what kind of people annoy you?

I’ve answered that, and recently too.

I dislike rudeness. And I have a long list of what constitutes rudeness. I despise people who hurt children beneath the auspices of education. I am annoyed by self righteous idiots who preach but don’t listen, specifically when it comes to dietary issues. I dislike people who discriminate. I am annoyed with humans who cannot identify when their actions are in fact self-medicating a weak psychology. I cannot abide people who scoff at history.

I also dislike very strongly when people call me names. This a behavior that can be tied to some of the above, but as a specific behavior it annoys me.

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

Apparently my backyard is beset by time traveling dope fiends

More likely it was pharmaceutical garbage.

I guess, but why is it suddenly spawning in my backyard, along with
centuries old books and other things I can make no money off of yet are
priceless?

Actually I lied, I am selling these things. What’s the going price on weird medical relics that aren’t human remains?

Not much. They survive remarkably well.

Boy I can’t wait til the chickens dig up a whole ass dead guy.

I fricking hate this house. I hate it, I hate it.

Why?

The furniture and dishwaare we can’t ever get rid of are mid-70s hideous, green daisy patterned Corel ware that makes food look like it’s gone off and carpets in horrible shades of orange and oatmeal and brown and maplewood furniture in ugly stains.

The display cases are full of depression glass I’ll never get to own, THREE rooms are totally inaccessible due to holding all the junk we aren’t allowed to sell, and MORE KEEPS MATERIALIZING. It’s antiques at its worst and hoarding at its peak. Chris’ entire family is absolutely batshit, the pool refuses to stop being an algae filled menace, I watched a DRAGONFLY HATCH OUT OF ITS SECONDARY LARVAL STAGE AND FLY AWAY TODAY out of the goddamn thing, the garage is full of Chris psycho sister’s impossible Alice in Wonderland crap collection so I don’t get the workspace I was PROMISED, the whole thing was RAT INFESTED until I had to seal holes and buy traps myself, and we can’t ever do anything useful like FIX ANYTHING because Chris’ dad is bonkers and used to be a contractor and wants to do everything himself, but he’s bonkers and WON’T do it so the porch has dry rot and the bedroom has wallpaper that is ORIGINAL TO THE HOUSE and it’s peeling off in chunks and I cannot believe that they just abandoned a house for 20-odd years without ever even going through anything and that everyone is such an asshole we have to wait for them to all actually DIE before anything even can be DONE.

Or you could leave.

That’s the goal. Heck if my room at my parents’ house hadn’t become the storage room, I’d move back there. Right now, I can juust afford this place at the $600 a month he charges, and it kills me. It’s so frustrating to be hassled for rent and utilities because Chris’ dad barely ever works and his mom never has, and the room mate and I are the ONLY income they even have, when they could sell like a lamp, three books, and some ugly glassware and be set at least for the year.

Report him to the rent board for charging rent for part of a house. Or ask to sell Chris’ share of the inheritance, or simply tell the family you’re both no longer willing to act as caretakers of their trash pile.

They cannot legally charge you rent if you’re performing a purpose by living there, such as babysitting their storage pile. They should be paying you to stay there. They also cannot charge rent if they are not providing a proper house, and that pool alone is grounds enough for suit

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

Apparently my backyard is beset by time traveling dope fiends

More likely it was pharmaceutical garbage.

I guess, but why is it suddenly spawning in my backyard, along with
centuries old books and other things I can make no money off of yet are
priceless?

Actually I lied, I am selling these things. What’s the going price on weird medical relics that aren’t human remains?

Not much. They survive remarkably well.

Boy I can’t wait til the chickens dig up a whole ass dead guy.

I fricking hate this house. I hate it, I hate it.

Why?

The furniture and dishwaare we can’t ever get rid of are mid-70s hideous, green daisy patterned Corel ware that makes food look like it’s gone off and carpets in horrible shades of orange and oatmeal and brown and maplewood furniture in ugly stains.

