Life's New Chapter

I am eagerly awaiting the retirement of my brother, Kenneth Carman.  He has accomplished so much in his 16 years of service to the United States Marine Corps.  Not only has he done 3 tours in Iraq, but other deployments that didn't make headlines as well.  I will never forget the day that my mother and I saw him off in 1997.  He was so nervous and didn't eat a thing that morning.  Little did I know that the day he graduated from boot camp at Parris Island, South Carolina, a day before my 20th birthday, would be the beginning of a wonderful career for him. 

I sat on the sidelines through countless floats and other assignments.  However, on the day of "Shock and Awe" in 2003 was one of the single most terrifying days of my life.  I was absolutely terrified while watching television.  I just kept thinking, "I have just witnessed the moment my brother has gone to war."  I didn't sleep.  I was worried sick about what was happening to him.  The questions that kept rolling around in my head were, "Is he scared?  Is he safe?  Is he alone?  Please god, don't let anything happen to my brother."  All along, Ken kept telling me that if anything happens to him, just know that it was out of his control. 

His second tour actually scared me more that his first.  I knew that the enemy had regrouped and was making it more difficult for the Marines to stay safe.  I had to make myself stop watching the news.  However, when FOX news did a documentary on the Battle of Fallujah and I saw my brother doing the Marine thing, I was beside myself.

The third tour was just as nerve racking.  I mean, come on, the more you put yourself in harms way, the more the odds of something happening go up.  I know he was in charge of over 300 successful operations during that time.  But, thankfully, I wasn't aware of that fact until after he came home.  And on my 31st birthday, I got the best gift ever.  My brother was home safe and sound.  I have thanked God everyday for that blessing.

Kenny was then transferred to Amphibious Assault Schools Battalion in California.  Molding the next generation of Amphibious Marines is now his job.  Not to sound bias, but he is damn good at his job.  I have never seen someone so dedicated to every facet of the definition of Marine.  Honor and integrity are the rules he lives by.  Kenneth Samuel Carman is my superhero.  He is better than any Superman, Iron Man, or Captain America, because he is a real human being doing great things.  What he does in his everyday life, truly makes a difference in our world.  I strive every single day to be just as honorable as my brother.  There are no words to express just how truly proud I am to be his sister.  My hero, my Marine; SSGT. Kenneth S. Carman!

Graduation from boot camp Oct. 26, 1997

Identity Crisis

Its as if one is standing on a hill watching a train barrel down the tracks at a high rate of speed.  You look further down the tracks and in the path of the oncoming train, you notice a car stalled and sitting in its path.  You are very much aware of the outcome of the situation and no matter how loud your scream, or how frantic you wave your arms and jump up and down, nothing can get the attention of the engineer to stop the collision.  But what if there was more than just you standing on that hill.  What if there were thousands of people screaming, jumping, and waving?  The engineer may not notice one soul....but he cannot ignore the pleading of thousands.

Ask anyone not of this country to define an American.  They will probably tell you that Americans are loud, patriotic, think their country is the best in the world.  Damn straight!  We earned that right.  We fought tooth and nail to become what and who we are.  No one told us or gave us permission to be our own country and not a single soul made us what we are.  Not a single soul, but thousands.  A group of people drew a line in the sand and said NO MORE.  They rallied together and defeated a world superpower improvising, adapting, and overcoming great odds along the way.  They also laid the foundation for a great democratic, capitalistic, republic.

When the Continental Congress met to decide exactly what type of government we were going to have, and of course like most governmental decisions, it took many days of debate and compromise to reach a decision.  Benjamin Franklin emerged and someone asked him what kind of government were we going to have.  His reply was, "We have given you a republic...if you can keep it."  That statement rings with prophecy.

We have lost our identity.  Americans have compromised ourselves to the point that trying to read the mere definition of "American" is like looking through your grandma's bifocal glasses; completely blurry and staring at it too long will make you dizzy.

