The Dregs of Society

No, this isn't a rant about indigent bums who panhandle for money to buy booze. Although I did find out when I was in Seattle, that sometimes bums there will get drunk just so they fall over and get hurt. Upon receiving injuries, the paramedics and police and everyone else who has a car with lights on it comes to the scene to take the bums either to a hospital or jail. I think this is pretty innovative of bums. No longer do they need to commit petty felonies to be taken to jail, they can just keel over drunk and get a nice hot meal in jail, thanks to Andrew Smith and his tax dollars. I guess it's kind of a testament to rugged individualism...sort of, thought I have a feeling Fred J. Turner might not agree.

No, I am not writing to rant about bums who take my tax money, I'm writing to talk about how I am in the dregs of society, i.e. a resident of Grove City, PA. Let me picture for you what my house looks like, and then my neighborhood. It helps to highlight the fact that I'm surrounded by society's finest...finest derelicts!!! My house is about as old as the Brady Bunch, if not older. Some of the rooms have wood paneling, and some dont'. Some of the rooms have "green beer vomit Green" carpet (and yes I do know what that looks like thanks to the Luck O' the Irish this year...great) and some have poop brown carpet. My house is insulated with the oldest insulation known to man, and that insulation consists of cold air between fragments of drywall. So further solidify the fact that my apartment is a crap heap, there is some wood on the door hinges to the basement.

"Wait wait wait, Andrew...don't you mean a wooden door on the hinges?"

No people, I mean rotten-pieces-of-wood-that-used -to-be-a-door is on the door hinges to the basement. And while you're thinking about that, yes, that does mean cold air is incessantly flowing into our house, keeping the gas thermostat constantly on, and keeping our gas bill consistently over $250. I live in a house that should be occupied by a indigent drunkard who can't hold down a job, and who beats his buck toothed common law wife for a self esteem boost between hits of heroin. But I live there instead.

You know what I'm not even going to talk about my neighborhood, because every house on my block follows suit. I don't know if it's worse that this place is a trash pile, or that I volunteer to live there and furthermore, pay to live there. There's certainly something to be said for living the bachelor lifestyle where you don't care where you live, and you scrape by from paycheck to paycheck. That's part of life and growing up, unless you're an engineer or business whiz and make tons of cash out of school. Then you don't have to worry about anything, right? Yes. But I think my apartment honestly scares people away. I think my apartment is actually such a dive that people are averse to coming over, save maybe Courtney and Carly and a few others who make it out a lot. If you want to come over and see possibly the worst apartment in America (though we did get some sweet, sweet artwork) you can come over and check it out yourself. Any feedback you have to offer about how to make it more hospitable would be much appreciated.

On a positive note, I have been sick for the past week; now, however I feel a lot better. Anon, can I get a sarcastic Amen in here? I think that the warm weather, and the supposed death of the White Witch, has renewed vigor to my bones (but not my apartment)!Still, Hallelujah!

On another positive note, I think I'm going to try to stop complaining as much as I do. I think it's bad for my health. I just had to get this little bit out in the air for the public to see.