabilia aficionados …but it’s all Jimmy the Geekkrap to me. Philatelics are collectors. Entomologists are collectors…
JTG & Wifefriend have got toys and disks and games galore; which they accumulate and acquire; then neglect and ignore. Sad, but true, I’ve seen them do it before: fill up a house, then not stay anymore. Moving out, they start over and ‘collect’ some more! A coupla boxes already fill the driveway; where abandoned the collection will mold and decay, before Jimmy will decide to throw them away. ….SeZ Fox in Socks on bricks and blocks, all this crap gives me the knocks.
.
My stuff I took out of the way into (1) one small cheap storage unit and I’m good. Jimmy, Wifefriend and Co. have a BIG storage unit; cargo all over the house; and geekkrap spilling into the carport and backyard. The shear size of the geekklump drew the attention of the park managers. [Yikes!] While I have a good relationship with my landlords, they had to hint that such ‘Urban Squalor’ (real legal term for ‘Too-Much-Hoarding’!) better be temporary. I even had well meaning Fellow Park members come forth and offer their trucks for hire to haul the hoard away.
I so wish this was a joke but it really happened. If my humble domical wasn’t a trailer before, Jimmy is sure trying to treat it like one. That boy, doesn’t listen.
I told him as I tell everybody: “It’s not a trailer park – it’s a mobile home community!” (Neighborhood SWAT raids none-withstanding)
Other than that; my fellow neighbors like him and have given JTG the Double Wide Stamp of Approval. Surprisingly, even my neat-freak, next door neighbor likes him a lot! I think he likes there being a ‘Man of the House’ (such as he is) that ensures the proper amount of testosterone per household. Now, there was a bona fide Alpha Male in residence, regardless that he was subordinate to the Alpha Female [me!] … he was a guy my neighbor could talk to about guy stuff. Sure, he could talk to me about the same stuff but then it wouldn’t be guy stuff. He’s still very respectfully to me by calling me ‘Mister’ since I am, if not a guy, then at least the Head of my House.
See: My next door neighbor is a fine old fashioned gentleman of pride and protocol; a Vietnam Vet in fact Yes, he fought in The War however not as an American; he was fighting before the Americans even got there. He was Viet Nam- ‘Viet’ translated from the Vietnamese, meaning ‘place’ and ‘Nam’ meaning his people. Translation: ‘Of Nam Place’ – he was of Nam Place
…and Mr. Nyguen was doing well here. He and his wife had good money; could live in a nice home and could raise their kids in safety and security. He was so proud, in fact when he moved in, that a manufactured home could be as big and impressive as a real house. Mr. Nyguen’s done nothing but maintain and improve his home of Viet America, in that he’s been a wonderful neighbor ever since.
Jimmy could learn from him ...and he may get a chance to.
When he first met Jimmy, Mr. Nyguen was so happy he commented in his accented English, ‘We Asians have to stick together!’ …then mentioned something about low-lifers being forcibly evicted from the neighborhood by paramilitary police. (Ooops, I hadn’t wanted the new roomies to know about that, didn’t want to freak them out!) I’d wondered what Mr. Nyguen had thought of that SWAT Raid; was it disconcerting, even frightening to a man who’d spent years in a political prison before he could escape to the West? Was he relived to be considered such a good capitalist, that those shock troops hadn’t come for him, that time? Seems so, since then Mr. Nyguen has spent much of his retirement busily beatifying his home and engaging his neighbors. ‘We stick together’ is also his affirmation that, ‘I’m one of you!’.
What the wifefriend sees in Jimmy I dunno, usually a gal in her situation latches onto a guy for his money and/or good job, or his …skills in other areas. She did say her ex-husband was also ‘packrat’ (another word for hoarder) So, I guess she likes him for his Stuff! Whatever it is they make it work somehow- ♪ Looks like Packrat Love. ♫
You may be wondering, or not, as to why I haven’t given the wifefriend a clever nick by now? “Wifefriend’ is clever enough already, and I think it’ll catch on as a colloquialism, not as long-winded as ‘My Baby’s Mama’, but it gets the point across. Remember: you heard it first, here on your LOCA News Channel!
Now, if only the white-trash wifefriend could work a window.
OMG Seriously, she seems paranoid of them- Spring temps are rising and I came home to the trailer mobile home turned into a giant toaster at 80° [!] according to the thermostat …with every window in the place sealed tight. As you may recall, I have no AC since I never thought I’d need it, seeing as how I know how to let a breeze naturally cool the interior. So, I’ve tried explaining with diagrams, slides and finger puppets:
Leave the ventilation fan on at night to blow in cool air.
Then turn it off after 10am because otherwise it will draw in hot air from the roof. Turn it off and open the windows to the east, during the day and the house will stay cool and comfortable.
Do they listen to this sage advice? Of course not, they leave the vent fan on all day, like it’s the air conditioning; letting it suck in hot air to the point of stifling. Then they(she) refuses to open the windows; her rational being… it will let in bugs. Huh? That’s why they have screens- OK, granted one is missing a screen, but there were FOUR other windows in the living room she could have easily opened. …or more in the kitchen …or in the bedrooms. Instead, she’d rather bake in a king-sized convection oven!?
She’s convinced contact with the outside world will let in countless contagions which will contaminate her collections!
This belief is so powerful some of the windows are completely blocked by boxes of geekkrap; as was the front door until I cleared a path to it. I should have left it barricaded for security reasons, since they also don’t seem to understand the concept of locking a door behind them <sigh> ...but that’s another tirade.
People who have too much stuff = Hoarders.
They call themselves: ‘collectors’ as in comic and movie memorabilia aficionados …but it’s all Jimmy the Geekkrap to me. Philatelics are collectors. Entomologists are collectors…
JTG & Wifefriend have got toys and disks and games galore; which they accumulate and acquire; then neglect and ignore. Sad, but true, I’ve seen them do it before: fill up a house, then not stay anymore. Moving out, they start over and ‘collect’ some more! A coupla boxes already fill the driveway; where abandoned the collection will mold and decay, before Jimmy will decide to throw them away. ….SeZ Fox in Socks on bricks and blocks, all this crap gives me the knocks.
.
My stuff I took out of the way into (1) one small cheap storage unit and I’m good. Jimmy, Wifefriend and Co. have a BIG storage unit; cargo all over the house; and geekkrap spilling into the carport and backyard. The shear size of the geekklump drew the attention of the park managers. [Yikes!] While I have a good relationship with my landlords, they had to hint that such ‘Urban Squalor’ (real legal term for ‘Too-Much-Hoarding’!) better be temporary. I even had well meaning Fellow Park members come forth and offer their trucks for hire to haul the hoard away.
I so wish this was a joke but it really happened. If my humble domical wasn’t a trailer before, Jimmy is sure trying to treat it like one. That boy, doesn’t listen.
I told him as I tell everybody: “It’s not a trailer park – it’s a mobile home community!” (Neighborhood SWAT raids none-withstanding)
Other than that; my fellow neighbors like him and have given JTG the Double Wide Stamp of Approval. Surprisingly, even my neat-freak, next door neighbor likes him a lot! I think he likes there being a ‘Man of the House’ (such as he is) that ensures the proper amount of testosterone per household. Now, there was a bona fide Alpha Male in residence, regardless that he was subordinate to the Alpha Female [me!] … he was a guy my neighbor could talk to about guy stuff. Sure, he could talk to me about the same stuff but then it wouldn’t be guy stuff. He’s still very respectfully to me by calling me ‘Mister’ since I am, if not a guy, then at least the Head of my House.