 The Constitution, like the Bible, has been manipulated and interpreted to support or damn any argument for the sake of winning said argument.  All of the power that was given to the states so they could govern themselves, has been taken away piece by piece.  Which is exactly what our founding fathers didn't want.  The federal government was suppose to be a guide for the states, not a sole ruling power.  Ya know..."checks and balances."  The term itself is an illusion.  Whatever the political party the president is...the congressional majority will be the opposite.  So no decisions ever get made, they just keep getting bounced from the house to the senate like ping pong balls.  The people that we elect to represent us in the federal government have made it a life long career.  Example of this is Senator Strom Thurmond who served 48 years as a senator.  Hell the president can only serve 8 years at the most because we are afraid they will become a dictator.  I believe that our fear is misplaced.  After awhile, they become more focused on how to get re-elected than actually helping the people that put them there.  They're maybe only a handful that actually represent their people.  Corruption, selfishness, and the appetite for power is rampant like a cancer and the American people have such a low approval rating for congress...its as if they are almost obsolete.

If you think about it, Benjamin Franklin was right..."if we can keep it."

The parallels between present day America and ancient Rome are scary.  The Roman senate ended up being obsolete and then being ruled by a dictatorship.  Caesar made it so the people were almost totally reliant on their government to provide for them.  Roman government was slowly chipped away, until it imploded on itself. That's exactly what is happening to us.  Kind of like watching a train wreck.

We compromise who we are constantly.  Sure we will stand up and draw a line in the sand.  However, if that line upsets a small group, we erase the line, and then ask where they would like for it to be.  A good example   of this is when certain states vote every year on what their official language is going to be...English or Spanish.  Really??  Americans speak English.  You want to live in this country, learn to speak the language.  If I moved to Saudi Arabia, I would be expected to learn Arabic in order to communicate there.  Not waiting to see if the Kingdom is going to change their language just to accommodate me.

Sometimes I feel like I am that one soul on the hill.  My hope is that the majority of the United States wants to be who we were founded to be.  We are a great nation, but we are a fragile one as well.  The sacrifices that those who have come before us have made in order to build this amazing idea that is the United States will be for nothing if we lose who we are.  There is still time to stop this train wreck.

They Obviously Didn't Read the Manual AKA The Walking Dead

I've been watching Walking Dead.  Granted, I have not seen them all, and only watch them when the husband does.  However, there are a few insanities that I can't help but point out.

First of all, if you have not seen the show, let me summarize the ENTIRE series. 

People get infected with some sort of virus.  The side effects of said virus are: turning into a zombie, craving human flesh, walking with a limp, "Summer" teeth (summer here summer there), patchy baldness, hives, heartburn, psoriasis, bleeding of the gums, diarrhea, swelling of the feet or hands, low sex drive...well you get the idea.
I would love to say that those of the lucky few human beings that haven't been zombiefied, ban together to preserve humanity, but honey, that just ain't the case.  They DO seem to end up in the same spot which is some farm located in Georgia at the corner of "Can we keep her Pa?" and "You got a purty mouth."
 However, NONE of them stay together.  Someone is constantly walking off to be alone with their thoughts.  REALLY?  You are an endangered species with blood thirsty zombies always wandering around in the woods and you wander off alone?!?  Did you forget, you're the food?  When said idiot does end up becoming a Scooby snack, I love how there is always a gun shot heard by the group at the farm (because they had to make sure ole dude had a fighting chance), and they send ONE person out to investigate. They obviously didn't get the memo about safety in numbers.
Then, there is this kid named Carl who's age is 10 to 12 years old.  His father is the "leader" of this rag tag group of survivors and his mother had an affair with some other guy in the group and is carrying his child. So if the fact that zombies are trying to kill him hasn't fucked this kid up, his dysfunctional family will.  Carl's parents seem to not give a shit about him, because they never know where he is or what he is doing on a farm surrounded by zombies.  When the zombies do show up, they are always telling this kid to stay in the house and he NEVER does.  I believe that if he were mine, I would've either duck taped this kid to the bed or chained him up somewhere.  Kid needs Ritalin. Good thing they let Carl walk around with a gun on his hip, Lord knows he's gonna need it to protect himself.

