Well I lay my head on the railroad tracks
Waitin' on the Double E
But the train don't run by here no more
Poor, poor pitiful me
Warren Zevon
Neighbor/landlord complaining and threatening (yelling and shaking his fist...why?) about a dog who didn't do anything; lost every piece of ceramic and pottery off my mantle when they all spontaneously and without cause flung themselves to the floor; and now I'm waiting for what's coming next.
I let my guard down over the past month, getting all cozy and homey and forgetting my place as the universe's doormat.
Yes, welcome the the bitter, self-absorbed side of Sisiggy. It appears every now and then whenever it all hits the fan and the fan is aimed at me. And, honestly, if there wasn't enough other crap hanging over my head, these occurrences would barely score a "blip" on my depression-o-meter.
But...why the over-kill? Are there no pedophiles or mass murders to give shingles to or, perhaps, letting the toilets overflow in the home of a telemarketer or an e-mail spammer?
Certainly there are more deserving miscreants out there to inflict further misery upon rather than wasting it all on a powerless middle-aged housewife whose primary sin against society was not marrying for money or promise of familial inheritance (do not get me started down this line of reasoning and certainly not now...I am surrounded by families who were given their land or house by "Mee-Maw and Pee-Paw," information to which I would normally say a good-natured, "Lucky you and Godspeed*;" but, right now, with 'Pode in jeopardy and an empty mantle, it really pisses me off.).
Anyone still with me? Really? Well, then, join me, won't you?
Poor, poor pitiful me
Poor, poor pitiful me
Lord have mercy on me
Woe, woe is me.
*I lied. I've never used the word "Godspeed" in my life.
6 comments:
Dammit.
That's all for now. I don't know what else to say.
I sort of go for the Hee-Haw version:
"Gloom, despair and agony on me,
Deep dark depression, excessive misery.
If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all,
Gloom, despair and agony on me!"
(What did the Pode not do?)
Jane: My words exactly.
Leslie: Isn't that to the same tune as "Where, oh, where are you tonight?/Why did you leave me here all alone?/I searched the world over and though I found true love./ You found another and (plbbbbbtttt) you was gone."
We really can't figure out what caused the outburst, since 'Pode has been running in the fenced yard for over a week now, not bothering anyone and he's the least mouthiest of all of them. All of a sudden the landlord came charging at me, waving his fist and screaming that "that dog has to be leashed all the time!" Needless to say, all the dogs reacted to this man approaching me so aggressively with his fist raised, which didn't help things. But they all kept to closing in front of me and staring him down and didn't tear his throat out as I wanted to do. He's lucky 'Pode was there to keep me from tearing him apart. (next day it was like nothing had happened. He was all friendly and trying to call Zsa Zsa over the fence to play and laughing at both terriers playing...go figure.)
I dunno, Siggy. It may not be safe to be within 50ft. of you.
Hang in there! Don't let the bastards grind you down! Sic Semper Tyrannis! Twenty-Three Skiddoo!
*ahem*
Hang in there!
Benning: I don't know that any of my rants scare anyone. Maybe if I were taller and more imposing. Or maybe bred Rottweilers.
It sounds to me like the landlord is the dangerous one. Oy! It must get better. It has to. Hang in there.
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