See: My next door neighbor is a fine old fashioned gentleman of pride and protocol; a Vietnam Vet in fact Yes, he fought in The War however not as an American; he was fighting before the Americans even got there. He was Viet Nam- ‘Viet’ translated from the Vietnamese, meaning ‘place’ and ‘Nam’ meaning his people. Translation: ‘Of Nam Place’ – he was of Nam Place
…and Mr. Nyguen was doing well here. He and his wife had good money; could live in a nice home and could raise their kids in safety and security. He was so proud, in fact when he moved in, that a manufactured home could be as big and impressive as a real house. Mr. Nyguen’s done nothing but maintain and improve his home of Viet America, in that he’s been a wonderful neighbor ever since.
Jimmy could learn from him ...and he may get a chance to.
When he first met Jimmy, Mr. Nyguen was so happy he commented in his accented English, ‘We Asians have to stick together!’ …then mentioned something about low-lifers being forcibly evicted from the neighborhood by paramilitary police. (Ooops, I hadn’t wanted the new roomies to know about that, didn’t want to freak them out!) I’d wondered what Mr. Nyguen had thought of that SWAT Raid; was it disconcerting, even frightening to a man who’d spent years in a political prison before he could escape to the West? Was he relived to be considered such a good capitalist, that those shock troops hadn’t come for him, that time? Seems so, since then Mr. Nyguen has spent much of his retirement busily beatifying his home and engaging his neighbors. ‘We stick together’ is also his affirmation that, ‘I’m one of you!’.
What the wifefriend sees in Jimmy I dunno, usually a gal in her situation latches onto a guy for his money and/or good job, or his …skills in other areas. She did say her ex-husband was also ‘packrat’ (another word for hoarder) So, I guess she likes him for his Stuff! Whatever it is they make it work somehow- ♪ Looks like Packrat Love. ♫
You may be wondering, or not, as to why I haven’t given the wifefriend a clever nick by now? “Wifefriend’ is clever enough already, and I think it’ll catch on as a colloquialism, not as long-winded as ‘My Baby’s Mama’, but it gets the point across. Remember: you heard it first, here on your LOCA News Channel!
Now, if only the white-trash wifefriend could work a window.
OMG Seriously, she seems paranoid of them- Spring temps are rising and I came home to the trailer mobile home turned into a giant toaster at 80° [!] according to the thermostat …with every window in the place sealed tight. As you may recall, I have no AC since I never thought I’d need it, seeing as how I know how to let a breeze naturally cool the interior. So, I’ve tried explaining with diagrams, slides and finger puppets:
Leave the ventilation fan on at night to blow in cool air.
Then turn it off after 10am because otherwise it will draw in hot air from the roof. Turn it off and open the windows to the east, during the day and the house will stay cool and comfortable.
Do they listen to this sage advice? Of course not, they leave the vent fan on all day, like it’s the air conditioning; letting it suck in hot air to the point of stifling. Then they(she) refuses to open the windows; her rational being… it will let in bugs. Huh? That’s why they have screens- OK, granted one is missing a screen, but there were FOUR other windows in the living room she could have easily opened. …or more in the kitchen …or in the bedrooms. Instead, she’d rather bake in a king-sized convection oven!?
She’s convinced contact with the outside world will let in countless contagions which will contaminate her collections!
This belief is so powerful some of the windows are completely blocked by boxes of geekkrap; as was the front door until I cleared a path to it. I should have left it barricaded for security reasons, since they also don’t seem to understand the concept of locking a door behind them <sigh> ...but that’s another tirade.
Re: With Friends like These cont.
Well! Jimmy’s going and trying to get himself fired from the Hormone Depot!
Not as spectacular, tabloid sensational as getting yourself arrested like Shutterbug Sanchez did! Jimmy is just being an annoyance as per usual; but Sanchez made the papers by being a public pervert! Solo you know, Sanchez don’t go for sex in sanitation stalls like some. No, he was secretly spying on stripping singles, and worse still, Sanchez was snapping shots! Clicking pix of nekkid chicks for the kicks! …in the nearby Target™ Store dressing room.
They were quick to pick him up on peeping tom charges and to the slammer he went, where he had no say about missing his shift the next day. However, phoning in abducted wasn’t flying after day three, besides as stated, Sanchez’s story was splashed in the local section. While it wasn’t ‘work-related’, I’m thinking he was fired for being an embarrassment to the Co.
Now, I suppose the Inc.’Pot has a right to do this… Welding is a different world. Dealing with your workers being deported or carted off to jail, is just one of the hazards of the biz. It’s retail that gets their panties in a twist about it.
Jimmy is doing his geeky best though, to get them to terminate him. … I’m so proud! I think I’ve finally managed to beat some work ethic in him!
It was because I was tired of being ticked off that yet again, he hadn’t done his agreed upon household duties. He’d try to tell me he’d been ‘side-tracked’ when I knew he’d spent two days of sitting on his butt watching movies, WAITING to get side-tracked. Normally, I can’t stop guys from wanting to do things around the house; I thought tinkering and tool-using was genetic to human males?
The last straw was that this ‘side-tracking’ was significantly affecting his job-hunting for better work. While he claimed to be looking for a higher paying job, he would do stuff like let his phone get turned off, and NOT call the job placement agency to check in from another phone like a payphone, not even from MY phone. [!?]
I don’t understand this: if he insists on being a Geek, then why doesn’t he want to get paid for it!?
The side-tracking became completely unacceptable when he didn’t return a call the agency had made about a job opening, despite the fact that his phone was back to functioning.
Furious, I charged up the cattle prod and was forced to use electro-shock therapy and shaming, Abu Ghraib style. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry for the past; tell me you’re going to do something about the future!” ~*ZzzzzaaaaAAAPPPP*~
“I’m sorry!!!”
“Don’t be sorry; Do Something!!!”
..at last he did.
Jimmy made the call; got the interview and got the job. Whew, luckily before I had to get nasty and leave permanent damage. He’s even trying to hustle both jobs at once, which is admirable for Jimmy ‘wait-for-life-to-come-me’ th’Geek. Understandably though, he’s giving time priority to the geeky job of bigger bucks.
Hormone Depot tried to butter him up with praise and flowery talk, but what they won’t do is give him a raise, which made this decision that much easier. That, and Landlady Loca has the charger hooked up to a fresh car battery, which can be wired to acupuncture needles. I’m kinda hoping I get to test this out; will it energize his aura or fry his synapses? Tough call.
So, the clock is ticking on the days he’s missing. Fangora, the store manager has never had someone she didn’t already have by the short hairs; write-ups mean nothing to Jimmy now.
All-in-all this has been quite the empowering experience!
Not as spectacular, tabloid sensational as getting yourself arrested like Shutterbug Sanchez did! Jimmy is just being an annoyance as per usual; but Sanchez made the papers by being a public pervert! Solo you know, Sanchez don’t go for sex in sanitation stalls like some. No, he was secretly spying on stripping singles, and worse still, Sanchez was snapping shots! Clicking pix of nekkid chicks for the kicks! …in the nearby Target™ Store dressing room.
They were quick to pick him up on peeping tom charges and to the slammer he went, where he had no say about missing his shift the next day. However, phoning in abducted wasn’t flying after day three, besides as stated, Sanchez’s story was splashed in the local section. While it wasn’t ‘work-related’, I’m thinking he was fired for being an embarrassment to the Co.
Now, I suppose the Inc.’Pot has a right to do this… Welding is a different world. Dealing with your workers being deported or carted off to jail, is just one of the hazards of the biz. It’s retail that gets their panties in a twist about it.
Jimmy is doing his geeky best though, to get them to terminate him. … I’m so proud! I think I’ve finally managed to beat some work ethic in him!
It was because I was tired of being ticked off that yet again, he hadn’t done his agreed upon household duties. He’d try to tell me he’d been ‘side-tracked’ when I knew he’d spent two days of sitting on his butt watching movies, WAITING to get side-tracked. Normally, I can’t stop guys from wanting to do things around the house; I thought tinkering and tool-using was genetic to human males?