All of these people are either living in the farmhouse or camping in a FIELD next to the house.  Did they set up a defensive perimeter and post roving patrols to ensure the safety of their loved ones?  Hell no.  They didn't even dig a moat.  I mean its a farm! Dude must have some barbed wire and fencing in the barn.  Oh that's right...they can't get into the barn because crazy Farmer John has packed it with zombies plum full to the rafters because he believes God can cure them.  Even though the survival of the human race is in jeopardy, racist Farmer John has an issue with his daughter having a relationship with the Asian-American man, camping out at the farm.  So if the writers painting Farmer John as a God fearing hillbilly wasn't enough, lets make him a racist as well.  Because apparently...all of us southerners are that way.

The last episode of season 2 was quite humorous.  The farm was attacked by a horde of roaming zombies.  Apparently zombies are like birds and migrate south for the winter.  Three or four of the main characters get eaten, which you knew was going to happen and damned if they didn't burn down the barn.  The rest of them speed off in vehicles, leaving one chick behind, not knowing if she is still alive or not.  I guess that was the hook for season 3...I have no idea what the hell else it could be.  All survivors rendezvous at some car parked on a freeway packed full of abandoned cars.  Now logic would dictate that since all Wal-Marts and 7-11's are now out of business due to lack of employees, that one would more than likely scavenge all of the abandoned cars for any supplies and syphon any gas for the vehicles they now travel in.  Oh hell no!  They even stopped and had a 15 minute conversation about how they need to keep on living for their future or some shit!  Well they speed off.  Of course...SURPRISE SURPRISE...they run out of gas and are now stranded at some ruins that look like they have been left over from the war of 1812 where after they hear walking through the woods, have another 15 minute conversation about some moral dilemma  the leader had with killing a guy.  Did they quiet down and make like holes in the ground to avoid detection by potential zombie attack...again OH HELL NO, they had a damn bonfire blazing and were yelling at each other like an episode of Jerry Springer. 

Then it ended.  Damn!  Now I gotta wait until next season to see what happens.

The Huge Step to Marking Time

I took a huge personal step.  I moved to Chapin, South Carolina from my safety net of Richmond, Kentucky six months ago.  I would love to say that I had this dream where a pink alligator sat down next to me on a log in the middle of an enchanted swamp and not only explained the meaning of life to me in great detail, but also that the Wade family must move to South Carolina or the space time continuum would implode and end all life in the known universe.  However, that wasn't the case.  Darren, (the husband), got a better job offer.  (FYI I really liked my bullshit explanation better)

Why do I call Richmond, Kentucky my safety net you may ask?  I have spent most of my life there.  I know everything there is to know about my town.  I can tell you every street and every hangout and who that giant black man is that sits on his lawn mower and rotates from major intersection to major intersection singing and waving either wearing a giant sombrero or a Santa outfit advertising various businesses, law offices, or political candidates.   If you have a wreck, I can tell you which cops would show up to help, which EMT would be there to patch you up, who is going to be working at the hospital when you get there, and who the Coroner is if the occasion calls for it. 

Bottom line: I love my comfortable burrow so much, that I never take risks unless pushed.  As in pushed, I mean with such force it could break Earth's gravity and orbit the moon.  I also had this overwhelming guilt and insane compulsion that I was required to stay and take care of my Dad and a set of grandparents.  Also, keep the home fires burning.  This stemmed from my brother Kenny leaving for the USMC and war, Mom leaving for Indiana and her new life, and Brett leaving for the USAF and war. 

The guilt waned slightly after the Touched by an Angel moment with Dad as he told me to get my head out of my ass because he was a grown man and didn't need looking after. (He still calls me 8 times a day on average.)

