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!"

Sunday Brunch With Elvis (Original post Aug. 18, 2008)

I received a phone call from my Nan inviting me to concert at the Belterra Casino. She informed me that there is going to be an Elvis impersonator there and apparently he is soooo good, that he is the only one Priscilla has endorsed. I ask her, "So Nanny, which Elvis is it?" She replied, "What do you mean?" I said, "Well Nan is it the young cute Elvis or the old overweight, rhinestone jumpsuit, drug addict Elvis?" Nan quickly replied, "Sweet Jesus Jessica, I am sure its not the latter."

I am going to be honest with you, I am not an Elvis fanatic. However, my Nan, bless her 78 year old heart, loves him and thought I needed a girls night out. So I picked up my Aunt Donna and off we go to the Belterra. We meet Nan and my Aunt Karen for a little gambling before the show.

So now the time has come for the "Event of a Lifetime" as the poster read. We end up sitting at a VIP table with 5 other white haired ladies with Elvis songs as their ring tones on their phones, and their purses that light up with Elvis flashing in colors of green and red. I look around and my Aunt Donna whispers in my ear, "Jess I believe you are the youngest person in here."

To explain why we are at a VIP table: Basically Nan spends most of her time at the Belterra having an excellent run. She wins lots of money and spends lots of money there. They always have her room reserved for her even if she doesn't call before she comes down. I told her that when she died they would probably erect a plaque on the wall outside of the room that reads, "The Ruth Ann Carman Ogden Suite".

Others have starting to pile in at this point. At the "Celebrity VIP Table", here comes this gentleman pushing a very frail, little old lady in a wheelchair. I am thinking to myslef, "Who in the hell is that? She must be someone, because she is sitting at the CELEBRITY table." It was as if my Aunt Donna could read my mind. She leans over and says, "She must have dated Elvis, hence the reason she is at THAT table." I just died laughing.

The lights dim. This curtain behind the band starts twinkling with thousands of stars. The band walks out on stage and women start whistling and clapping. After the band is in position, the theme from 2001 A Space Odyssey starts playing. The suspense is building and building as the music gets more climactic. Then all of the sudden..BOOOM. Out pops Elvis. Its slightly overweight, skin tight white rhinestone Elvis. Well holy shit you would have thought it was actually him by the reaction of the women in that concert hall. They sreamed and cheered and whistled. I look over at Nan who is standing up with both arms raised in the air, like she was at a Van Halen concert of something. I couldn't stop giggling.

Well as the concert progressed, oh Elvis did every pelvic thrust, ass clench, arm waving dance possible. He walks over to our side of the stage and turns around, showing us his ass, and then bends over. Well I could hear Nan exclaim, "Well Sweet Jesus!" My Aunt Karen points to his ass and says, "Look Jess! Look! I don't believe he is wearing any underwear." Of course that just makes one look harder. I almost belived her until, through the white skin tight pants, you could see a white triangle above the crack of his ass. So I point to Karen and yell, "Holy shit he is wearing a thong!!" Then he gets these scarves and wipes the sweat from his brow and these women come running up to the stage and he drapes each one of them with a sweat drenched scarf. He obviously runs out of brow sweat and proceeds to wipe his chest and his underarms with the scarf and gives it to a lady. I yelled, "EWWWWW!" My Aunt Karen tells me that Elvis used to do that with the ladies. Well I looked at her and said, "Karen...that isn't Elvis. Its some dude. That is just sick." She laughed and said, "I didn't think of it like that LOL!"

So that pretty much sums up my Sundy Brunch with Elvis.

Three Ring Circus!!! COME ON DOWN!! (orginal post July 17, 2008)

Welcome back to another episode of "My Three Ring Circus" or "Adventures in Property Management."

This month has been the most active month on this particular street for a while now.

I was down at the properties on the third of this month, hustling to get as much rents as possible before they blew it on booze, drugs and fireworks. While standing out in the parking lot of one of the buildings I was chatting to one of my tenants and we were laughing about this and that, this vehicle pulls up and 2 individuals (who look very out of place for this part of town) are sitting in their vehicle waiting on someone. Then they obviously see who they are looking for and one gets out of the vehicle goes over to a guy pulls out money the other guy pulls out a lovely small white package wrapped in plastic wrap. Both items exchange hands and the other dude gets in his truck and leave. I shook my head and rolled my eyes thinking, "Its another day in paradise."

