Crack-heads Need Love Too...Also.

There are things happening in my life, too mystical for my logical mind to comprehend.

With that said...

Slummy calls me yesterday morning to THREATEN me.
Oh yeah, they guy's gone off the deep end and apparently can't do much but dog paddle.

His life is unmanageable...so he believes he'll manage ME...wrong.

So two years of being kind and courteous to this jerk off went right out the flippin window...the proverbial window...the one WITHOUT a storm window on it.

Before I knew what was happening, all the people skills I thought I knew, and or had in my possesion, were gone.

I was back in the hood, standing on my front porch, running the crack-heads off my property...with what can only be described as my best sailor technique. Yes, he broke me...and broke me good! Um, WELL...broke me WELL.

The odd thing about individuals like Slummy, is that when you meet them on their level...whatever that level may be...they seem to give you a curious sort of respect as a result.

Not that Slummy will reneg on his 30 day notice. Not a chance...he was still saying "30 days" at the end of the conversation, but that's just my point.

He was SAYING it, not screaming it. And I was able to let the creep know exactly how I felt about what he was doing...in exactly the words he could understand.

The crack-head.