My Mom, in all of her exquisite, adorable bluntness, pointed out the fact that Kenny had been gone from Kentucky since 1997, she had been living in Indiana for 7 years, and I was the only one still at base camp.

The guilt vanished completely with a Jerry Springer, confrontation, that had a dash of Dr. Phil, Oprah, 2 cups of Ripley's Believe it or Not, 4 sticks of Heartbreak Ridge, baked in the grandparents oven at 400 degrees for an hour.  I would go into more detail, but that ship sailed long ago, hit an iceberg and sank off the coast of Canada.  You might have seen it on Fox News.

At this point I am out of guilt and excuses.  The job induced move and the grandparent relationship meltdown has actually been a great growing up tool for me.  I feel brave and free for the first time, like we are finally free to live our lives. Of course, I get homesick from time to time and I have to put on my big girl panties and climb out of a depression every now and then.  That will diminish with time.  It has to, because we are just marking time here in South Carolina for a couple of years.  We have BIG plans and BIG dreams.  The next stop for this Wade family is Australia.  Home of kangaroos, cricket, the Dog on the Tucker box, and the birthplace of Darren J. Wade (aka The Husband).

Cast of Colorful Characters (original post June 9, 2009)

Where to being? So much has happened since the last blog. I guess I could start where I left off with Tenant Smoothy from my previous blog entitled, "Oh...My Bust."

Well I didn't have to evict ole Tenant Smoothy after all. He was arrested that night after being shot. Now before you react with, *GASP* OMG, its actually quite humorous as to the circumstances in which this went down. He was selling drugs, someone tried to sell him bad drugs and he threw the guy out. Well that guy got pissed, pulled out his gun and proceeded to do a perfect imitation of the Star Wars Stormtrooper effect. If you are not familiar with that, let me explain. Its where a Stormtrooper fires a million times and hits nothing. In this case, the man fired 5 in the door, 2 in the back wall, 1 in the bedroom door, one through the windowsill, and Tenant Smoothy got hit by a ricochet in the elbow. There were others in the apartment as well and not one of them was hit. Needless to say Tenant Smoothy will be gone a very very long time. Upon hearing the news, it made me think of the flight attendant SNL skit, "Buh Bye...buh bye now....buh....bye." Tenant Smoothy is just one of the many colorful characters on this street.

Another of the colorful characters is an older lady, who rides in a motorized wheel chair, and there is nothing wrong with her....physcially. Miss P. is her name. You can see her driving around at maximum warp, cigarette in one hand, one leg crossed underneath her to make you think she has one leg, bumming and stealing anything she can get her hands on. She actually doesn't live on Turpin itself, but around the corner on another street. I have witnessed Miss P, drive her chair up to one of my tenant's apartment, jump out of her chair, run up to knock on the door, then quick as hell, dive back into her chair before he can get to the door. Everyone knows her game, but it is hilarious to watch. One afternoon, apparently Miss P. decidied that she needed a cat. So she steals one from another tenant. Now she could have gotten away with it, however, Miss P needed cat food. So instead of buying it like everyone else, she goes back to the person she stole the cat from and asks if she can have some cat food for her cat. Of course this started World War III between the two and I had to play the United Nations Diplomat to ensure peace ensued. The peace treaty consisted of, "Miss P., give the woman her PUSSY cat back and go find your own PUSSY cat. Didn't your momma ever tell you its rude to steal someone else's PUSSY cat off of their BIG deck?" So the PUSSY cat was returned to its rightful owner and this ushered in a new era of peace LOL. Well at least for about 2 hours. Unfortunately, Miss P just moved out yesterday. Coincidentally the neighbors dog is also missing.

