The fury.
It takes a lot to enrage me, and when it happens it's never pretty. Thankfully I can control it. Otherwise today it would have been double homicide time for me. So I'm getting bounced out of the house I live in because the guy who lived there before is moving his girlfriend and her 13 yearold daughter in, and I have to split. Even though he's $7000 behind on the rent, his land laord for the place are his folks, so out I go on my ass.
I can live with this. This kind of thing happens.
What I can't live with is this:
the girlfriend and daughter show up, and I'm working down by the road (I live where I work, in fact the house is owned by my employers, long story) and the woman puls in and says, " Hey I'm gonna do some painting at the house." I say fine, where? She says, " Upstairs." I say, " Well don't worry about my room, and if you need me to move any of my stuff let me know. " she says fine they drive off.
A few hours later I get off work I walk in the house. They;re upstairs painting. I walk in and see my room being painted the most hideous shade of electric blue I've ever seen. Furthermore the woman has made no fucking effor to cover anything. She just tossed all my shit that was in her way in the middle of the floor. Oh and it was covered with the same electric blue paint. Clothes, my duffle bag that was my fathers old sea bag and that we've both carried all over the world, my books, my sheets, my comforter. All that shit. Needless to say I lost it. And I knew, knew that it wasn't going to end pretty. Until her daughter looks at me (I hadn't aid anything, I get real quiet right before meltdown) and says "Pepsi?" and holds a can towards me. Well you can't kill a kid who offers you Pepsi, or make her motherless. So I just said no and I left. But everyone else got an earful, my boss, my friend who's girlfriend did the painting, Jesus, God. All kinds of folks.
So I'm what you might call highly pissed. The upstairs of my house has been rendered unlivable, and I have to crash on a couch until this whole this is resolved. But what fucking steams my ass is the fact that this person never had the coutesy to ask me to move my stuff or cover it, or just stay out of my room, and stay out of my shit. Nothing makes me more angry than my property and my space being violated. It just ain't funny. Well so this is by no means a funny story, but maybe later when I calm down...

Postscript: I was actually gonna call this entry " When the angry face emoticon just isn't enough" But I don't really use emoticons so...there you go. I'm a little less angry right now. Well less furious. thank god for my sister who happened to stop by and get my stuff out of the house. I was so just engraged I didn't dare go back inside. So she went in gave the woman hell. The best things she said to the girl was: " See what really set him off was you got paint on his dufflebag." the girl said so it's a little paint on a shitty old bag. to which my sister replied, " It was my fathers from the War and he carried it all around the world, and my brother's carried it every where he goes. You can't replace that. It's not about a little paint, it's about having fucking repect." I love my sister. We don't know what we'd do without each other. The next best thing se said, and this was to me was, " I never though a fresh coat of paint could unimprove a room."
So to end all this I came back later to find trash in the yard and new dishes in the sink. Fuck these people. they're dead to me.

Tomorrow a story. Maybe even that weather one. Sorry catiedid it's not really funny. But there is sex in it. I'll try to keep it from being to graphic.