Heads are gunna roll

*Update at end of post

Ok so maybe you shouldn't drink and email. And maybe you shouldn't drink and email your landlord— especially after a day full of bad news and frustration (ohh yea phishing, trolling and passive aggressiveness all in one!) But god effing damn it I'm super pissed off!

We all remember my whacky ceiling of doom right? It's so stupid to even hyperlink this because it's only two posts away and I'm pretty sure only two people read this stupid thing. So all three of us together, say it with me now party people:

Fix.

The.

Leak.

It's best to say this while pretending to be Ty what's-his-face from Extreme Make Over.

What's so hard about this? There's a leak, you come over here but on your knee pads, SARS mask or what the shit ever else you use to tar a roof and you tar it. Or whatever. Fix it.

Oh what's that you say? You did fix it?

I don't believe you.

I don't believe you because that stupid piece of crap sideways New Jersey/dog from Corpse Bride water stain is still on my ceiling. It's staring at me. It laughs at me at night. Quote the watermark, Nevermore.

Nevermore will HH feel safe in his brand new home I've recently carted from IKEA for him. I lugged that Swedish shit up 3 flights of stairs and now you wanna just sit back and laugh at me? Ah, hell no mother effer!

So what does my genius butt do? Drink a bunch of wine and fire off email #3 to my landlord explaining my frustration, demand and urgent request for a freakin' paint job.

I'm a good tenant! I pay my bills! I want representation from Sherman Moore. I want him to scream me at the top of his little paint boy lungs:

FUMES Sarah FUMES! Quick open the windows and keep away flames, we done effing fixed this piece of crap apartment that shakes, rattles, has uneven floors and the occasional mouse. But damn it the ceiling looks fine! And you can rest assured your more precious asset will be protected. I mean how else are you going to earn enough money get out of here?

My thoughts exactly imaginary little paint boy.

So tomorrow when the wine has drained from my head I'm sure I'll regret my email even though it's civil. The Texan in me will beg and plead to delete this post too, so if you caught it before I sobered up, consider yourself lucky. Yea I'm talking to you, lonely reader. It's ok, it's just us. I'll leave it up.

* Correction: You should totally drunk and email your landlord! My ceiling is fixed. Oh happy day! HH can be returned to his home and I can find something else to obsess about.

Smell the paster!