Sunday, October 31, 2010
"My House Wants to Kill Me"
Aw crap I've bashed myself again! Last time I nearly chopped one of my fingers off. This time I slipped, and banged my head against the wall, gouged my side against the bookcase, which thought about falling on me, but then decided not to bother.
Btw, I hit my head so hard on the way down I broke the closet door knob off.
I tried getting up, and slipped again this time landing on my forehead. Did I mention I have a toothache too. Yeah I have insurance, but it's very tiny,...for the tooth that is. Forget about the rest as in my banged up body,..my head in particular.
Ya know I think my house is trying to kill me.
Well at least it's thinking about it. After all the book case didn't fall on me,..but could have. I don't get why my place has it in for me. I mean I take such good care of it. I haven't crowded it with tons of useless junk or furniture.
In fact everyone sez how Zen the place is.
'Matter of fact the whole reason I slipped, twice, was because my floors are so well polished. I got kind of a fetish about that. Shiny floors. A holdover from when I was homeless. Btw I was able to photograph many dawns when I was wandering around out there. ...a small "upside".
From my year of wandering.
I was so happy to have digs of my own again I've gone into overdrive to keep it nice'n tidy.
So what's got my place so pissed at me that it would try to cut my finger off, then impale me, bash the back of my head then have a second go, and attack my face.
Wait I just remembered. I nearly fell out of the tub the other night. My foot got caught in the shower curtain,..could'a broke my neck.
....shit,..the place 'is' trying to kill me!
Might be restless spirits around. After all the building 'is' about 100 years old. Roman ruins by American standards. Everything here besides, the native temples, and pyramids. Everything here is less than three or four hundred years old.
Heavens sakes Europe, and Asia have latrines, and whore houses thousands of years older.
Guys over there were taking dumps in warm comfy latrines, and getting laid in cat houses before the first European settlers came to the new world to die of yellow fever, starvation, Indians, or rigged card games.
There's Roman crappers still around from before they built the 2nd Avenue subway. Well okay they still ain't finished it. Did you know that alleged construction is coming up on it's centennial!
Yep they broke ground in the 1920's. In ten, fifteen years it'll be 100 years in the making. A record for corruption, and historic incompetence there somewhere.
My glossy though deadly floors.
Anyway so when I go home what will be waiting for me? Will a bleeping poisonous snake come up through the drain? Speaking of crappers will I get sucked out to sea when I flush? Perhaps get electrocuted when I try to cook hot dogs in the microwave.
Or am I just getting hyper behind a few simple household accidents.