Another main character in this insanity is the local drunk. D.R. is his name and 4 day drinking binges are his game. Anything can happen. I was chatting with one of my tenants, when all of the sudden, a house full of furniture goes flying out of the door of D. R.'s apt piece by piece. He poked his head out of the door, shaking his finger at the furniture and yelling, "Keep your damn ass out of my house and don't ever come back!" I turned to my tenant with a mixture of confusion and amusement and asked, "Who the hell is D.R. throwing out?" My tenant giggled and replied, "No one. He is completely alone. This has been going on since 7 am this morning."
I decided that watching D. R. was probably going to be worth my while, so I decided to visit with my tenant a little longer and enjoy a nice tall glass of iced tea.
My waiting paid off. D. R. then proceeded to lug all of his shit back into his house while yelling, "If I catch the son of a bitch that threw my stuff out into the road I am gonna whip his goddamm ass."
He continued by having a very intense political debate with his empty lawn chair, yelled for some "crack whore" to quit smoking crack in his bedroom, threatened to kill the next "sommmabitch" that rings his "goddamm doorbell" that doesn't exist on these apartments, and dumping gallons and gallons of water on a non existant fire in the parking lot. So from what I took from all of this was that D.R. did a bit of spring cleaning, there is a strict "no crack smoking" rule for his bedroom, the conflict in the middle east can easily be solved with 30 gallons of Heaven Hill Whiskey and an empty lawn chair, D. R. is not a big advocate for water conservation, and my tenant makes about the best damn glass of iced tea I have had in a long time.

In amongst these characters is an elderly gentleman that drives a very small, white, pickup truck, with a handicapped tag hanging from the rearview who drives up and down Turpin 30 or more times a day. We have lovingly named this man, "Mr. Pervert". The story that I have been told by "Wiki" (Wiki is what I call my tenant who has lived down there for 12 years and knows everything about everybody...see previous blog) is that a few years ago Mr. Pervert was down on the street trying to get him a piece of ass. Mr. Pervert did indeed score that night as well as the chick giving him "geriatric oral therapy" when she proceeded to rob him for everything he had. SO I guess this is kind of one of those ghost stories where it ends in...And to this day the poor man can be seen driving up and down the road looking for the hooker that stole his heart as well as his wallet.

Between the cast of characters on the street and the heat, the insanity grows in leaps and bounds. If you are ever in town, give me a buzz, bring your lawn chair and a cooler, and come on down. 

Oh...MY BUST (orginal post March 11, 2009)