The last straw was that this ‘side-tracking’ was significantly affecting his job-hunting for better work. While he claimed to be looking for a higher paying job, he would do stuff like let his phone get turned off, and NOT call the job placement agency to check in from another phone like a payphone, not even from MY phone. [!?]
I don’t understand this: if he insists on being a Geek, then why doesn’t he want to get paid for it!?
The side-tracking became completely unacceptable when he didn’t return a call the agency had made about a job opening, despite the fact that his phone was back to functioning.
Furious, I charged up the cattle prod and was forced to use electro-shock therapy and shaming, Abu Ghraib style. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry for the past; tell me you’re going to do something about the future!” ~*ZzzzzaaaaAAAPPPP*~
“I’m sorry!!!”
“Don’t be sorry; Do Something!!!”
..at last he did.
Jimmy made the call; got the interview and got the job. Whew, luckily before I had to get nasty and leave permanent damage. He’s even trying to hustle both jobs at once, which is admirable for Jimmy ‘wait-for-life-to-come-me’ th’Geek. Understandably though, he’s giving time priority to the geeky job of bigger bucks.
Hormone Depot tried to butter him up with praise and flowery talk, but what they won’t do is give him a raise, which made this decision that much easier. That, and Landlady Loca has the charger hooked up to a fresh car battery, which can be wired to acupuncture needles. I’m kinda hoping I get to test this out; will it energize his aura or fry his synapses? Tough call.
So, the clock is ticking on the days he’s missing. Fangora, the store manager has never had someone she didn’t already have by the short hairs; write-ups mean nothing to Jimmy now.
All-in-all this has been quite the empowering experience!
Re: With Friends like These cont.
So as not to hijack Crackpot’s thread;
So, I went to Home Depot
So, WE went to Home Depot, Jimmy th’Geek and I- our co-habitation isn’t all about my cracking the whip at his heels. He and I are both Seabees; certainly I want to do my fair share of work around the the house and not just be an enforcer. Recently, JTG made a valiant effort at wiring the place for internet access in every room, after I’d called Comcast to re-instate the service …which didn’t work, even with a router. [Boo!] But at least he’d made the effort. (Now, I just have the net in my room. We'd arm wrestled for it, and I won by clocking him with an ashtray, so it’s mine!)
He’d braved his claustro and arachnophobia to crawl around under the house to do so too. Well, all of five feet under, then he had to turn around and get back out, so I helped him run the wiring, then the geeky stuff was up to him. That seems to be the way to get his butt in gear; don’t just assign him projects; lead by example then he joins in. Like I said I had thought home improvement was in the male genes, I had also gotten that impression when JTG first moved in because he was always saying, ‘We can fix that… We can fix that…’ ‘We…’ Oh!
Seems I had totally ignored my own observation that JTG is a hyper-social creature and doing things alone is a heinous faux pas in his mind.
Now that I’ve got that social conditioning figured out, it’s working out well with the leveling and repairing of the porch. If anyone cares to recall, a few moons ago the large tree in front of my mobile home had lifted the porch and concrete pathway with its roots, by about three inches. It only took A FORKING’ YEAR for the park management to send out the maintenance team to dig out the root and repave the walkway ...but they neglected to do anything about the raised spot on the porch, claiming that that was my property and they didn’t have to do anything about it.
Well, I’d been putting that off, and putting that off, because it just looked funny but the porch still worked. So, I didn’t pay it no mind.
Comes the springtime; with wear, weathering and more walking across it, and I notice one of the porch steps is loose. Upon closer inspection, the stairs are all pretty water-damaged from the winter rains, some to the point of bowing and splintering. So much so, this could be a safety issue; the 300lbs. wifefriend could crack through these steps and guess who would be liable? This is a pretty good project for JTG, I think, she’s his wifefriend!
Now, I’d thought that about a month ago, and so far Jimmy had only bought some new planks and left them under the carport. Thus so, I tried my new approach and suggested,
‘Hey, I have the time this weekend, let’s tear the porch apart!’ Jimmy had had enough of the stick and was happy for the carrot; and it was off to Home Depot we went.
The timing couldn’t have been better, there was a mobile home a few spaces down that had suddenly become abandoned and the maintenance crew had set up a jumbo-sized dumpster for the gutting and refurbishing of the place. We took advantage of that and completely ripped out the old stairs and surreptitiously tossed them in said dumpster in the middle of the night. [Shhh, don’t tell!]
The rest was trying to be trial and error carpenters from a welder and geek perspective.
No, nothing spontaneously burst in flames, but it’s a wonder nothing did.
The demolition was the easy part; we watched Cletus, my neighbor, really go to town on that… Yep, Cletus helped out too; nothing draws a crowd like crowd. It couldn’t be helped, but he was a big help. He’s been a grunt laborer his whole life, which has put callouses on his callouses; meaning, he didn’t have to put on gloves for any of this hard work. When he saw us staging tools and lumber out on the lawn, the neanderthal in him instinctively came over and started tool-using. Ooo-ooo! See? I knew it was in the genes! (Not to sound ungrateful, or condescending, ya know. Cletus likes to kid he’s a caveman; every Halloween he dresses up as one- it’s his favorite party costume.)
So, we had the brawn, the brain and the beauty, plus for a change we had the bucks! It was the perfect storm.
Turns out the original installers of the mobile home had kinda kludged together the front porch in the first place, and we somehow managed to inprove upon it. For me, the best part was getting the tilt taken care of. The root had raised ONE post that had caddywhompused the whole porch. Rather than remove that post entirely, I braced the rest of the structure then skil-sawed out a section; right in the middle:
~niiiiiie-owwwww~ ~niiiiiie-owwwww~ <sound of circular saw>
Then the shorten post just had to be hammered together to level out the rest of the porch: huzzah!
Loca rocks!
Adding some proper mid-support to the steps to make it super solid, and all we have to do now is weather seal it. …and now that I’ve got JTG trained, it’s on to the next project, Woo-Hoo!!!
So, I went to Home Depot
So, WE went to Home Depot, Jimmy th’Geek and I- our co-habitation isn’t all about my cracking the whip at his heels. He and I are both Seabees; certainly I want to do my fair share of work around the the house and not just be an enforcer. Recently, JTG made a valiant effort at wiring the place for internet access in every room, after I’d called Comcast to re-instate the service …which didn’t work, even with a router. [Boo!] But at least he’d made the effort. (Now, I just have the net in my room. We'd arm wrestled for it, and I won by clocking him with an ashtray, so it’s mine!)
He’d braved his claustro and arachnophobia to crawl around under the house to do so too. Well, all of five feet under, then he had to turn around and get back out, so I helped him run the wiring, then the geeky stuff was up to him. That seems to be the way to get his butt in gear; don’t just assign him projects; lead by example then he joins in. Like I said I had thought home improvement was in the male genes, I had also gotten that impression when JTG first moved in because he was always saying, ‘We can fix that… We can fix that…’ ‘We…’ Oh!
Seems I had totally ignored my own observation that JTG is a hyper-social creature and doing things alone is a heinous faux pas in his mind.
Now that I’ve got that social conditioning figured out, it’s working out well with the leveling and repairing of the porch. If anyone cares to recall, a few moons ago the large tree in front of my mobile home had lifted the porch and concrete pathway with its roots, by about three inches. It only took A FORKING’ YEAR for the park management to send out the maintenance team to dig out the root and repave the walkway ...but they neglected to do anything about the raised spot on the porch, claiming that that was my property and they didn’t have to do anything about it.
Well, I’d been putting that off, and putting that off, because it just looked funny but the porch still worked. So, I didn’t pay it no mind.