The tenant I was talking to had her back to the entire incident and didn't see anything. So after the incident was completed I looked at her and asked her if she knew who one of the individuals involved with this "perfect example of free enterprise and capitalism". She said she didn't know his name but knew where he lived and asked why I was asking. I said, "Because he just did a drug deal right on your lawn there in front of your kids." She pointed at the guy and asked, "That one right ther?" I nodded my head and the next thing I know, she starts taking off strutting her ass across the street while yelling, " OH HELL NO!" She then proceeds to take off her flip flop and beat the shit out of this guy. With every swing she says, "You. (whack) stupid (whack) mother (whack) fucker (whack) doing (whack) that (whack) in front of (whack) my kids (whack) you should be ashamed of yourself...get the fuck on." The man is screaming like a little girl and takes of running down the street. Of course I am doubled over laughing my ass off. It was like a scene out of Friday. I know that some of you are thinking, "OMG you are laughing at someone getting the shit kicked out of them because of drugs...why didn't you call the police...blah blah blah." Thats easy...they will send a unit about 20 minutes after you call or I LOVE IT when they transfer you to narcotics and you leave a message because there is never anyone there to answer your phone call. Its a one man battle and its just me.

Another lovely day I was sitting on the front porch of one of the apartments talking to another one of my tenants. We were drinking coffee and shooting the shit about this and that. I hear this reeeeeeerrrrr reeeeeeerrrr and I look left and right up and down the street. And I see this woman with a cat on a leash dragging it down the street. Now I continue with my conversation with my tenant not thinking much about it because this place is border line INSANE. She gets a bit closer and by that time my tenant has noticed this woman and we have just paused mid conversation to watch this woman. Her hair is stringy and nasty with an ashen face and her clothes of course didn't match. I have never met an insane individual who had any color coordination skills ever. That poor cat is being dragged behind her yelling REEEEERRR REEEEEERRR and finally the cat has said , "Ta hell with this." and firmly digs his back feet into the ground. The lady tugs and tugs on the leash and the cat just growls. She turns around and bends down towards that cat. Points her finger in its face and yells, " I TOLD YOU TO HEEL DAMN YA!" Then calmy turns around and continues to drag this poor cat up the street. Now both of my eyebrows are arched as high as they can go, eyes are like saucers, mouth totally agape. I turn to my tenant and say, " Who in the hell is that?" He looks dead at me with this faint hint of a grin that is the type so infectious that you find yourself grinning as well and says, "Ya know that ole boy who was shot by the po-leece awhile back?" I said, "Well yeah, but what does that have to do with this." He grins even bigger and says, "Well...thats the sister he stabbed." Well I laughed a little and said, "Oh so the whole damn family ain't right, huh?" He takes a big drink of his coffee and says, "Nope."

This week...the insanity continues. Between one tenant calling me 22 times in one day to say, "My electric is off." or calls a minute later and says, "Oh never mind, its back on." Then "Now its back off again." Another one leaving a horrid message about how her effing air isnt effing working and when the eff is it gonna be fixed and get effing over here effing now. She leaves this inspirational message on the wrong owner's phone. So I call her and tell her that Number 1 you called the wrong person, 2 don't use language like that to anyone. 3 your air conditioner was ordered last Friday. 4 I cannot control space and time to make it get here any sooner. 5 I cannot alter the tilt of the earth on its axis to make it any fucking cooler. 6 if you can't handle the fact that I am not god and I have no control then move the fuck out and take your crack head party with you. Have a great day...Click.

Then to put icing on the cake....Again I am standing in one of the parking lots chatting with one of the tenants. This guy comes up to me with a joint in his mouth and says, "Hey baby...you gotta light? I need to get my smoke on and there is nothin worse than a joint with no light." I busted out laughing in his face and took my phone out and asked if I could take a photo of him and he said sure so just as I was getting ready to take his photo...some other guy busts out of an apartment runs up to this him, smacks the joint from his lips and before the guy can retaliate, the one who smacked him said, "Dumbass do you know who that is?" and points to me. The toker says, "Nah man, I was just getting a light." The smackin dude says, "Thats the landlord fool." He looks at me and I just grin and say, "Yep thats true so why don't you take that shit and get the hell out of here before I have you thrown in jail." He appologizes profusely and runs away. That is a prime example the age old question....bravery or stupidity???

Its an uphill battle with little to no allies. Its hard being the Queen...LOL.

The $17, 584 Bath Tub (orginal post May 8, 2008)

This is the letter I sent my USMC brother today, who is current in Iraq on his third tour, explaining the events I was a witness to this afternoon, via Motomail. Its an online thing that lets you type a letter to him and they print it off and get it to him within 24 hours. This involves my wonderful grandparents...who I absolutely adore. You have to understand that my grandma has been a housewife most of her life and practically believes anything she sees on TV. My grandpa is a retired Marine 1stSgt and is as rough as they come. Anyway please enjoy....