The display cases are full of depression glass I’ll never get to own, THREE rooms are totally inaccessible due to holding all the junk we aren’t allowed to sell, and MORE KEEPS MATERIALIZING. It’s antiques at its worst and hoarding at its peak. Chris’ entire family is absolutely batshit, the pool refuses to stop being an algae filled menace, I watched a DRAGONFLY HATCH OUT OF ITS SECONDARY LARVAL STAGE AND FLY AWAY TODAY out of the goddamn thing, the garage is full of Chris psycho sister’s impossible Alice in Wonderland crap collection so I don’t get the workspace I was PROMISED, the whole thing was RAT INFESTED until I had to seal holes and buy traps myself, and we can’t ever do anything useful like FIX ANYTHING because Chris’ dad is bonkers and used to be a contractor and wants to do everything himself, but he’s bonkers and WON’T do it so the porch has dry rot and the bedroom has wallpaper that is ORIGINAL TO THE HOUSE and it’s peeling off in chunks and I cannot believe that they just abandoned a house for 20-odd years without ever even going through anything and that everyone is such an asshole we have to wait for them to all actually DIE before anything even can be DONE.

Or you could leave.

That’s the goal. Heck if my room at my parents’ house hadn’t become the storage room, I’d move back there. Right now, I can juust afford this place at the $600 a month he charges, and it kills me. It’s so frustrating to be hassled for rent and utilities because Chris’ dad barely ever works and his mom never has, and the room mate and I are the ONLY income they even have, when they could sell like a lamp, three books, and some ugly glassware and be set at least for the year.

Report him to the rent board for charging rent for part of a house. Or ask to sell Chris’ share of the inheritance, or simply tell the family you’re both no longer willing to act as caretakers of their trash pile.

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

Apparently my backyard is beset by time traveling dope fiends

More likely it was pharmaceutical garbage.

I guess, but why is it suddenly spawning in my backyard, along with
centuries old books and other things I can make no money off of yet are
priceless?

Actually I lied, I am selling these things. What’s the going price on weird medical relics that aren’t human remains?

Not much. They survive remarkably well.

Boy I can’t wait til the chickens dig up a whole ass dead guy.

I fricking hate this house. I hate it, I hate it.

Why?

The furniture and dishwaare we can’t ever get rid of are mid-70s hideous, green daisy patterned Corel ware that makes food look like it’s gone off and carpets in horrible shades of orange and oatmeal and brown and maplewood furniture in ugly stains.

The display cases are full of depression glass I’ll never get to own, THREE rooms are totally inaccessible due to holding all the junk we aren’t allowed to sell, and MORE KEEPS MATERIALIZING. It’s antiques at its worst and hoarding at its peak. Chris’ entire family is absolutely batshit, the pool refuses to stop being an algae filled menace, I watched a DRAGONFLY HATCH OUT OF ITS SECONDARY LARVAL STAGE AND FLY AWAY TODAY out of the goddamn thing, the garage is full of Chris psycho sister’s impossible Alice in Wonderland crap collection so I don’t get the workspace I was PROMISED, the whole thing was RAT INFESTED until I had to seal holes and buy traps myself, and we can’t ever do anything useful like FIX ANYTHING because Chris’ dad is bonkers and used to be a contractor and wants to do everything himself, but he’s bonkers and WON’T do it so the porch has dry rot and the bedroom has wallpaper that is ORIGINAL TO THE HOUSE and it’s peeling off in chunks and I cannot believe that they just abandoned a house for 20-odd years without ever even going through anything and that everyone is such an asshole we have to wait for them to all actually DIE before anything even can be DONE.

Or you could leave.

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

simonalkenmayer:

youcantseebutimmakingaface:

Apparently my backyard is beset by time traveling dope fiends

More likely it was pharmaceutical garbage.

I guess, but why is it suddenly spawning in my backyard, along with
centuries old books and other things I can make no money off of yet are
priceless?

Actually I lied, I am selling these things. What’s the going price on weird medical relics that aren’t human remains?

Not much. They survive remarkably well.

Boy I can’t wait til the chickens dig up a whole ass dead guy.

I fricking hate this house. I hate it, I hate it.

Why?

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