Movin' Out

There comes a time in every mans life when he needs to move out of an apartment. In my case the time is now. I've spent one long painfully filthy year in this studio apartment, and I feel it is time to move on. What I didn't expect was the "cleaning list" provided by my rental agency. When I moved into this dump it was filthy, the shag carpet made me cringe, the pubic hair left in the shower gave me the goosebumps, and the overall feel that AIDS was dripping from the walls simply left me feeling blue. Since then I've had three kitchen mates, one of which was a whore who robbed me, the other a very nice indian man who left the kitchen a mess, and the third (the new guy) some random smelly kid (sorry if you read this random smelly kid). The lights have all burned out, there have been constant problems with both the plumbing and the domestic disturbances from all of the oh so friendly neighbors, and frankly I feel as though cleaning this dump is a waste of my time. They (the rental agency) expect me to clean this place as if Tom Cruise was coming to stay. Wash this, soak that, clean this, swipe that. Well I don't know how to clean a toilet bowl when its black and orange, and I haven't seen the floor of my room in over four months, so eat it. I'll take my shit with me, I'll even clean up the garbage, and yes, I'll give the place an overall swipe down with my magical disinfectant rags, but no, I will not put energy into cleaning this dump. The lesson of this story is don't do what you don't have to. That may sound stupid, and come off as unhelpful and rude, but if you are living in the shittiest of places make them suffer a little bit as well. After all, they didn't get you a new door when your old one was broken in during the robbery, and that table I've been waiting on for nine months is still absent. So listen up America, stick it to the man and leave a dump in the toilet, your deposit will cover it and feeling good is always better than a measly 200 dollars. Oh, and a personal complaint, the asians that live above me and fight all night, break shit, and end up sobbing until the wee hours of the morning really need to break up. At some point, love doesn't conquer all and you're just wasting your life away. Stick to the man, leave a terd in the tank.