Dear Kenny and the peeps that print this off,

This is the tale of the $17,584 bath tub. Today I was out at Granny and Pa's. They were watching Sean for me while I went to the doctor. Well while I was out there Granny said that she needed to clean up the house real quick because this guy was coming. I asked her what guy and Pa replies, "Some man that is gonna try to sell us one of those bath tubs with the door in it that has the jets and all." I said oh ok. Well low and behold here comes this really really shitty car. I mean its all ghettoed out. It pulls up and out steps this dude. This dude weighs at least 300lbs. He is wearing Bermuda shorts that are at their maximum weight limit and a Hawaiian shirt. Already I am thinking...THIS IS A SCAM right. Well he comes up on the porch and introduces himself and asks Granny if she has her brochure they sent her in the mail. Well of course Granny cant find it. So fat bastard has to go back to his car and get another one. Ole dude was huffing and puffing so much I thought, "If he has a heart attack here on the damn porch, there is NO WAY in hell I am giving him CPR." So he goes to the bathroom and measures and comes back and points to one of the tubs in the brochure and says that..this is the one that he thinks is best suited for the house. Granny immediately exclaims that OHHH thats a nice one. He says, "Yes we have it built and shipped from Europe and have it installed." Well I am sitting there enjoying my coffee. Granny says, "Ok how much are we talking about here." He says, "Well that model, taxes, shipping and installation all comes to $17,584." Well I choke on my coffee and almost have it coming out of my nose. Pa gives me that what the hell look he gives. So of course Granny says that there is no way they can afford that. But oh wait...theres more!! He tells them that they can finance it on a 15yr signature loan and that it will only be something like $123 a month. Well Pa is totally disgusted and basically turned his brain off at this point. I can see the wheels in Grannys head turning. So before she gives this shady fat bastard her social security number I say, "So you mean to tell me that when my grandpa is 90 years old this will be paid off? So what happens if they decide to move?" He replies, "Well thats beauty of it. They can take it with them." Hell I thought...I will have to bury them in it. So the dude continues on how this will ensure the fact that they will never have to go to a nursing home because this thing will be here. He asks Pa if he wants to be a burden to his granddaughter and points to me. Pa looks him dead in eye and says, "Your god damn right I do." Well I am almost on the verge of bursting out laughing and I have to get up and go into the house. In the meantime Granny is telling him our whole fucking family history. About how you are where you are and doing what you do and how I met my husband and blah bloah blah and that mom owns the house and charges them rent and so on and so on. He asks Granny what those filter things are on her cigarettes and she explains to him what they do. She tells him that she just cleans them out and uses them again. I chuckled to myself and thought, "Yeah she sits them in an empty garlic powder shaker and cleans them in Windex and she is concerned about the fucking chemicals in the cigarette doing her harm." I think...shut the hell up and make the idiot leave. So Pa comes to the rescue. He says, "Wanda that man doesnt want to hear this shit." I take this as my queue to come back out on the porch. Well I have a brace on my knee and the man looks at my brace and says, "Ya hurt ya knee?" You know, it was one of those here's your sign moments. The thought running through my head is, "Nope...just looks good with these shoes." But I told him yeah I did. So anyways dude finally gets the hint and leaves. However, he sits in his car for like 30 minutes out there in the driveway. Pa comes out on the porch and I say, "Look Pa that guy is still there." Now dude has his window down and everything...and well you know Pa...he says, "What the hell else does that idiot want?" I said SHHHH sound carries. But that old Marine in him just wont die. Finally he left. I looked at Pa and said, "For $17,000...it better give one hell of a blow job too." Pa smacked me on the arm and said, "Jessie Lynn!" Then he laughed and said, "Hell I have to agree with ya."

I thought you would totally enjoy that story. I have sat here and laughed my ass off typing this letter to you reliving the whole thing. I told mom about it on the phone and she couldnt stop laughing. Ed told Pa that if he wanted one of those so bad he would get him a 55 gallon drum and pull him around in the yard to give him that spa type feeling.

I snail mailed you a letter as well and it isnt near as entertaining as this one. Stay tuned for more episodes of Jessica's life. LOL!

I love you very much and please stay as bored as humanly possible. Stay safe...come home. I will see you soon!!!

Love,
Jess

Adventures in Property Management Episode 362 (orig post March 19,2008)

This story was just too good to keep to myself.

This past Sunday, I get a call from a tenant telling me that they have dropped their cell phone into the washing machine and would like for me to bring them a screwdriver so they can get it out of there. I told them...after a few chosen words that I would be right over.

