Parental Advisory: Explicit Anger
Free-Floating Anger
- I hate realtors who look at me like I have leprosy until they find out how much money I am making
- I hate stupid hippies in god damned vanagon’s with leaky gas tanks. Grow up and take a shower
- I hate the fact that asshole property owners in Boston think it is OK to rent a shitty apartment for ungodly amounts of money
- I hate the fact that I had to look at a ton of apartments to come up with a list of 3 that I would actually live in happily
- I hate people with stupid bumper stickers
- I hate sleeping on couches. The floor is better
- I hate First & Last Month’s Rent, Security Deposits, and Realtor Fees
- I hate getting pulled over for doing 17 over the speed limit
- I hate having to move my car all day because Boston has stupid parking laws
- I hate looking for apartments. I feel like a god damned nomad.
- I hate worthless road construction
- I hate bad cell signal
- I hate calling patpat’s old work number looking for him so I can get the main CIS office number, only to get some asshole who is completely rude to me; Get some manners you puddle of bile. I hope he falls off the roof of Carlson.
Free-Floating Joy
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I like parents who support me and go way out of their way to help me out
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I like finally finding an apartment that makes me feel like I am not getting prison raped
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I like talking my way out of a speeding ticket for 17 over the speed limit
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I like friends who let me stay at their place while I sort out my life
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I like 6GB of MP3’s on my person at all times
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I like when stupid hippies realize they are dumping gasoline across the interstate and finally get out of my way
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I like when I finally find a realtor who doesn’t treat me like a punk (of course, that is after I told him how much I was making, but still)
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I feel bad for the owner, but there is nothing funnier than seeing a car with it’s passenger side window freshly broken and the mirror broken off. Did I mention that this car had Mass plates “GNU”?
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I like being home…