Comes the springtime; with wear, weathering and more walking across it, and I notice one of the porch steps is loose. Upon closer inspection, the stairs are all pretty water-damaged from the winter rains, some to the point of bowing and splintering. So much so, this could be a safety issue; the 300lbs. wifefriend could crack through these steps and guess who would be liable? This is a pretty good project for JTG, I think, she’s his wifefriend!
Now, I’d thought that about a month ago, and so far Jimmy had only bought some new planks and left them under the carport. Thus so, I tried my new approach and suggested,
‘Hey, I have the time this weekend, let’s tear the porch apart!’ Jimmy had had enough of the stick and was happy for the carrot; and it was off to Home Depot we went.
The timing couldn’t have been better, there was a mobile home a few spaces down that had suddenly become abandoned and the maintenance crew had set up a jumbo-sized dumpster for the gutting and refurbishing of the place. We took advantage of that and completely ripped out the old stairs and surreptitiously tossed them in said dumpster in the middle of the night. [Shhh, don’t tell!]
The rest was trying to be trial and error carpenters from a welder and geek perspective.
No, nothing spontaneously burst in flames, but it’s a wonder nothing did.
The demolition was the easy part; we watched Cletus, my neighbor, really go to town on that… Yep, Cletus helped out too; nothing draws a crowd like crowd. It couldn’t be helped, but he was a big help. He’s been a grunt laborer his whole life, which has put callouses on his callouses; meaning, he didn’t have to put on gloves for any of this hard work. When he saw us staging tools and lumber out on the lawn, the neanderthal in him instinctively came over and started tool-using. Ooo-ooo! See? I knew it was in the genes! (Not to sound ungrateful, or condescending, ya know. Cletus likes to kid he’s a caveman; every Halloween he dresses up as one- it’s his favorite party costume.)
So, we had the brawn, the brain and the beauty, plus for a change we had the bucks! It was the perfect storm.
Turns out the original installers of the mobile home had kinda kludged together the front porch in the first place, and we somehow managed to inprove upon it. For me, the best part was getting the tilt taken care of. The root had raised ONE post that had caddywhompused the whole porch. Rather than remove that post entirely, I braced the rest of the structure then skil-sawed out a section; right in the middle:
~niiiiiie-owwwww~ ~niiiiiie-owwwww~ <sound of circular saw>
Then the shorten post just had to be hammered together to level out the rest of the porch: huzzah!
Loca rocks!
Adding some proper mid-support to the steps to make it super solid, and all we have to do now is weather seal it. …and now that I’ve got JTG trained, it’s on to the next project, Woo-Hoo!!!
Re: With Friends like These cont.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!
I thought I’d just post that, but it lacked something truly funny. Well, it’s funny like seeing someone stub their toe, but left too much mystery to make it real comedy. Such as it is I've been tweaking this enough, and it just keeps getting longer.
Enjoy it, even if I don't....
So, too explain;
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! I DID IT!
Turn me in! Call the cops! I'm guilty! GUILTY! I couldn’t take it anymore; call an APB on me, and get a warrant for my arrest. I’m NOT kidding; I’ve had it and just snapped! I AM the Prime Suspect and Most Wanted. Be on the look-out for Loca! She’s at large with hostile intent, be advised.
Armed and dangerously cute! Perp is known to carry a large chip and sharp tongue, use caution in apprehending.
My actions were justified; it was self-defense of home and property, by mercy killing of a moron.
Some people are just TSTL Too Stupid to Live; a real medical condition according to Urban Dictionary;
His TSTL symptoms are as follows:
While he’d had his car worked on, it was still profusely leaking oil. This was making an ugly stain on the driveway so, I finally announced ‘Get an oil pan’. JTG countered (he always counters, Geeks always have to think they’re right, righter than you) that he could just put down some cat litter. OK, lawd knows there’s plenty of cat litter round here, just do it. Days later, after my insistence, he didn’t just sprinkle some cat litter, but bought some of that expensive ‘oil-dryer’ sand, which looks and acts remarkably just like cat-litter.
While I’ve gotten him trained to take the trash cans down to the curb weekly, he somehow neglected to notice the instructions on the biggest lid of the bins, that says ‘Space your cans, so the mechanical claw can reach round to pick up your trash.’
Which he didn’t do.
So, the trash wasn’t picked up, and he just let the overloaded can trickle trash onto the curb. This is not normal for anyone with two brain cells to rub together. I had to leave an explicit message to READ the spacing instructions, and Pick up the spilled trash! This is a mobile home park, not a third-world country; we pick up after ourselves here!
While we had worked on the porch, two weeks later it still wasn’t finished because Jim th’geek was ‘too busy’. Angered and annoyed, I ORDERED him to get it done. So he counters stupid/smartly; he’ll buy a ‘wood blade’ for the Dremel Multi Max at Hormone Depot to get the right fit around the rail posts. The next week after that, he would buy the Dremel tool outright. [!?]
(This is where I frustrate geeks like Jimmy and my Ex to no end with my logic)
“If you buy the Dremel Mulit Max KIT, it has a ‘wood blade’ already in it, and you save money… “ BUT!
If you’re late on your rent; why are you buying new tools anyway!?
Have Garth the Goth, Redneck, Jew in Hardware markdown a wood blade for ‘store use’; take the boards in, on your work shift and get them cut for FREE.
I’ve never seen Jimmy so disgruntle. He did as I said, hating all the while that I was right. Hey, being right is not a crime, but deliberately exposing people to TSTL should be!
He is productive in one area; he produces a lot of cats! He and his ex-wife both love kittens so much that they have to keep a constant supply coming, or else they’ll go out and adopt, aquire or steal some. For some reason, they thought I would just love that hobby of theirs. Not! On a quick stop by her house, they brought out all her cats to show me like they were prize bowling trophies. The loving cup, I have to admit, was a darling, tiny, tabby with blue eyes and tiger stripes, that Jimmy insisted I hold. He was a warm, fuzzy, cutie but suddenly JTG started explaining this was just a foster kitty, that they needed to find a home for and… uh-oh! I handed the kitten back, like it was hazardous waste. I don’t hate cats, but I’m not a cat person. Cat5 was all I needed to remind me of that!
Lastly, after trying and trying and trying, to get Jimmy the Geek to clean up his GeekKrap in the Karport for three months now; I’d had it. At the end of my rope,
I was at a complete loss. Was I just going to have to submit to the shame of my shelter being reduced to shanty squalor?
I’ve tried everything humanly possible sans voodoo brainwashing to roust him, but I haven’t ruled it out completely. Animated zombies can still bring in a paycheck, right? Sadly, The Instruments of Torture Inspiration hadn’t been very effective. The car battery and needles made him twitch like a frog’s leg, but all it got me was gibbering of lame promises. Lame promises he’s good at.
I’ve gotten assurances that(and these are real things he’s said): he’ll clean up the house; he’ll fix my bike; he’ll plant a garden; he’ll build a deck; he’ll buy his wifefriend a new car; he’ll buy me a new car and he’ll buy the wifefriend a new house, etc.
He can’t motivate himself to take his aluminum cans to the recycling to the center without my prodding him, but still he has these grandiose visions. The poor boy’s so afflicted with TSTL he’s hallucinating. His case is terminal. Terminal in that, it’s going to get him killed, probably by my hand.
I could put a hard hint like giving ‘vacuum bags’ as a gift, those bags that are supposed to save space by sucking the air out of clothes and fabrics? ….with a note of encouragement that said “these will fit well UNDER the house.” …and not only did he not use them in a timely manner, but when I insisted he do so (since he hadn’t paid rent in full yet [and he still hasn’t]) he packed them full of WET laundry, without suctioning the air from them …and left them in the carport.