So I get there and look in the washing machine and ask where in the hell is the phone. She said that she didn’t need it out of the washing machine, she needed a screwdriver to take the back off of her phone so it could dry out. Well I went off. I asked her if I was wearing a bell boy outfit. She replied with a very confused look...no. I asked her if there was a sign on this building that said "Four Seasons Hotel" She again replied no. So I said that this incident didn’t constitute a maintenance emergency and that she would have to pay me for coming over there on a Sunday. She then tells me to ask her sister what is wrong with the toilet.

Her sister tells me that the toilet will not flush. The other one jumps up and down and says, "Tell her why it won’t flush. Go on tell her." So of course I am on the edge of my seat in suspense at this point. The lady replies, "I think I flushed my false teeth down the toilet." I glanced at her with this WTF look and said, "What do you mean you THINK? Either you did or didn’t...there is no think." (Yeah I know...a major Jedi Master Yoda moment there.) So I explain to the dear woman that I will not be able to get a plumber over there until Monday.

Monday comes and the plumber goes over there. He comes by my office to get paid and I ask him, "Well...did you find false teeth in the toilet?" He looks at me and grins, "Hell I found both sets." Of course I just die laughing.

Today my phone rings and its the same tenant. She tells me that the plumber did indeed find her teeth and, (in a very redneck elderly accent) "You won’t believe this. Not one tooth was damaged so I have had them soaking in bleach now for the past day and I believe I can wear them by tomorrow." I was completely speechless and replied, "Well that's nice."

Tune in again next week for more Adventures in Property Management

PANDALIRIUM and Psychic Clarity!!! (orginally posted Nov. 7, 2007)

Hello all! As some of you may or may not be aware of, I am a property manager in the good ol' city of Richmond, KY. Now the properties I manage are pretty much low income and full of good people for the most part. However, every now and again you get those fruit loops that add a bit of spice in a would be ordinary day.

To start this tale off...I am having 2 apartment buildings totally redone. (Trust me, they needed it!) I receive a phone call from my dear project manager and he is in a state of total shock. He informs me that while him and a few of the other guys were in the back of the building working on 2 of the apartments, he asks one of the guys to go up front and lock up the other 2 apartments. He then hears curse word after curse word that would even make the most saltiest of sailors blush. Wondering why all the commotion, he proceeds to go to the front of the building and into the apartment where all the pandalirium is stemming from only to find a "unique" couple engaged in acts that are illegal in most states. After trying to put this horrible site out of his memory, he calls the police. Now said couple are completely trashed out of their minds and are attempting to leave at this point. So my project manager decided to try to get their demographic and personal information for the police. He proceeds to tell them that the apartment will be ready in a few weeks and if they are interested, just give him their name, social security numbers and current addresses for the application. Well frick and frack thought that was an excellent idea and divulged the information. So the police arrive and take the report. Now they call me and tell me that I need to meet them at the police station to give them names and numbers of the owners...etc. Well here I go. I am thinking the whole way down there OMFG what am I going to say to the cops. Feeling that this little story was too good to keep to myself, I immediately called my dear dear Dusty, who put me on speaker phone so Karl (her husband) could join in on the frivolity. We were laughing until we almost peed our pants.

The police tell me that in order to press charges, I need to go to the county attorney and tell them they story and give them a report number. Feeling that there are other crimes going on that could use more police attention and were more worth the tax payers dollars than this episode....I didn't go to the attorney.

My moment of psychic clarity came on this past Sunday evening. I had just gotten back from Ohio visiting relatives and was relaxing on the lounge. All of the sudden I hear numerous sirens. I mean they just kept coming. I looked to Darren and said, "I have a feeling those are for the properties." He just laughed and said nah. Well, not 15 seconds later, my mobile starts blaring. It was my maintenance people, that live at the property, informing me that one of the apartments was on fire. I just exclaimed WHAT???

Well everyone made it out ok. Apparently, one of my tenants decided to put their cigarette out in the garbage can. Not the best place for this. It caught fire. Well she comes running out on the porch screaming, so the maintenance people call 911. The first person to arrive is a police officer. He takes off up the stairs and runs at full force into the HVAC unit hanging out of the wall. He cracks his forehead on it, staggers back a couple of steps exclaiming ,"SON OF A BITCH!" He gets inside to find one of the tenants going insane and the other in the shower. He orders the insane one out of the building and yanks the other one out of the shower...completely naked out onto the porch. Well she starts screaming about how she doesn't have any clothes on and runs downstairs to another apartment to find a towel. The police officer grabs the bag and throws it outside and stomps on it. By this time 5 fire engines have shown up. All of the tenants are out in the parking lot except for one who lives underneath the apartment with the fire. She is on the phone talking to who knows telling them that she has no idea what is going on. Well needless to say all is well. No damage was done to the apartment. I wish I had a video camera up to catch that on film. It would have won an Oscar for sure.

