7am, my closet is flooded by the upstairs bathroom for the 6th time in three months. Maintenance comes, doesn't even check the pipes and looks at the water-damage and says, 'Yup, that's what a leak'll do'. Bastards.
I am in dire need of a chicken burger - no, not a chicken breast slapped between two buns. I'm talking ground up chicken meat, pressed into a patty, pan fried, stuck on toasted sesame seed bun with mustard and ketchup and a steaming side of seasoned fries. That is to much to ask for apparently.
Maybe in the next few days I'll post some poems, or a story fragment or something more artistic than me publicly berating myself and bitching about craptastic housing.
I am in dire need of a chicken burger - no, not a chicken breast slapped between two buns. I'm talking ground up chicken meat, pressed into a patty, pan fried, stuck on toasted sesame seed bun with mustard and ketchup and a steaming side of seasoned fries. That is to much to ask for apparently.
Maybe in the next few days I'll post some poems, or a story fragment or something more artistic than me publicly berating myself and bitching about craptastic housing.