Com’on I’m not a complete bitch; …say only 45% bitch or so, that I even tried to be supportive and nice to the wifefriend. Since we’ve all had to rely on the laundromat, I asked to her pick out a nice washer/dryer; then I would cover the cost and we’d all live happily ever after in laundryland …but can they even do that? Nooooo, she’d rather roll out the quarters every week. Just how hard is it to make a decision, folks?
Jimmy’s even infecting his Geek Kids with TSTL. The other day, I tried to enlisted his eldest son in some landscaping maintenance. Pulling Jimmy Jr. away from the Play Station™, I gave him the simplest job of all: mowing the lawn. Granted, I don’t have a lawn mower, my grass lawn is more of a grass patch, so I handed over the weed whacker I usually use for this task. Reasonably sure this wasn’t going to result in mass casualties, I left him to his labors. … Only to check up on him, and find him chopping at the grass with the weed whacker held vertically like an axe. This is not a bad sight gag, this really happened. Oh, the horror- a High School teenager who’s never learned how to use a weed whacker.
This isn’t being ‘Big Sis’, this is being ‘Mom’ to those who should be fully functional human beings by now.
When I saw Jimmy the Geek’s teamwork as a Seabee and what I’d heard about his work habits on the job; made me think he was a hard-working, team-playing, go-getter, who’d just gotten down on his luck. With a work team to follow, he’s one of those old wind-up toys, with someone behind him turning his key, he’ll go-go-go. However, when his spring runs down, he won’t wind himself up. Not an energizer bunny, like me! No! He’s just stupid! Plain and simple; stupid-stupid-stupid.
Did I say he was honest, reliable and trustworthy? I did? I was wrong.
Honest? Yes, he will honestly tell you what you want to hear –damn the facts!
Reliable? Yeah, to whoever nabs him first. He’ll work hard right until the next person asks something of him, then he’s off and you’re forgotten.
Trustworthy? Uh, yea, you can trust him to WANT to do it, but making it happen is up to you to orchestrate, implement and boot him in the ass; and keep booting him, like his cats, or else it won’t get done.
This doubles the frustration of his not meeting his rent payment fully again this month! Yes, again! Chingo! As of right now, I’ve only gotten half of it.
I’m not deaf to his plight, I know he’s working at two jobs to bring in more income. Where that’s all going isn’t necessarily my business, he could have a $100 a day coke habit and a beanie baby addiction for all I know, but I can say I’m not happy that it’s not going towards rent. At the very least, he could have ‘worked for rent’ instead he pouts that he’s too busy, too side-tracked …and then he goes and visits his brother, instead of doing his chores.
You see the compounding signals of TSTL?
JTG liestells me things are getting better, when what he’s doing is leeching off rent money to pay other bills. To that, I’ve told him directly:Your financial plan sucks! Get help! Granted, I’ve done stuff like that to get by this past year myself, but not to a good friend that I didn’t try to repay somehow! Work , trade or barter; what I didn’t do was mooch.
Enough was enough, at this I snapped, and alerted the authorities to my actions.
No really, I did.
He doesn’t know it was me. (Don’t tell him or I’ll dishonor your ancestors) There’s two things he doesn’t know that I’ve done for him, good and bad;
The good one was- as a permanent employee of a metal manufacturing company, I get a Life Insurance policy. Meaning if I kick the bucket, they’ll pay my next of kin for the inconvenience. Well, seeing as I have no spouse nor dependents, I’ve signed the insurance payment over to JTG. Hey, my real family are fine; bro & sis are doing good, even if we never talk so, I figured if anyone needed the money it was Jimmy. He could just stay in this house and not worry about pissing off his landladyloca anymore.
The other thing was: reporting myself, well my mobile home space. I’d told Jimmy that the park has standards and regulations of maintenance… Well, I figured since he wasn’t listening to me, he’d listen to the management and so, I REQUESTED a notice of policy violation to this residence. Understand: they’re really good folks. I’ve paid my rent late before; they worked with me because I kept in contact and never let it go past thirty days. But complete flaking, I’ve never done. They even let this GeekKrap mess pass for 90 days now without comment. So, as a good tenant of the Mobile Home Community …I narced on Jimmy.
The nasty-gram arrived yesterday. ~Whew~ I thought they’d just threaten us with park rules. We got a full EVICTION notice, with pictures documenting the offending offal (yeah, it’s that bad!) if it’s not cleaned up. We have 14 days: if by this weekend he doesn’t do something about it, I’m renting a U-haul and taking it to the dump. At least, then I can do that guilt-free, not like he didn’t know.
Oh shit! He doesn’t know! This dude’s got denial down to a science. The notice arrived Saturday and I texted JTG at work and told him to look at the letter which I left on the communal bulletin board in the hall. On my out this morning for errands, I glanced at the board for any news for me… and the letter was still there, unopened.
All I can say is he’s in for a shock when he sees all his shits gone next weekend.
I thought I’d just post that, but it lacked something truly funny. Well, it’s funny like seeing someone stub their toe, but left too much mystery to make it real comedy. Such as it is I've been tweaking this enough, and it just keeps getting longer.
Enjoy it, even if I don't....So, too explain;
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! I DID IT!
Turn me in! Call the cops! I'm guilty! GUILTY! I couldn’t take it anymore; call an APB on me, and get a warrant for my arrest. I’m NOT kidding; I’ve had it and just snapped! I AM the Prime Suspect and Most Wanted. Be on the look-out for Loca! She’s at large with hostile intent, be advised.
Armed and dangerously cute! Perp is known to carry a large chip and sharp tongue, use caution in apprehending.
My actions were justified; it was self-defense of home and property, by mercy killing of a moron.
Some people are just TSTL Too Stupid to Live; a real medical condition according to Urban Dictionary;
I’m shocked; shocked I tell you, to discover Jimmy has this affliction, but there’s no dening it any longer the signs are too great. I was forced to come to the conclusion that JTG is not only Geeky, but worse, has a severe case of TSTL.1. Too Stupid To Live
This is a mental and social disorder where by an individual is deemed to be an unproductive member of society because s/he lacks the mental aptitude, social skills and general zest necessary to do so.
***Symptoms*** *extremely lazy *complains excessively *thinks s/he has a musical talent but is really tone deaf *expects others to make meals for him *expects HIS dishes to magically to wash themselves *will attend school for a major that will not get him/her far in life (ex. such as drama), yet will complain how expensive and difficult school is *too lazy to seek out employment but will complain how much debt s/he has acquired *when s/he is given a job, s/he is content to work for free *typically lives in filth, and has horrible personal hygiene *leaves pubic hair ALL over the bathroom *unable to urinate w/o covering the toilet seat with urine *uses a complete roll of toilet paper every day *usually dates fat psychotic bitches with emotional problems that he met online *likes to complain how he's way too busy,yet he manages to spend 2 hours on the phone talking to his fat psychotic bitch of g/f
His TSTL symptoms are as follows:
While he’d had his car worked on, it was still profusely leaking oil. This was making an ugly stain on the driveway so, I finally announced ‘Get an oil pan’. JTG countered (he always counters, Geeks always have to think they’re right, righter than you) that he could just put down some cat litter. OK, lawd knows there’s plenty of cat litter round here, just do it. Days later, after my insistence, he didn’t just sprinkle some cat litter, but bought some of that expensive ‘oil-dryer’ sand, which looks and acts remarkably just like cat-litter.
While I’ve gotten him trained to take the trash cans down to the curb weekly, he somehow neglected to notice the instructions on the biggest lid of the bins, that says ‘Space your cans, so the mechanical claw can reach round to pick up your trash.’
Which he didn’t do.
So, the trash wasn’t picked up, and he just let the overloaded can trickle trash onto the curb. This is not normal for anyone with two brain cells to rub together. I had to leave an explicit message to READ the spacing instructions, and Pick up the spilled trash! This is a mobile home park, not a third-world country; we pick up after ourselves here!
