“…then: you apologize to your mom, right?”
Here’s a picture of her cat shit collection. I live in this house with this cat shit because property owners, who won’t rent to me, have been told I’m a pedophile by the state that convicted me of crimes i didn’t commit 15 years ago.
I can’t get some kind of social services over here to force her to clean that shit up, either. And if i leave here… if even to stay at a hotel for a few days… i could be arrested and charged with a felony that would get me a minimum of eight years in prison.
What the BLOODY HELL is wrong with you?
You f***in empty that cat shit on the daily, you ingrateful turd!
Take it to the trash NOW, ASSHOLE!
Oh no ma’am i don’t handle fecal material.
These are not my cats, and this is not my house. As we stand now, she should be thanking me for taking her trash out every day (i don’t eat here and produce no trash), making her bed, power washing her house and driveway, doing her dishes (i produce no dirty dishes), vacuuming (all pet dander), saving her from spending $9,000 on a new HVAC system she was almost tricked into buying, keeping her car maintained, bringing her back free food when i eat out. On and on.
Indeed, the only reason i am here is because I’m not pounding the pavement anymore looking for an apartment after having lost faith and money on fake rental ad fees.
She does absolutely nothing for me but create problems. She was handed this house for free and blew what money she had left in her inheritance. Now she is delighted that I’m a SO because that keeps me living here… so she can continue to use me where she can. But i draw the line at touching cat shit.
Instead, what you would be asking if you weren’t a disfunctional cat lady freak yourself is: wtf is she doing letting bags of cat shit collect in the corner of a room?
Is she sick? Mental? Indeed, she is, but when you truly know her and what she is like, any sympathy you might have for her (as you would for elderly with similar problems) turns to disgust. She is the equivalent of a sick farm animal that should be collected by the state and taken care of, and no family member - especially me with MY problems - should be obligated to suffer her.
I’m sorry you are a wing-nut and believe what you do, but I don’t owe this piece of shit anything. In fact, i should sue her for smoking when she was pregnant, but i can’t prove the poison from the cigarettes is what caused my leg length discrepancy that has plagued me my entire life.
But would i need to prove it? One could ask: what kind of an irresponsible imbecile smokes when she’s pregnant.
Should my old man have followed through and strangled her back in the 70s. That’s the question. Or should the clock radio thrown at her by the daughter of the husband from the second failed marriage that hit her in the head have killed her.
Really i gotta keep my eye on the end game and somehow make sure she isn’t taken to a elderly home in a wheelbarrow in which case this house gets possessed by the bank she has the reverse mortgage with. If that happens, i don’t get to sell it myself and profit a little from the equity. At my age, with my life sentence as a SO and with so much time taken from me in prison, there’s no point in trying to hunker down now and bust my ass working to catch up. Naw fuck that. I’m ridin it out. When the day comes that i can no longer swing a hammer, if i ain’t got a good chunk of money to ration the rest of my life, im’a strap up and make a livin another way wink
As we can see, whatever piece god and the state moves next in this middle game stage is critically important. One wrong move and my knights and queen are in there, baby.
then get out
Okay one more time, speedy: she doesn’t want me to leave, nor could she manage without me.
If i leave, she goes into the home for the elderly lumpen-proletariat and i don’t get to sell this house. That’s the dilemma I’m in. Now here’s why this is so rich.
Had i not lost so much time and, now, opportunity, it’s very likely that at 35 I would have started doing what i am now - working for myself and making bank - and would have, by this time, established myself and would be able to pay the wage of a visiting nurse to come here when needed. I would have my own place (by now) and none of this madness would be happening right now.
Ergo, a very certain, very immovable force of fate was created by a very particular event… my wrongful incarcerations. Everything has followed that. A chain reaction… like Chain lightning. Be part of the brotherhood.
or with you. Observe: all the shit
If I join the brotherhood, will they jump you until yomama’s house is clean for a straight month, with monthly checkups/jumps?
If not, fuggetaboutit.
In this podcast, my guest is a disgusting catlady who has a catshit hoarding problem. We discuss treatment options and a possible plan of action for disposing of the catshit properly.
Listener’s note: the second clip was made just now after i typed all this out… so i essentially repeated what is typed.
Don’t pay any attention to any of this but the takeaway. This whole thing was for the purposes of demonstrating this: she uses the reason - ‘how hard it is scraping a litter box etc’ - as her excuse for not being able to carry the bags of shit to the trash outside.
Are we to believe that in three months, she hasn’t once had enough energy to take even one bag of shit to the trash?
And why is she able to pick up lighter things like a gallon of milk or her little useless lapdog?
Now, here’s the thing. She’s so dumb she doesn’t even realize that that could never be an excuse, that that is a bullshit excuse, the kind of un-thought-out excuse a nervous child comes up with that clearly won’t work.
This is the kind of person I’m dealing with. Not just a filthy person who hoards catshit and bathes maybe once a week, but someone who is too much of an imbecile to realize her lame attempts to excuse what a piece of shit she is, can’t possibly work.
What’s most offensive, though, is that she would not think it isn’t polite to keep months of catshit in bags in a house that someone else shares with you… and more or less takes care of for you. That’s a kind of disrespect that assumes I’m a filthy animal like her. I find this highly offensive.
As a side note, i figured out what would be the perfect ending to my Dostoy-Shakespearean tragedy; if the housing market is crashed when she finally dies. Then we could say that after six years in prison and losing everything, the Prom spent the rest of his miserable life when he got out taking care of an ungrateful piece of shit moms and her house (while working his own jobs too) only to get nothing in the end when the bank seizes the house. Now, sixty something and with arthritis and back pain so bad from pounding nails for thirty years, he takes residence at a special shelter for pervs (regular shelters won’t take pervs) and works as a gas station clerk at a gas station job he got through the Felons employment incentive program until he retires. Then he collects a hundred dollars a month from social security after retirement age (because working under the table for years (because wages are so low) he wasn’t paying in to social security, and then six years in prison further prevented him from working and paying in) and uses it to buy a bag of kush because what else can you do with $100. Start your future?
