I think the most upsetting thing to me about this is that I can't tell if it's about a peer, or about Halforums.
One is in Florida, and the other is in Princeton, WV. Essentially the far opposite end of the state from us.
Looks like I'm not going to be able to attend my grandfather's birthday celebration, so @doomdragon6, I'm counting on you.
So my dream job. Got it.
HAHAHAHAHAHA...but seriously Dave, that blows and I am sorry horrible things happen to great people like you.
Thanks. I know others have it worst and I really shouldn't complain. But when it hits with me it seems that it does so all at once. At least I have my health, right?
Hey, just because others may have it worse than you, doesn't mean your problems don't matter. Or at least that's what my boss keeps telling me when I say I feel bad for complaining about my day when he frequently works 16 hour days 5 or 6 days a week.
At this rate, you'll have that new car. You're just getting it one piece at a time.
I hope you realize i was just joking when you cracked the line about your mother making the phone call on the tv remote and feel free to laugh, I am not saying your problems are not worth talking about. I mean my last two rants have been some asshole just went all mario kart on me and tried to take me out death race style!
)Tell your mom it's just trying to remove the criminal element from your house. And stop using the Bat Signal as a night light. It's the infestation your deserve, not the one you need right now.Within seconds of turning my alarm off, my mom call from downstairs, "there's a bat!"
I stumble down there, grabbing a set of work gloves and a bath towel as I go. The bat is in one corner of the basement den, and the cats are safely in another room. After first warning my mom not to talk to me in my no-coffee five seconds awake state, I gently as possible grab the bat with the towel ant take it outside where it flies away.
NOW... I have to deal with the bat-panic. Mom wants to move her stuff back upstairs. She's closed off the den from the rest of the downstairs, forgetting that the cat's food is in the den and the litter boxes are in another room.
While I get my breakfast ready, I text my more awake sister to call mom to talk her down. There's no way I'm willing to rearrange the entire house over something that can be dealt with via a phone call or two and a visit by a trained professional.
(IIRC, this is the third bat incident in a year... I told my sister to tell mom it was the same bat all three times. It likes her.
Nah, it was a bat that he killed with one shot from an air gun while his wife and kids looked on.
The next roommate will say this room isn't hot enough. Cue cheesy jazz porno music followed with stripping.
Don't worry. After the montage of highly questionable applicants, you'll get the one that fits all your criteria...IF you look past that person's minor exterior defect(s).