While we had worked on the porch, two weeks later it still wasn’t finished because Jim th’geek was ‘too busy’. Angered and annoyed, I ORDERED him to get it done. So he counters stupid/smartly; he’ll buy a ‘wood blade’ for the Dremel Multi Max at Hormone Depot to get the right fit around the rail posts. The next week after that, he would buy the Dremel tool outright. [!?]
(This is where I frustrate geeks like Jimmy and my Ex to no end with my logic)
“If you buy the Dremel Mulit Max KIT, it has a ‘wood blade’ already in it, and you save money… “ BUT!
If you’re late on your rent; why are you buying new tools anyway!?
Have Garth the Goth, Redneck, Jew in Hardware markdown a wood blade for ‘store use’; take the boards in, on your work shift and get them cut for FREE.
I’ve never seen Jimmy so disgruntle. He did as I said, hating all the while that I was right. Hey, being right is not a crime, but deliberately exposing people to TSTL should be!
He is productive in one area; he produces a lot of cats! He and his ex-wife both love kittens so much that they have to keep a constant supply coming, or else they’ll go out and adopt, aquire or steal some. For some reason, they thought I would just love that hobby of theirs. Not! On a quick stop by her house, they brought out all her cats to show me like they were prize bowling trophies. The loving cup, I have to admit, was a darling, tiny, tabby with blue eyes and tiger stripes, that Jimmy insisted I hold. He was a warm, fuzzy, cutie but suddenly JTG started explaining this was just a foster kitty, that they needed to find a home for and… uh-oh! I handed the kitten back, like it was hazardous waste. I don’t hate cats, but I’m not a cat person. Cat5 was all I needed to remind me of that!
Lastly, after trying and trying and trying, to get Jimmy the Geek to clean up his GeekKrap in the Karport for three months now; I’d had it. At the end of my rope,
I was at a complete loss. Was I just going to have to submit to the shame of my shelter being reduced to shanty squalor?
I’ve tried everything humanly possible sans voodoo brainwashing to roust him, but I haven’t ruled it out completely. Animated zombies can still bring in a paycheck, right? Sadly, The Instruments of Torture Inspiration hadn’t been very effective. The car battery and needles made him twitch like a frog’s leg, but all it got me was gibbering of lame promises. Lame promises he’s good at.
I’ve gotten assurances that(and these are real things he’s said): he’ll clean up the house; he’ll fix my bike; he’ll plant a garden; he’ll build a deck; he’ll buy his wifefriend a new car; he’ll buy me a new car and he’ll buy the wifefriend a new house, etc.
He can’t motivate himself to take his aluminum cans to the recycling to the center without my prodding him, but still he has these grandiose visions. The poor boy’s so afflicted with TSTL he’s hallucinating. His case is terminal. Terminal in that, it’s going to get him killed, probably by my hand.
I could put a hard hint like giving ‘vacuum bags’ as a gift, those bags that are supposed to save space by sucking the air out of clothes and fabrics? ….with a note of encouragement that said “these will fit well UNDER the house.” …and not only did he not use them in a timely manner, but when I insisted he do so (since he hadn’t paid rent in full yet [and he still hasn’t]) he packed them full of WET laundry, without suctioning the air from them …and left them in the carport.
Com’on I’m not a complete bitch; …say only 45% bitch or so, that I even tried to be supportive and nice to the wifefriend. Since we’ve all had to rely on the laundromat, I asked to her pick out a nice washer/dryer; then I would cover the cost and we’d all live happily ever after in laundryland …but can they even do that? Nooooo, she’d rather roll out the quarters every week. Just how hard is it to make a decision, folks?
Jimmy’s even infecting his Geek Kids with TSTL. The other day, I tried to enlisted his eldest son in some landscaping maintenance. Pulling Jimmy Jr. away from the Play Station™, I gave him the simplest job of all: mowing the lawn. Granted, I don’t have a lawn mower, my grass lawn is more of a grass patch, so I handed over the weed whacker I usually use for this task. Reasonably sure this wasn’t going to result in mass casualties, I left him to his labors. … Only to check up on him, and find him chopping at the grass with the weed whacker held vertically like an axe. This is not a bad sight gag, this really happened. Oh, the horror- a High School teenager who’s never learned how to use a weed whacker.
This isn’t being ‘Big Sis’, this is being ‘Mom’ to those who should be fully functional human beings by now.
When I saw Jimmy the Geek’s teamwork as a Seabee and what I’d heard about his work habits on the job; made me think he was a hard-working, team-playing, go-getter, who’d just gotten down on his luck. With a work team to follow, he’s one of those old wind-up toys, with someone behind him turning his key, he’ll go-go-go. However, when his spring runs down, he won’t wind himself up. Not an energizer bunny, like me! No! He’s just stupid! Plain and simple; stupid-stupid-stupid.
Did I say he was honest, reliable and trustworthy? I did? I was wrong.
Honest? Yes, he will honestly tell you what you want to hear –damn the facts!
Reliable? Yeah, to whoever nabs him first. He’ll work hard right until the next person asks something of him, then he’s off and you’re forgotten.
Trustworthy? Uh, yea, you can trust him to WANT to do it, but making it happen is up to you to orchestrate, implement and boot him in the ass; and keep booting him, like his cats, or else it won’t get done.
This doubles the frustration of his not meeting his rent payment fully again this month! Yes, again! Chingo! As of right now, I’ve only gotten half of it.
I’m not deaf to his plight, I know he’s working at two jobs to bring in more income. Where that’s all going isn’t necessarily my business, he could have a $100 a day coke habit and a beanie baby addiction for all I know, but I can say I’m not happy that it’s not going towards rent. At the very least, he could have ‘worked for rent’ instead he pouts that he’s too busy, too side-tracked …and then he goes and visits his brother, instead of doing his chores.
You see the compounding signals of TSTL?
JTG liestells me things are getting better, when what he’s doing is leeching off rent money to pay other bills. To that, I’ve told him directly:Your financial plan sucks! Get help! Granted, I’ve done stuff like that to get by this past year myself, but not to a good friend that I didn’t try to repay somehow! Work , trade or barter; what I didn’t do was mooch.
Enough was enough, at this I snapped, and alerted the authorities to my actions.
No really, I did.
He doesn’t know it was me. (Don’t tell him or I’ll dishonor your ancestors) There’s two things he doesn’t know that I’ve done for him, good and bad;
The good one was- as a permanent employee of a metal manufacturing company, I get a Life Insurance policy. Meaning if I kick the bucket, they’ll pay my next of kin for the inconvenience. Well, seeing as I have no spouse nor dependents, I’ve signed the insurance payment over to JTG. Hey, my real family are fine; bro & sis are doing good, even if we never talk so, I figured if anyone needed the money it was Jimmy. He could just stay in this house and not worry about pissing off his landladyloca anymore.
The other thing was: reporting myself, well my mobile home space. I’d told Jimmy that the park has standards and regulations of maintenance… Well, I figured since he wasn’t listening to me, he’d listen to the management and so, I REQUESTED a notice of policy violation to this residence. Understand: they’re really good folks. I’ve paid my rent late before; they worked with me because I kept in contact and never let it go past thirty days. But complete flaking, I’ve never done. They even let this GeekKrap mess pass for 90 days now without comment. So, as a good tenant of the Mobile Home Community …I narced on Jimmy.
The nasty-gram arrived yesterday. ~Whew~ I thought they’d just threaten us with park rules. We got a full EVICTION notice, with pictures documenting the offending offal (yeah, it’s that bad!) if it’s not cleaned up. We have 14 days: if by this weekend he doesn’t do something about it, I’m renting a U-haul and taking it to the dump. At least, then I can do that guilt-free, not like he didn’t know.