Tune in next week children for more TALES FROM THE HOOD!!

Damn Thing (orginially posted Aug. 10,2007)

This is a tale about a man named Mike (my father) and his troubles with his towing receiver hitch.

As some of you may or may not know, my dad goes every weekend to our cabin at Lake Cumberland. Its a man made lake in southern Kentucky. In fact I believe its the 5th largest in the US. Every weekend its gets invaded by the Ohio navy or as we lovingly call them FIFOs (Fucking Idiots From Ohio).

Our tale begins one fateful day when my dad, who already owns a pontoon and a jet boat, makes the purchase of two kayaks. Him and my stepmom went kayaking in North Carolina and loved it so much they decided to purchase a couple. Dad needed to put this new type of T bar carrier for his kayaks on the back of the truck. This requires him to remove the receiver hitch on the back of the truck and install a T bar. So he is out at the house and proceeds to try to remove the one that tows the pontoon and the jet boat. He tugs and tugs...but alas the "damn thing" doesn't budge. He uses a whole can of WD-40 and beats the hell out of it with a sledge hammer. He even used a car jack...it still does not move an inch.

Dad comes walking into the office the next day...a man on a mission. He informs me of his dilemma and decides that the best course of action is to call a professional to help solve his problem. Dad calls Evans Tire, here in good ol' Richmond, KY and Mike Evans informs him that the best way to remove the receiving hitch is to take a logging chain and attach it to the hitch and a tree and drive forward and it should come right out. Now dad looks at me and says, "Yeah right...he is full of shit. I need another opinion. Who do you think I should call?" I grab the phone book and find Brockman's 4x4 (the biggest bunch of rednecks in Richmond in my opinion). I inform dad that if anyone knows how to get that "damn thing" out...they would. Dad picks up the phone and dials Brockman's. The first thing out of the mechanics mouth is, "You got a loggin chain? Hell just hook that chain up to a tree...it pulls harder than you do. It should pop that "damn thing" out of there...no problem." Well dad, having now 2 opinions from "professional rednecks" decides this is the best course of action. We proceed to drive all over town to various automotive parts shops to buy the best damn industrial strength lubracant money can buy.

All day dad goes in and out of the office to spray this lubricant on the towing hitch. Then he decides that he is ready to try and yank it out of there. Well I flip out and tell him that he needs to be careful because the last thing I want to hear is a phone call from my step mom telling me she found dad dead in the back yard with a towing hitch protruding out of his forehead. He calls me overly paranoid and off he goes. Well an hour passes and I start to worry...so I decide to ring him. He answers much to my relief and tells me, "Hell no it didn't work. I broke the logging chain in half and I think I screwed up the tree." Well at this point I am laughing my ass off. So off he goes to the lake...minus the kayaks.

Monday morning comes around and he decides to hell with the whole "damn thing". He will just have a welder cut off the "damn thing" and he will buy a whole new one. He goes out to the welding guy (who is more redneck than Brockman's and I didn't think that was possible). The guy informs him that he doesn't need a new one and he can take care of the problem. So dad says, "Hell give it a shot." A couple of hours pass and his mobile rings, "Mr. Carman...she's ready for ya. Come on out and pick her up." Off dad goes. He gets there and poof its off. He asks the guy how in the hell did he remove it. The man says (imagine a really really horrible redneck accent), "Well hell buddy. All I did was cut a hole in the back of the receiver and take a hammer and a chisel...well it scared me plum to death. I gave it a good whackin and it shot across the room faster than greased owl shit." I fall over laughing at this explanation and I thought dad was going to pee his pants he was laughing so hard. So after all of this he hooks it up and puts the kayaks on it. Off he goes to the lake today. All is well in the Carman household once again.

This is only a tiny segment in what happens in the HELP U SELL office in Richmond, KY.

After a LONG Absence

I have decided that I should probably start writing again, seeing as though I have a lot of time on my hands now.  The next blog post is going to be the old ones I have written about my exploits as a property manager in Richmond, Kentucky.  They are currently published on my MySpace page.  Since that social forum has been infested with nothing more than porn bots, I believe I can reach a higher caliber audience on this brand of media.  I will worn you though...the language and situations are not for the faint of heart.