If you have read my other blogs, then you know what I do for a living. If not, here is a short recap. I own a property management company. Some of my properties are in a very run down part of my fair city and lets just say....active. **Please note that the names of some of the individuals involved have been changed to protect...well who knows.**
The weather for the past 2 weeks have been beautiful here in Richmond, Kentucky. Plants are starting to sprout from the ground, trees are budding, birds are singing, drug dealing down on Turpin is booming. This also means that I am either calling the police or running around like a headless chicken.
Last week, which was the first of the month, I decided that I was tired of chasing down everyone for their rent. I opened a PO Box at our local UPS store so my tenants could just drop their rent off at a central location. This required me to make a flyer, explaining in great detail where, what, how, and why they need to use this box. The second step in this endeavour required me to take the flyer's and deliver them to each and every tenant on the street and answer any questions about this new procedure. While passing out said flyers all hell broke loose.
As I approached one of my buildings, I noticed a black car that was involved in an incident the week before. That incident is sooo recockulous, (because it goes beyond ridiculous) that it absolutely does not deserve to be retold. I walked up the rusty metal stairs of one of the buildings and knocked on the door of "Tenant Smoothy". The door flies open and this guy, who was not the tenant, just stares at me. I cleared my throat and explained to the gentleman who I was and that he needed to give this flyer to "Tenant Smoothy". He snatched the flyer out of my hand and slammed the door in my face. I thought...yep, here we go. Since I didn't recognize the very welcoming and warm gentleman, I decided to go down to the apartment below and ask that tenant if he knew who the other guy was. The tenant that I was asking this information has lived on the street for 12 years and knows everybody and everything. I like to call him the "The Wiki of Turpin Dr." I step into "Wiki"'s apartment for the information exchange. He had never seen that guy before. That started to worry me a bit. All of the sudden "Wiki"'s ceiling starts rumbling, the fixtures begin to shake, screaming and yelling can be heard from the apartment above. I peeked my head out of the door and looked at the balcony above. I couldn't see anything but there was a hellacious fight going on. I immediately grabbed my phone and called the good ole Police. The dispatcher asks me how many people are there and I reply, "I am assuming more than one." She then asks me if they are armed. I reply, "I am sorry, I didn't have a chance to ask them nor do I plan to. All I know is that its a big fight, probably over drugs and it would be wise for you all to get down here before someone gets shot." She tells me they will send a unit. Now I know what you are thinking, "Damn...did you have to be such a smart ass to the police?" Let me explain...if its on Turpin...they don't take it seriously. Therefore, my attitude towards the police department.
Well hell, "Tenant Smoothy" pulls up and gets out of a car. He looks upstairs, then looks at me. I yell, "WTF is goin on?" He replies, "I don't know," and takes off running up the stairs. A few minutes pass and 4 cruisers pull up. Now at this point, "Wiki" and I are giggling like 2 little kids. Two of the officers go up to the apartment where the altercation was taking place and two stayed down on the ground. I recognized one of the police officers as one who had worked with my dad before he retired from the PD. He looked at me and gave me that "Whasup" head nod. I just smiled back.
One of the younger cops, who I will call, "Officer Needstogetagrip", comes down from the apartment upstairs with the flyer snatcher, door slammer. That guy has a huge whelp on the side of his head and his chin was split. I glanced over to "Wiki" and said "DAMN." "Wiki" giggled and replied, "HA HA HA asshole got his ass whooped." The officers proceeded to do the field sobriety test. Then, "Officer Needstogetagrip" comes over to me and asks if I saw who "whooped him". I stated to the officer that I didn't see the fight...that I heard it. Then one of the kids playing in the street yells, "THERE IS SOMEONE CLIMBIN OUT OF THE WINDOW!!!" So the cops take off behind the building. I peek my head around the corner and see this black gentlemen, pants hanging down, boxers exposed, running like he was qualifying for the Drug Running Olympics. The cops are running around like Keystone Cops. Needless to say...they didn't catch him.
Then this crazy woman, who likes to stand out on the street and preach, and also calls me the right hand of Satan because I house these people, pulls up and gets out of her car and walks over to the insanity. I am thinking, "Oh this is perfect". She starts yelling some sort of religious crap and yelling at "Tenant Smoothy". Apparently crazy woman is "Tenant Smoothy's" baby's momma and heard on her police scanner that the police were at his house. She decided to come check it out.
I yelled at her to get in her car and go home. She turns around and yells, "GOD BLESS YA." Over and over as she gets in her car and leaves. "Officer Needstogetagrip" totally ignores me when I try to tell him that the black car, that was involved in the incident a week before was around right before they pulled up. So I decided to tell the older officer, the one that used to work with dad, about it.
So the crowd that has gathered stated to disperse. I walked across the street to continue handing out my flyers. A couple of the officers were still around. "Officer Needstogetagrip" approached me and said, "You need to get into your fucking car and leave." I was taken back a bit and replied, "Excuse me?" He said, "You are wandering around here meddling in every ones business and you need to leave." Well that got my blood boiling. I looked at him dead in the eye and said, "Listen, I am the fucking Property Manager. It is my business to meddle in other peoples business." Then the older officer tells him to back off.
Now I had to tell you that story to tell you this one.
"Tenant Smoothy" assured me that he dropped off his rent at the UPS store. Well my husband happens to work there as his second job. I called my husband and he tells me that no one has dropped anything off in the past 2 days. So "Tenant Smoothy" is lying to me. I decided that I need to confront him. I drove down to the properties and saw 4 cars and 5 or 6 people, including "Tenant Smoothy" standing around. I then witnessed 2 cars pull up and little white baggies and money exchange hands. So I called the police. They drove by and then kept driving. They didn't stop. Well I am not a complete idiot and I am pretty sure that I am not bulletproof. I decided that I will call my dad and ask him to come with me to confront this guy. He said that he would meet me down there. Dad pulls up and I hopped into his truck and we proceeded to head down the street. Dad asks me, "Now who is the guy that we need to confront?" All I got out was "Tenant Smoothy"'s first name and dad completed the last name. He stopped the truck and looked over at me and said, "Jessica why in the hell did you rent to him?" I said, "Dad I have to abide by the Fair Housing Laws." Dad replies, "Do you know who he is?" I shook my head. Dad said, "Jessica, I put him in prison...not jail... prison 3 times and he has "So and So"'s (another officer dad used to work with) bullet in him." I hung my head, took a deep breath and said, " Oh....my bust. I didn't know." He said, " Well now you do. We need to get him out of there."
You can't make this shit up. So luckily "Tenant Smoothy" hasn't paid his rent so I can evict him. I will let you know how that goes.

