The Morning After

So I thought I'd feel better about this whole granny swinger neighbor today, and I did for a little while. But the more I think of it, and I can't seem to stop thinking of it, the more I get skeeved out. I realize I left out some of the intricate details that Richard so generously shared with me yesterday. So allow myself to elaborate a little lot.  So R (that's Richard) was invited for a glass of vino, granny swinger, whom we'll call, GS, answered the door in a t-shirt and granny panties. So R went and sat on the couch and GS attempted to explain her lifestyle choices whilst pulling a half assed Sharon Stone à la Basic Instinct leg lift.  And that's when she gave R the details about her little surprise party for the plenty of fish friends of hers. She's laying a big matress in the middle of the floor and when her 'friends' arrive they will have to deduce it for themselves what it's there for. 

Also here are some other notable mentionables about GS: She didn't tell us she had 3 cats, one of her 2 boyfriends are always at the house, she wakes up at the crack of dawn and starts hammering pictures up, she's expecting her first grandchild due any minute now, her apt already smells of urine (as per Richard) and her best friend is one of Richards ex best friends.

Carole who also lives upstairs, and I brought our dogs to the dog park last night and had ourselves a good gab about it all.  She's just as skeeved out as I am and she's way more mature than me so that leads me to believe that I'm not all that immature for blogging about it. ;)  

So I'm figuring since my posts tend to be apartment related, I may as well dedicate it to my life on Bermuda Ave, which is far different from my life in good ol' Bermuda. I know I know, what a coincidence right......... wrong! I totally chose my apartment solely for the street it was on... and look where that got me, living above and next to sex crazed stoners!! lol haha. JK.

 

I love my little apt, and I love my two upstairs neighbors, and even the stoner kid isn't that bad, he's quiet and doesn't complain about me making too much noise. But I swear the street name isn't going to keep me around when the creepos start knocking on my door looking for GS and her giant mattress of love. 

Okay I got to get back to work...

P.S. I think the kitty litter pic is actually a cake that some weirdos think is a funny and apetizing treat.