Oh shit! He doesn’t know! This dude’s got denial down to a science. The notice arrived Saturday and I texted JTG at work and told him to look at the letter which I left on the communal bulletin board in the hall. On my out this morning for errands, I glanced at the board for any news for me… and the letter was still there, unopened.
All I can say is he’s in for a shock when he sees all his shits gone next weekend.
Sorry, can't make this stuff funny anymore :(
Un. Friggin. Believable.
JTG is so irresponsible, he doesn't care if he gets ME evicted.
The deadline for the clean-up as per Park Violation Notice is Friday.
He did small shuffles of shit for the first week; claiming he didn't have time for more.
I checked his schedule myself and repeatedly insisted he get the crap moved outta there by last weekend, because I didn't want him to push the envelope.
Monday (being part of the holiday weekend) was supposed to be: finish the porch steps (yes, the same job he's been putting off since the beginning of June) and get help from Cletus and his truck to get that crap into storage...
Here's the porch on Tuesday;
...still incomplete.
He arrived late on Monday; blew off the porch; in favor of moving the crap, and swore whatever he didn't get stored today, he'd do on Wednesday.
Thursday.
The half hour after midnight, when I arrive home from my swing shift ...
Nothing has been done with the remaining GeekKrap. The shit that was left over from Monday is still there ...untouched.
I have a mobile home to save, so I'm picking it all up in the morning and dumping it on his bed.
My question to you is: Am I being unreasonable? Is there another option?
Because; if I don't get a damned good reason not to- I'm kicking The Geek out.
JTG is so irresponsible, he doesn't care if he gets ME evicted.
The deadline for the clean-up as per Park Violation Notice is Friday.
He did small shuffles of shit for the first week; claiming he didn't have time for more.
I checked his schedule myself and repeatedly insisted he get the crap moved outta there by last weekend, because I didn't want him to push the envelope.
Monday (being part of the holiday weekend) was supposed to be: finish the porch steps (yes, the same job he's been putting off since the beginning of June) and get help from Cletus and his truck to get that crap into storage...
Here's the porch on Tuesday;
...still incomplete.
He arrived late on Monday; blew off the porch; in favor of moving the crap, and swore whatever he didn't get stored today, he'd do on Wednesday.
Thursday.
The half hour after midnight, when I arrive home from my swing shift ...
Nothing has been done with the remaining GeekKrap. The shit that was left over from Monday is still there ...untouched.
I have a mobile home to save, so I'm picking it all up in the morning and dumping it on his bed.
My question to you is: Am I being unreasonable? Is there another option?
Because; if I don't get a damned good reason not to- I'm kicking The Geek out.
Re: With Friends like These cont.
So, there are no objections?
I was steeling myself to put up with a lot for the sake of his kid's, money was not the object.
I tried offering some deals to him instead of getting financial payment and he flaked on those too. He could be rent free this month, but no, he doesn't want to put the effort into it.
This putting my home in jeopardy ...and then complaining to the neighbors that I'm being too demanding; without telling them that he hasn't paid on time ONCE; hasn't completed a project ONCE; has admitted he probably can't pay July at all and doesn't care that he could get me booted outta the park. ¡Chingo - Too much! Too Much!
I was steeling myself to put up with a lot for the sake of his kid's, money was not the object.
I tried offering some deals to him instead of getting financial payment and he flaked on those too. He could be rent free this month, but no, he doesn't want to put the effort into it.
This putting my home in jeopardy ...and then complaining to the neighbors that I'm being too demanding; without telling them that he hasn't paid on time ONCE; hasn't completed a project ONCE; has admitted he probably can't pay July at all and doesn't care that he could get me booted outta the park. ¡Chingo - Too much! Too Much!
Re: With Friends like These cont.
You've got to take care of yourself, Lo. You have been more than patient. Boot him and his brood out.
Do you have to give him official written notice to leave? If so that could mean you're stuck with him for another month...
Do you have to give him official written notice to leave? If so that could mean you're stuck with him for another month...
Re: With Friends like These cont.
Do whatever you have to do with his stuff to avoid eviction, I believe that would be justified under the law.
Serve him with a 30-day notice to quit tenancy ASAP; he likely gets 30 days from the beginning of the next rental period to clear the premises (i.e., he'd have until the end of August), unless you serve it for failure to pay rent - then you can probably get him out sooner.
I'd recommend a call to legal services to learn the specifics of CA landlord/tenant law in this regard.
Take care of yourself, loCA. Pulling for ya!
Serve him with a 30-day notice to quit tenancy ASAP; he likely gets 30 days from the beginning of the next rental period to clear the premises (i.e., he'd have until the end of August), unless you serve it for failure to pay rent - then you can probably get him out sooner.
I'd recommend a call to legal services to learn the specifics of CA landlord/tenant law in this regard.
Take care of yourself, loCA. Pulling for ya!
For me, it is far better to grasp the Universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring.
~ Carl Sagan
~ Carl Sagan
Re: With Friends like These cont.
I agree with Kristina and BSG...
If you were in SF you'd be lucky to get them out in a month...(if they wanted to fight it, three months would be more like it) but maybe things aren't as stacked in the tenants favor in San Jose, (also the fact that you live on the premises may make a difference)
It seems pretty obvious to me that what you've got here are a pair of irresponsible gypsy-type grifters who use their children to play on the sympathy of others and take advantage of them....(I'm still trying to get my head around the idea of 3 adults, six kids and a huge assortment of animals all living in what must be a relatively small amount of space....I'd have gone insane a long time ago....)
Eviction is no big deal to them...they wound up at your place because they were being evicted, (and I'd bet that wasn't the first time)...and they'll think less than nothing of getting you evicted as well. They're trying to see how much they can get away with and how long they can get away with it....Taking advantage of other people is a way of life for this type....They have no self respect, and none for anyone else either.
No matter how long it's going to take you to finally pry these lampreys off of you, one thing is certain; it's not going to be any shorter if you continue to put it off. You should start immediately.
Then they can start searching out their next mark.
If you were in SF you'd be lucky to get them out in a month...(if they wanted to fight it, three months would be more like it) but maybe things aren't as stacked in the tenants favor in San Jose, (also the fact that you live on the premises may make a difference)
It seems pretty obvious to me that what you've got here are a pair of irresponsible gypsy-type grifters who use their children to play on the sympathy of others and take advantage of them....(I'm still trying to get my head around the idea of 3 adults, six kids and a huge assortment of animals all living in what must be a relatively small amount of space....I'd have gone insane a long time ago....)
Eviction is no big deal to them...they wound up at your place because they were being evicted, (and I'd bet that wasn't the first time)...and they'll think less than nothing of getting you evicted as well. They're trying to see how much they can get away with and how long they can get away with it....Taking advantage of other people is a way of life for this type....They have no self respect, and none for anyone else either.
No matter how long it's going to take you to finally pry these lampreys off of you, one thing is certain; it's not going to be any shorter if you continue to put it off. You should start immediately.
Then they can start searching out their next mark.
Re: With Friends like These cont.
I'm reduced to ranting; I tried to find the humor in it ...but if this isn't any fun anymore for you folks, juss' say so.
Damn it! I came home today from work to find JTG working on the porch ...and half the rent taped to my door. That's 2/3rds of my eviction reasoning out the door! <grumble>
I, so had my 'irresponsible tenant' speech prepared too!
Had my text-messaged berating had an effect? Stay tuned Bat-fans!
...if you wanna!
Damn it! I came home today from work to find JTG working on the porch ...and half the rent taped to my door. That's 2/3rds of my eviction reasoning out the door! <grumble>
I, so had my 'irresponsible tenant' speech prepared too!