Extreme Moped, Check Your Pants, Cat Defecation Habits, and Parking Wars (original post Dec. 8, 2008)

Since having recovered from the insanity that is my existence, I thought now would be a good time to share all that has taken place in the past few months in the realm of property management.

The latter part of summer down at the properties..aka hell... turned into be complete craziness. I was sitting on the porch of a tenant on mine who has lived down there for near on 12 years, having an iced tea, chatting about this and that. All of the sudden this very, large, huge, enormous man comes riding up the street on a moped. The back end of that thing was squished so far down, that I would say it was maybe an inch off the pavement and that's being nice. This triggered a song in my head, that try as I might, I couldn't help myself, "Fat man on a little bike." Not to be confused with Chris Farley's "Fat Man in a Little Coat". Now everyone down there knows this rotund individual. I do too. So as he went past, we waved. All of the sudden we hear this loud BAM! SKID! and a voice yelling HOLY SHIT! So we jumped up from the porch and ran down the street. Apparently the fire hidrant jumped out and attacked the moped. You have to watch those fucking things....tricky buggers. It was a hell of a fight...however, the moped lost. The moped was in pieces all over the pavement and the dude was 20 feet down the street lying on his face struggling to pull himself up. As I approached the scene, I gasped, covered my mouth and exclaimed, "Oh my god!" Well one of the other property managers, who actually lives down on the street, was sitting on his porch and saw the whole thing happen, had gotten to the drama first. After my, "Oh my god!" he says, " Damn man, are you alright?" The guy says yes he is okay so the other property manager replies, " I have never seen a fat mother fucker fly that far." Of course that took the emotional sting out of the whole situation and I burst out laughing. So we helped him up and over to the porch that I was visiting to get him cleaned up. The poor man had scrapes and blood everywhere. Well one of my tenants feels as though she needs to play combat nurse and clean the wounds for him. In she goes to her apartment and emerges with witch hazel (not to be confused with the witch from the Bugs Bunny cartoons). She pours it on his scrapes and he screams the most horrid scream I have ever heard. She informs him that, "Oh suck it up! When it burns like that ya know its a workin." That's when I took my que to leave and thanked my tenant for the iced tea, made sure the man was ok and left.

I must say that now that the weather has gotten significantly colder, people tend to stay indoors, which means the crack dealing that had taken place outside has moved in the house. So whereas the amount of "outdoor entertainment" has decreased, the amount of domestics has increased LOL. As well as the amount of homeless people I find in my vacant units.

