Supernova explosions in her colon

Sir Winston Churchill was a man who shit a lot, so during his brief courtship with my sister, one of the first things he noticed about her apartment was the creepy lack of toilet paper. It's true; she doesn't shit.

She's so cheap that she doesn't want to waste anything, and her body converts all fecal matter into energy.

My back hurts

My back really hurts and I just can't come up with the right pill cocktail. I have a pharmacy to choose to from (there are lots of colors) but nothing works. Of course we know it’s all my sisters fault. She made me move a huge couch off the fourth floor yesterday. It had been there for over a month and finally my sister gave in to the complaining children and made me move it. I think my sister is tampering with my pills; she's just replacing them with colorful sugar pills. No fun

I have one brother, not two

I was flipping through an old issue of Tiger Beat from 1863, when they put D. on the cover under the words "Teen Heartthrob." Young women from across the country just loved her, but that all came to an end when they realized in 1864 that D. was in fact a girl.

That shouldn't come as a surprise though. D.'s gender identity is as delusive and misleading as an apartment lease.

This is what I did last night!

I didn't see any images of Nazis though because my sister says the Holocaust never happened. I believe her. I mean, she is almost 600 years old!

Dirty Little Secret

I was reading my sister's diary and found out a secret. If my sister has one regret its that she was hoaxed into paying for water. She doens't take it out on the man who rapped and conned her out of the water profits hundreds of years ago, she has other ideas. My sister always looks at the big picture. She put lead in the water. Her theory is that if she can't profit from the water then she should create a scandel so large she wouldn't want to have anything to do with water. But this wasn't enough for my dear sister. She tortures he tenents, er, children, with the fact that she pays for their showers. She keeps dishwashers out of homes. Between 7 and 8 AM when people are awaking and showering for their real jobs. D fiddles with the valves so that not one child can have a temperate shower. She like to here screams when the water is scorching. She doesn't know which is preferable the screams from the heat or the yelps from the cold. It is one of her favorite topics.

Out and About

My sister's steppin' out for a public affair - and not at the courthouse this time! Now that she's passed on all the maintenance work to others in the family (thereby passing on all the savings to herself), D. has had plenty of time to "paint the town red" if you know what I mean.

Addendum: No, of course my sister can't menstruate. Why on Earth would you ask?

Sometimes I have sympathy for her...

I always demonize her, but my sister isn't so bad. She's a woman of wealth and taste, who's been around for a long, long year. She's stole many a man's soul and faith. She was round when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain and made damn sure that Pilate washed his hands and sealed his fate.

Mental Illness

I woke up this morning and told my sister that I am sick. She asked how that would make today different from any other day. I see her point.

Let me tell you how it is.

A lot of people have been talkin' and askin' why someone with my sister's money walks around in the same cat sweatshirt and elastic waistband jeans every day.

It's because she's never had anyone she needed to impress.

Bombs over Connecticut Heights

D. is not pleased; people are moving out of the building in droves. Jeez, my sister shoots a few missles at the competing residential properties across the street, and tenants evacuate the Manor like it's the freakin' Middle East!

This might make you hungry, lol!

My sister normally doesn't redecorate her "dwelling" until a tenant escapes, leaving personal belongings behind and often in the garbage room. Since she makes about $85,000 a month, she decided to buy a obscenely laquered $62,000 reproduction of an antique dining table. I don't think we're going to use it though.

For hundreds of years, we've been eating at the same table; it stretches from wall to wall. She sits at one end and I sit in a child's seat at the other. We don't talk much at dinner because "she has nothing to say to me." It's about 100 feet long and was pictured in the Da Vinci's Last Supper.

Sometimes, I refuse to eat because she's stolen my will to live.

Crime pays

There's a lot of talk these days about escalating crime rates in Washington - and for once, my sister is not to be blamed!

Unsurprisingly, D. pins responsibility squarely on black people. I, on the other hand, take issue with the police. They could really learn a thing or two from my sister. All this nonsense about warrants and probable cause. My sister just lets herself into the tenants' apartments whenever she pleases, and you can bet your bottom $47 that the building is always on its toes.

The only recent Manor-specific crime wave that comes to mind is glass down the garbage chute. We are still dealing with that.

Nasty

The old hag got caught in the rain while flying around, and now the whole building smells like wet dog.

"Tile" Death Do Us Part

It took me nearly 15 minutes to re-tile a tenant's bathroom yesterday - much longer than I had anticipated. My sister at first instructed me to use the leftover self-sticking linoleum we had lying around from when we "repaired" the roof, but then she changed her mind and insisted on using the bones of deceased residents. (D. and recycling? Who knew!)

I was annoyed by D.'s change of heart, but it turns out that the new flooring looks very nice - white, but not too white. After all, the bones belonged to a black man.

Cough!

I think my lungs must be white, coated in plaster dust. My sister made me retile a tenant's floor. I wanted to do a good job and have the whole thing match, but she said "Don't bother."

Toot toot

D. just farted and then blamed it on the gargoyle. Nice try, sis. We all know that a gargoyle's fart doesn't smell of lilac.

I slept for 19 hours!

Last night, the weather was decidedly nice for the first time in a while. My sister climbed to the roof to reflect on her long life, and forced me to take sleeping pills. I watched television as I dozed off and COPS came on.

It was the episode where my sister gets thrown in jail for jealously beating up an vulnerable old lady, whose apartment building happens to have 53, one more than my sister's 52, units.

Squeak squeak

My sister's ex-boyfriend Aaron Burr once famously said, "Never do today what you can put off till tomorrow. Delay may give clearer light as to what is best to be done." And that's what D. liked best about Aaron: his sense of humor. Indeed, why do today what you can put off indefinitely? Delay may give clearer light to some, but to my sister, it saves a pretty penny.

That said, it should come as no surprise that it nearly killed D. to call on the services of an emergency elevator repairman last night. With no functioning elevator at their disposal, the tenants had grown uneasy this weekend, and my sister feared they would soon take matters into their own thieving, unwashed hands. It cost her nearly $500 (an hour's wage) to fix the lift in time. D. was not pleased, but it sure beats facing the business end of a tenant-lead revolution.

Speaking of revolution, the celebration of our nation's independence has nearly come to a close. Ah, independence - must be nice! I wouldn't know.

No, this doesn't mean she likes Jewish people...

Whenever the first of July falls on a weekend that is extended for the Independence Day holiday, confusion arises. Tenants never know when to deliver their rent checks and on each day of the long weekend, my sister finds a small heap of checks, just waiting to be cashed.

She calls it "Hannukah."