Dave, my property manager called me this evening. He hadn’t
gotten my voicemail message saying that the police were at the building and
ready to kick in the door of one of my tenants after a car chase.
I quickly filled Dave in on the police situation and told
him that the police said they’d call him if they actually had to kick in one of
the doors in the building. So far Dave hadn’t gotten any calls. That’s a good
thing.
Fast forward about an hour. Dave calls back. He says “Dude,
I’m going to send you a new contract. I mean, we didn’t plan on this. You have
about 10 cop cars parked outside your building.”
Cop voice behind Dave: “And a paddywagon!”
Dave: “And a paddywagon. They’re arresting at least one of
your tenants. Maybe more than one.”
Cop: “He may not have any tenants left after this!”
Dave: “Yeah, you may not have any tenants left after this.”
Me: “Well, they’re not on leases anyway, so I don’t
care.”Hahah. My lame attempt at humor.
But it’s entirely possible that I won’t have any tenants after this.
Dave: “I’ll be back tomorrow to talk to your criminals.”
The cops wouldn’t let Dave into the building, so I guess
we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see what damage has been done and how many
tenants I have left. Oh, the joys of being a slumlord property owner.
Yup, ON SALE Personalized Cleveland Brown Jerseys. And the last one I got had COUCH on it.
When I got to my office this morning I had a remote check waiting for me from a remote I did back in September. AND NFL Shop had a deal where shipping was FREE! Soooooo SHIP IT! Everyone should be able to recognize me now at the gathering
“Daddy, me and Ry Ry have talked it over and we don’t want to come see you tomorrow. We would rather you come up here so we don’t have to leave mommy.” (Crying begins from my 8 year old Shelby)
I’m so glad that the kids will be here tomorrow. I need to be reaching out rather than pushing away as I have been in the last 36 hours. I can deal with pressure, I love pressure, but pressure without reward or even the illusion of reward means crap to me.
I wish I could understand the inane questions that people ask during conference calls to make them seem better than everyone else. Just shut the hell up and let us all get through the damn things PLEASE.
I wish I could understand the reason why I can offer my heart to anyone and everyone, though I know I am going to be disappointed. Maybe it’s beacause I just have so much love to offer someone.
However it was fun asking people yesterday when they called me asking for concert tickets what free stuff I could get from them, especially my friend who worked at a jewelry store that ISN’T at the mall. (Not my two closest, big boobed friends.)
“Can I get diamond earrings from you?”
“Why would I give you diamond earrings?”
“Why would I give you concert tickets?”
“Well, you’re my friend.”
“Same reason to your question.”
For some reason we got disconnected. What a shame.
In the middle of TSO, my ex-girlfriend, who I took because I couldn’t find anyone else to bring, asked me to get back together with her.
It was an easy to find out if she had “really changed” like she said she had. And for the record, she hasn’t.
My mind has been thinking about a friend of mine in LA. She’s lost her father in the last week, almost lost her home to the wildfires that came to the rear of her apartment complex. The girl doesn’t know what happiness is for the last three weeks have been filled with nothing but Tragedy.
But seconds ago she called to tell me that shes finally going to sleep… BEFORE MIDNIGHT which is a minor miracle.
Sweet dreams my princess. Take your Italian Ass to bed!
I’m glad you finally took my advice! GO TO BED!
Sometimes it takes a friend to kick you in the ass to make life happen.
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