Discovering a homeless person in a vacant unit usually isn't a big deal. I tell them to leave and that they cannot stay there anymore and they move on with no worries or flack. Now on and off for about 3 weeks I have been finding that someone must be staying in this unit because the door is open (they must have a key because I dead bolt lock it) and the light is on in the back bedroom. So one day I decided to go and check on this particular unit. I go back there and low and behold the damn door is unlocked. I barge in there cursing out loud, "Dammit! WTF? Every time I go back there some SOB has been in here blah blah blah!" I walk back to the bedroom to turn the light off and as soon as I stick my arm in the room someone jumps out from behind the door, hits my arm, and runs out of there like a bat out of hell. I scream like a big titted bimbo in a Jason movie, my heart is pounding in my chest and now I feel the need to check my pants. I immediately run out and call the police....they never show up. Don't get me started on that one, that's a whole other novel in itself. After waiting for an hour and a half I decided to lock it up and leave.

The next week, my dear friends from Australia came in to visit for Thanksgiving. One is security at the Aussie Embassy in DC and his spouse works in Aussie intelligence at DC. Now I know you are thinking to yourself, " How in the hell do you know these people?" Well they are friends Darren played indoor cricket with in Canberra. I was telling stories to Mr. Security about what I do down at the properties and I told him what has been going on there recently. I expressed concerns about going down there to check out that vacant unit because of what happened the last time I was down there. Now I am not an easily intimidated individual, but that scared the absolute piss out of me. Well Mr. Security informs me that he is going with me and takes his Glock, his diplomatic credentials and off we go. Diplomatic credentials were an absolute must. He figured if he had to shoot anyone, that get out of jail free card would be paramount. Anyway, we pull up and sure enough the damn door is unlocked. He goes in, gun drawn, creepin around, doing all that tactical shit and didn't find anyone in there. I can't believe that the situation has deteriorated to the point of Jess has to take a body guard and arm herself now. As the Marines say, "Improvise, adapt, and overcome."

Yesterday I was down at the properties trying to collect rent. I would have better luck assisting the federal government in finding Osama Bin Laden. One of the other property managers and I were standing out on the street talking. A cat takes off across the street just as a car is heading down the hill. I immediately turned my head praying that the poor thing makes it across ok. The car screeches to a halt. I open my eyes and ask the property manager if the cat made it. Well thank god it did. One of my tenants that really and truly needs to be smacked, and I mean that in a good Christian way LOL (no I am not one that believes in organized religion...wherever I am going, you are riding shotgun), opens her intelligent mouth and says, " I really wish the car had hit that fuckin cat!" Well that sends the property manager in frenzy because its her cat. She screams, " You need to watch your fuckin mouth!" Well my tenants husband, who is also an idiot, gets into it. He screams and I mean screams, "Well keep your fuckin cats from shittin on my porch!" The property manager shoots back, "How the hell do you know those are my fuckin cats shittin on your porch?" He says that he will get the shit tested to make sure that are her cats. So after listening to about as much of this intelligent display I can take I say, " Do you people hear yourselves? This is over cats. Get a damn grip. There are other things in the world more devestating then cat shit." So my tenant's husband continues to yell. I tell him to walk away. Well he keeps on. So I inform him in a more direct method, " This is your last chance. Walk away and get your ass up those stairs of I am calling the police and you lot are out. Merry fucking Christmas." So he turns around and leaves.
I continue to collect more rent and 15 minutes has passed since the "Cat Shit" incident. I walk out of one of the apartments and I see two of my other tenants across the street in each others faces screaming about parking spaces. You know, they are almost in a knock down, drag out, tag team wrestling match over parking spaces. I walk over there and yell, "WTF is going on here!?" Of course I get well he did this and he did that bullshit. During all of this I am thinking, "Is this the day of mediocre and foolish events??" Well my bullshit meter has gone red line by this point. I can't take too much more of this. So I advise these two upstanding citizens that I will also make there Christmas real fucking merry as well if they don't stop with the horseshit, get a job, get a real life, or a hobby. I think they could tell it wasn't a good time LOL! The argument immediately came to a grinding halt. And in the words of the immortal Monty Python, " And there was peace throughout the land. YAY!"