Yeah, that would be nice. Hard to top, too, as far as human tragedies in a godless universe go. I’d be hanging out with the spirits in the Beetle Juice afterlife waiting room telling my story, and everybody would be like damn son.
Final note for my audience. Both myself and my moms have new york blood in us, so we show no mercy when tellin’ motherfuckas off, even if they’re our own family members.
.
An idea… construct a guesthouse in the garden, et voila.
A better idea; stop buying motorcycles and Escalades and eating out, save up an expendable five grand, walk into [insert apartment complex] office, say I’M A SEX OFFENDER BUT GUESS WHAT, smack five stacks down on the cute little rental agent’s desk, say nothing, step back and fold my arms as she stares at it finally to say “i don’t think that will be a problem, sir. If you’ll just sign here, here and initial here, we’ll notify you when the unit is cleaned and ready.”
Idea B is to maintain this as my address but vacation often. Like really often. Like all the time often, coming back here only when i had a job to do. I reckon I’d spend around $1500 a month vacationing… which is about the same I’d pay to rent an apartment. So, what’s the difference?
This is the difference. I gotta be very fucking careful about how i do it or I’ll violate the SOR rules and go back to prison. I get fourteen days per thirty days or as an aggregate number of days per one year period to be somewhere for the purpose of vocation and school before having to report where i am… or I should say where i am as a permanent resident.
But nothing is said about vacation; traveling not for vocation or school. Nothing is said in the statutes about a number of days limits before needing to report a place of residence.
This means that i should be able to continuously move about, for any number of days, without having to change my home residence (here), as long as I’m not working or going to school where i am.
I swear to you as i exist before you now that this is the statutes. Here’s what would happen though. A district attorney and/or sheriff would either a) unknowing of his own statutes or b) knowing of them but a liar nonetheless, charge me if a sheriff came by here and found out i was at the beach without informing them.
I would then be arrested and while being right and not in violation of rules even the imbeciles who enforce aren’t competent of, i would be blackmailed into taking a plea offer and pleading guilty to do only four years in prison.
For going to the beach.
Genius 
On perpetual holiday… niiice.
You can observe the incompetence by their inconsistency. Here’s an example. One sheriff will leave a notice if he comes here to check my address and I’m not here… and i call him to confirm i got the notice.
Another sheriff will merely ask the wretched hag if i still live here and leave no notice.
Extrapolating from this it is rational to fear further inconsistency among them and getting a sheriff one day who decides I’m crashing somewhere else and trying to be slick about it and takes out a warrant. All the grand jury needs is probable cause that i might be residing somewhere other than my reported residence. The sheriff’s opinion is sufficient in this case. They don’t need to produce any evidence.
The prosecutor will then pick it up, drop the plea bargain, and get his conviction. Or let me say this instead: i wouldn’t trust that my defender would be able to show how nothing in the statutes says i couldn’t be doing what i was, or that he would even want to try to. It really is that bad with them. And i sure as shit wouldn’t represent myself like sexy Ted, although i would rock the courtroom if i did. I’d have everyone naked and in a grotesque orgy right there in the courtroom. I’m that good. Rasputin? Charlie? Pfft. C-mon man.
Seriously though they would all think i was the antichrist if i got to speak in that room, and i can’t afford that so looks like I’m not going to the beach. Too much of a risk.
You should take care of that house, including the cat shit, because you don’t deserve to be there, because you are an ungrateful person. If you take care of that house, it won’t matter if the market collapses. You will have a house. But, if I am your mom, I am quietly saying that you cannot have that house in my will. So, not being your mom, I personally can’t wait for the moment you find out. I will revoke that statement when I hear you apologize to your mom and punch yourself in the face repeatedly.
Also, why don’t you just inform them you’re taking a vacation? Duh?
I’m not listening to your podcast because I don’t wanna drive 3000 miles and kick your ass.
“You should take care of that house, including the cat shit, because you don’t deserve to be there, because you are an ungrateful person.”
I don’t wanna fuckin be here, dipshit. I do not ‘need’ to be here. I am not ‘thankful’ to be here.
“If you take care of that house, it won’t matter if the market collapses.”
The bank owns the house, dipshit. It has to be sold when the piece of shit dies.
Why are you there? Why not leave? Why make her suffer?
You COULD make her last days good ones.
Would that be the worst thing ever? Would you hate yourself for that?
.
…she’s just come out of my business [ Can dogs think phenominally? - #456 by MagsJ ] and back into yours… [apparently I’m a man-stealing b*tch, of a man whom I have no interest in… both of them [obviously] trolling me, like it’s going out of fashion]
Jesus Christ you are slow. I can’t leave, moron. I can’t just go somewhere like normal people do. I have to find a place that I’m legally able to be at and report that place to the sheriff before i go. I have been living like this since 2008.
Renters don’t like renting to SOs because it’s bad for business. It keeps other renters away so the property owner can’t capitalize on the poor bastards.
Now, what happens when the private renter refuses to rent to me because the state has sabotaged my reputation. Does the state then provide for me the housing i need? Nope. Instead, it destroys your relationship to the private renter and then imprisons you for failing to find somewhere to live (after the state convinces the renter not to rent to you)
Naw bruh. It ain’t gonna work like that. Well i mean not for much longer.