Had my text-messaged berating had an effect? Stay tuned Bat-fans!
...if you wanna!
Re: With Friends like These cont.
Is all the Geekkrap gone?
Re: With Friends like These cont.
Probably.Had my text-messaged berating had an effect?
He probably figured he had pushed as far as he could, and then he did as little as he thought he could get away with, (half the rent) to get you to calm down and continue to put up with the situation. Next month, when he thinks you've reached your limit again, you'll probably get another half a month's worth.
I guess that half the rent payment covers them through the middle of this month. If I were you I would sit down with him calmly (but firmly...stand your ground no matter what he says or promises) and explain to him that it just isn't working out. Tell him that you don't want any more money; and that you'll give him till the middle of next month to make other living arrangements and move out.
That's more than fair. Yeah, you're giving him a month of living there for free, but believe me, you'll be out more than that if you let this continue to go on.
Also after a week of laying this down, start (politely) checking on his efforts and progress towards finding a new place.
Anyway, that is what I would do.
Re: With Friends like These cont.
Yup (on the outside) We remain unevicted! However the porch still isn't finished ...kristina wrote:Is all the Geekkrap gone?
The day I returned home to witness him working on it, I refused to pitch in, since it was I who gathered up the last of the geekkrap and dumped it, not on his bed, but in the middle of his room. While I thought he hadn't done ANY work at all on the situation upon closer examination the next day, I noticed he'd trimmed the willow tree. [?] Why? I had no forkin idea, that was no where listed on the violations letter.
Turns out it was TSTL, when I asked/complained about that his response was (really) 'I was trying to make it look nice; I thought I was being courteous.' To which I replied, 'Seriously, you thought your crap spilled all over my yard looked nice? How about you courteously finish the porch, and pay me the rent? That would be nice! Do WHAT you say you're going to do, WHEN you say you're going to do it. Otherwise, your being dishonest, disrespectful and discourteous.' (I so feel like a mom, during those moments)
That got me half the rent payment, but again Jimmy was pissed I was right. He tried to tell me I'd neglected to pick up the paint, when I'd picked up the siding. "That's last" I explained, "And I can only carry so much on foot." Yes, bikes and boards, don't mix well, so I'd hauled a hand truck onto the light rail to get JTG his material, and all he could do was complain.
I want to evict him; I'd love to see him gone. Shoot, he wants to be gone. This has even put a strain on my relationship (Yuca got kinda jealous, that I was 'living with another man') The fact is: I need the $$$, even if it's a trickle at a time. This is life in the economic trenches folks. Beggars can't be choosers. If he had kept this place gleaming, but hadn't handed over some rent; I'd have kicked him out.
My other option is to find a second job, which I'm seeking. Extra employment income will definitely mean I won't need Jimmy anymore!
Re: With Friends like These cont.
VINDICATED!!!
...haven't posted to here in a while as life is much stranger and annoying than fiction, and I actually didn't want an angry mob with pitchforks and flaming torches, to drive The Geek and his family out with 'Arrrrrrrrrgh's' and 'Uggggggggggghr's'.
...but the highlights of their uber-geekiness are as follows:
Leaves are for losers!: In the Fall, the Trees become trouble, with their dead-leaf triple-output. Here I thought, was a small request, after I'd raked the daily droppings into a pile before work; to ask via text message that the roomies put it in the compost can, thX?
I was told textually that it was too dark (huh?) could they do it on Friday?
To which I replied: 'I can't ask the tree to stop dropping leaves till Friday!'
A cell-phonic battle ensued, with my explaining the importance of picking up leavings, and they expressing outrage at being treated 'childishly'.
OK, call me the Bitch, but I was sure the clean-up had to be done- to prevent the gutters from clogging and the sewers from backing up, 'kay!? I just didn't want to be the only one in the house held responsible for that duty, so sue me. Following that fuming, they finally agree to rake leaves, ~phew~
Into winter, and the house needed re leveling, as usual...
We crawled beneath it, my fellows and I, meaning YuCA, his best buddy Red and I(not the Geek with his claustro/arachnophobia) ; searching for pilings that needed pounding ... and we found more! One spot of insulation was soaked to bathtub proportions. Why? Because it was beneath the roomies bathroom. Further investigation revealed, they were not closing the curtain completely during showers, and the floor was getting saturated with so much water, it was seeping into the base stuffing ...which had to be torn out. Chingo! It took repeated reminders to not splash water out of the tub; including a posted SIGN by the shower stall to get them to get it.
Little did I know- they, in fact liked the place.
...a lot!
Head-butting aside, they liked the central location and the family-friendly atmosphere of the trailer p... mobile home community. Now, that their year of recovery is nearly over; they're talking about moving out, and into their own mobile home. I've been redeemed. They don't want to leave the trailerhood; and the place they want to move to is a nearly identical model top mine within the park, huzzah.
They love the location and the layout, and don't want to leave it! I'm so proud!
...haven't posted to here in a while as life is much stranger and annoying than fiction, and I actually didn't want an angry mob with pitchforks and flaming torches, to drive The Geek and his family out with 'Arrrrrrrrrgh's' and 'Uggggggggggghr's'.
...but the highlights of their uber-geekiness are as follows:
Leaves are for losers!: In the Fall, the Trees become trouble, with their dead-leaf triple-output. Here I thought, was a small request, after I'd raked the daily droppings into a pile before work; to ask via text message that the roomies put it in the compost can, thX?
I was told textually that it was too dark (huh?) could they do it on Friday?
To which I replied: 'I can't ask the tree to stop dropping leaves till Friday!'
A cell-phonic battle ensued, with my explaining the importance of picking up leavings, and they expressing outrage at being treated 'childishly'.
OK, call me the Bitch, but I was sure the clean-up had to be done- to prevent the gutters from clogging and the sewers from backing up, 'kay!? I just didn't want to be the only one in the house held responsible for that duty, so sue me. Following that fuming, they finally agree to rake leaves, ~phew~
Into winter, and the house needed re leveling, as usual...
We crawled beneath it, my fellows and I, meaning YuCA, his best buddy Red and I(not the Geek with his claustro/arachnophobia) ; searching for pilings that needed pounding ... and we found more! One spot of insulation was soaked to bathtub proportions. Why? Because it was beneath the roomies bathroom. Further investigation revealed, they were not closing the curtain completely during showers, and the floor was getting saturated with so much water, it was seeping into the base stuffing ...which had to be torn out. Chingo! It took repeated reminders to not splash water out of the tub; including a posted SIGN by the shower stall to get them to get it.
Little did I know- they, in fact liked the place.
...a lot!
Head-butting aside, they liked the central location and the family-friendly atmosphere of the trailer p... mobile home community. Now, that their year of recovery is nearly over; they're talking about moving out, and into their own mobile home. I've been redeemed. They don't want to leave the trailerhood; and the place they want to move to is a nearly identical model top mine within the park, huzzah.
They love the location and the layout, and don't want to leave it! I'm so proud!
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oldr_n_wsr
- Posts: 10838
- Joined: Sun Apr 18, 2010 1:59 am
Re: With Friends like These cont.
I am still raking leaves and here it is April. Raked this morning and then cleaned out two of the gardens (weeding, putting in a layer of compost soil, ect) and the fence once again has at least a trash bag of leaves blown against it. GRRRRRR.Leaves are for losers!: In the Fall, the Trees become trouble, with their dead-leaf triple-output. Here I thought, was a small request, after I'd raked the daily droppings into a pile before work; to ask via text message that the roomies put it in the compost can, thX?
Oh, an I make THE BEST compost soil here on Long Island. 4 parts leaves, 1 part grass and whatever eggshells and lettuce and green scraps from the table I can gather. Turn frequently and in a year I end up with 3-4 yard of grade A dirt.