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June 1st – June 30th

August 23, 2007

So, here’s the first part of the rollercoaster ride to hell. My mom, in her infinite intelligence, paid for and put me in a so-called “boarding home”. I don’t know why that phrase brings up images of foster homes and dying kids, but that’s pretty much it. It was basically just a 4-bedroom house in the upper-end of town, with like, 7 people living in it. Each one paid a good portion of their income to the “owners”, a rather balancing black, uh, lesbian couple. Nothing against that. But what got me is how there was one nice, kind woman, who was always being “bitched up” by the other one, the big black bitch. Unless the Big Black Bitch was out of the house, the nice one was always rude, I guess to show off for her honey. And the big problem was, the Big Black Bitch was legally retarded (just guessing). Seriously. That whole house was, basically, something those people didn’t deserve. They have no idea how to run anything around there. They run the air conditioner with the windows open. They open the windows during the hot day and close them at night. They spray carpet-cleaning foam on the ground, vacuum it all up immediately, and wonder why their vacuums are broken.

And of course, they weren’t willing to take any advice from anyone “below them”, e.g. someone paying them “rent”. Rent was 600 bucks a month to live in a genuine shithole of a house, and get fed dry (cooked, with no toppings) rice in the morning, half a Ramen brick of soup for lunch, and meat-on-the-bone for dinner. Do you honestly think I was going to live with that? And them calling the “po po” out on me for turning off the air conditioner with the windows and doors hanging wide open? Yeah, the fucking police. They called the police on me. Yep, I got the fuck out of that shithole. And because they’re lesbians (like my mom, openly), my mom sides with them all the time. That hasn’t even gotten to the part where they promised they’d help me get welfare and food stamps and whatnot, then saying “Go get them yourself” without giving me any information – then telling my mom that they told me everything. I hope that whole house burns down. Oh, the other residents? Mentally retarded people (no, serious, this time) and old folks. Talk about exploitation…

There were, of course, some things there that I took for granted, that I certainly learned in the next month weren’t easy to get. Like, a place to put my stuff – a whole room where I could keep, uh… 3… 4… 5… 6 computers… all on a wireless network. 7, if you count their eMachines computer I sometimes hijacked for DVD-encoding. And they had DirecTV which played real nice with my TiVo. Oh – 8 computers, if you count the 225mhz pfSense box that bridged the two internet connections (one from a neighbor which I happily cracked the 2wire WEP code of). I guess that was “the life”.

It was kind of a transition from the carefree life of living with my mom, into the incomparably disgusting slum of a life I ended up transitioning into in the coming few weeks…

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