Over the past 24 hours most of southern part of the state has received a considerable amount of snow. Last night Satan got his Underoos in a twist because of the location of the Pod in his driveway and he wanted it moved "NOW". Otherwise how was his driveway going to get plowed?
First of all, he has an dead Bronco sitting on the cement pad in front of his garage on the right side of his driveway. Secondly, the Pod was positioned right in front of the Bronco, and I park my car in front of the Pod. Soooooo, how does this prevent his driveway from being plowed? Now if he had said my car was in the way, I would agree. But the Pod? Seriously?
He has also decided to start putting his name on his food. Last night I put my name on a half-gallon of chocolate milk. Guess who helped himself to it?
And I am supposed to be grateful? Are you fucking kidding me? I had to use $210 of my own money last week so his dog was legally registered and he still hasn't repaid me. I left him a note this morning that the longer he holds on to that money, the longer the agony of staying here continues. Let's see if that shakes him up. (Probably not.) I would call the parents but they would just side with Jack.
I hate my life.
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