hello there! i’m afraid this blog post has been long delayed and indeed rushed due to my present situation – im in the middle of moving. its nearly 2am here right now and i’m sitting on the floor of the place i’m moving out of, stealing the internet from “bulka d link”. if you needed proof beyond my early morning hang up calls that i love you, this certainly is it.

but it’s about time i and my roommates moved out of this hole. i’ve written before about apartment-mates in this building and the folk who occupy the outsides, but i don’t think you actually have the whole picture about this place. it’s diiiirty. there’s a literal drug house next door. it’s dark, damp, and i’m pretty sure there’s asbestos. we took the lease on this place on a whim – we needed some place quick and didn’t have time to look around, and therefore ended up living in the apartment above a prostitute. literally. the apartment below us houses a prostitute. she’s on the ground floor, and inexplicably crawls out her window to go outside. she doesn’t go out the front door – she crawls out, like a mole. you may ask, “well, how do you know she’s a prostitute?” well, because one day, when i couldn’t find the right key to open the front door, she came up behind me after being dropped off.

[I struggle with the key]
ME [frightened]: Oh, hi there.
PROSTITUTE: Hard day at work.
ME: No, I didn’t work today.
PROSTITUTE: No, not you. Me. I’m a hooker, ya know? It’s rough.
ME: …. Yeah. That certainly…. yeah.

actual conversation.

so i couldn’t wait to get out of this place.

and where did we move to? the LAP OF LUXURYtm

seriously i just came from my new upper middle class place and i cannot wait to go back. the lobby features a chandelier, various woodland animal paintings, and a waterfall. i’ll repeat – a WATERFALL. falling water. the building features a sauna and a weight room. monkey butlers serve you chocolates on a platter when you enter (not true, but someday..). most importantly, i don’t worry about getting stabbed when i walk out into the hallway!

only thing i will miss about this place?
the failed actor.
though he thinks my name is josh, the failed actor and i have become close acquaintances. i’ve written about him before, but basically he was this slightly creepy 40 year old who continually smoked and drank out on his balcony. every day i exited the building and we chatted for a bit – about law & order, politics, government – and most of his thoughts were incoherent, yet brilliant. like a walrus with a phd (??). he invited me to go to tim horton’s (a radical canadian donut store) with him today – and while that would’ve made fantastic blog post material – he still is 40 years old and insane. i told him to call me (yes, he now has my number. very strange.) next week, and if that happens…. well, maybe i’ll sneak in a tape recorder and post our bizarre convo online.


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