Marika Malaea

faithful marauder + fake royal

Get Me Out Of Here

with 3 comments

SHOW YOURSELF!

No, not out of *here*

Dear New Apartment,

Much like life on other planets, I know you’re out there. I know my current apartment is made from sauce of the awesome, but the conflict resolution-hater in me wants to burn it to the ground. Plus it’s all dirty and stuff; I’d rather move than clean it up.

I used to look in shop windows with longing, remembering the days I could spend money on unnecessary bullshit. A new apartment is at the top of our Unnecessary Bullshit List, but that doesn’t stop me from humping every ‘For Rent’ sign I see. That’s why I need you, New Apartment, to reveal yourself to me. And if you could do that on the same day I win the Lottery, that would be lovely.

I’m looking for a Jesus-scale miracle. The miracles attributed to Jesus include curing fevers, leprosy, long-term bleeding, withered hands, deafness, blindness, paralysis, and ‘unspecified sickness’; he also performed successful exorcisms – driving seven demons out of Mary Magdalene (I have an idea of how that was executed) – and in many cases, he drove out evil spirits with just a word. Just one word! I hope that word was ‘apartment’, as in ‘you’re getting a new apartment very soon!’

1) I would like the evil spirits to be driven out of my building, but that’s more like an Apocalypse-sized miracle, so 2) I would like my shiny perfect miracle to come in the form of a flawless apartment; near-flawless is acceptable, too.

It needs to be in our neighborhood, since we have a neighborhood blog. It should be $200 less than what we’re paying now, and also twice as big. There should be no move-in costs, an 85-year old granny landlord who’s hard of hearing, professionally-medicated neighbors, very few stairs, tight security, and a secret crawl space where we find gold Kruggerands and a map that leads us to buried treasure. Yes, my perfect apartment leads to a Goonies-type adventure; I’m hoping to find Corey Feldman and prevent him from his failures as a Michael Jackson-wannabe and future crazy crackhead. Also, the treasure.

I’d like to have a view of something, which includes but is not limited to:  the water, the park, a water park, a museum, cute boys, a museum filled with cute boys – or maybe just a museum made of glass that’s trapped everyone I hate inside of it:  pets, children, people, anorexic bitches, religious fanatics, bigots, the ‘WORK HARD/PLAY HARD’ douchebags from the Eastside (sorry to all the non-douchebags on the Eastside, IF THERE EVEN ARE ANY), vegans, women who wear fanny packs, men who wear shiny shirts (I thought it would be racist to say ‘Persians’ or ‘foreigners’, and look, I’m a racist!), Katherine fucking Heigl, did I mention children?, and homeless people who panhandle but have nicer clothes than me. And don’t forget the children.

If the apartment could be self-cleaning, as well, that would work for me. Actually, I think the entire apartment should be run on magic and elbow grease – the bed makes itself, the dishes do themselves, the fridge fills itself up, as does everything else I forget to re-stock:  milk, tampons, pens, stamps, money, motivation, patience, sanity. You name it, I don’t have it.

Look, I don’t think I’m asking for too much here – I just need a change, and can’t afford to get my hair done. So I figured a huge change – some kind of enormous financial burden, because we don’t have enough of those – would do instead. New Apartment, I can’t wait to meet you; I just need you to hurry up and call me already. I’m ready to bounce, like yesterday.

In Jesus’ name (except that isn’t my name, so WTF does that even mean?),

Snotty

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Written by sn0tteh

May 15, 2009 at 12:55 PM

3 Responses

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  1. Hmmm…. I think we would like to see most of the same people in the clear box. The exception: instead of children, I would lock up ill-behaved children and the “people” that spawned them.

    Monique Peterson

    May 16, 2009 at 6:26 PM

  2. You got your Corey’s mixed up. Corey Haim ended up the crazy crackhead. Corey Feldman turned into the crazy PITA man. Of course, I only know this from watching two whole episodes of “The Coreys,” by the end of which I nearly lobotomized myself.

    Carrie Gunnnn

    May 17, 2009 at 12:13 PM

  3. Mmmm, I think the “magic fridge” part may be limiting your options.

    I’d rather have a “magic wife”.

    What did I just say?

    TourPro

    May 18, 2009 at 9:16 AM


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