Shocking, really

My sister and I were engaged last night in my weekly electroconvulsive therapy session, colloquially known as ECT. I'm still a little drowsy from the anaesthesia, but as D. says, better to be temporarily drowsy than delusionally psychopathic and unremittingly suicidal.

(Ha ha ha, I love my sister's little sayings. If I could knit or were allowed to own a set of needles, I'd stitch it upon a pillow!)

Addendum: I apologize to my sister's downstairs neighbors. Whilst inducing a bilateral tonic clonic seizure, Old Butterfingers dropped an electrode and caused quite a noisy stir. I told her to be more careful, but before I knew it, D. had slapped the electrode onto my scalp and I was bouncing like a rent check!

Bloody Hell (icopter)

I have a concussion and a broken nose because D kicked my ass again.

She is still bitter about the leaks on the roof this spring curses every time the creditors call to get her to pay them. They haven’t realized all financial inquiries should be forwarded to her ‘friends’ in Switzerland.

After browsing through the high resolution photos of the building, which she gets from a ‘friend’ at the FBI, she confirmed her suspicions that it was my fault the roof got tore up. I had tried to paint the pope's face on the roof to use as a helicopter landing pad. Well the roof was so old that when I was walking around my leg just went right through. I thought I had escaped unnoticed, until today when I experienced (like so many times before) the wrath of my sister.

Today she beat with her steel-toed timbalands. Who knows what may be in store. Pray for me.

Update: D's wrath opened the heavens and it is pouring.

Drama Queen

Last night, I went to the movies with my sister and saw Renaissance. D. has great admiration (and a bit of professional envy, if you ask me) for Queen Elizabeth I. Oh boy was she surprised when the movie included NOTHING about *that* renaissance. They showed a lot of old buildings falling apart, which is a touchy subject with her. She stormed out of the theatre!

Yo yo yo

My sister's fledgling rap career is really taking off. She's leveraged her experience as a one-time manager of a girl band (Perhaps you've heard of them - The Dee's, of 1950s fame?) and taken the Billboard Landlady 100 by storm. She's got the skills - although not enough to pay the bills. Fortunately her children do that for her.

She's performing at 1223 this weekend under the stage name Mizz D. Meaner. Tickets are priced in a fashion similar to that of her apartments: exorbitantly and without reason.

Country Road.

My sister spent the weekend at her country estate. I made her a mix tape of some of her favorite songs. As a symbol of my love I even wrote out the lyrics. D got mad because her Benz convertible doesn't take cassette tapes. I don't have access to the better technology. D laughed at my efforts and drove over the mix tape and the lyrics with her car the tires (17 inch rims) destroyed all my hard work. I need to find better ways to show D my affection.

I have included some of D's favorite lyrics for your enjoyment.

Take Me Home, Country Roads

Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze

Country roads, take me home to the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama, take me home, country roads.

West Virginia, Chose Me

But a few of us are staying
And it's not a point of choice
It's not we who do the choosing
We are chosen by the place
And West Virginia chose me
Sure as my own mother knows me
If I leave you, West Virginia,
It don't matter where I roam
I don't know where I'm going
But I know I'm coming home

I Can't Ever Leave
The sun’s high above West Virginia
Drives all the shadows from the land
My chin in my hands
My heart on my sleeve
So far away but I can’t ever leave West Virginia

Dogging it

My sister has had a weird bug. She has not been able to stop sneezing. All of her holistic remedies have so far failed her. She has the paranoid idea that a tenant (nay, child) is breaking the ultimate law of Ms. D. She fears the worst, that they have discovered her only vulnerability and are exploiting her weakness.

DOGS!

D has sent me on a wild goose chase to find the child who is illegally harboring a pet. She is resentful of the special relationship people have with their dogs she feels they should have this type of affection for their landlady. I have entered every apartment at least twice in the past week; this has prevented me from posting. Every search has come up empty for a dog. Though I have found valium, pot, and vodka. My confession is that I steal vodka from the tenants and refill their bottles with water. I have also stolen boxer briefs from an apartment on the 3rd floor.

D isn't sneezing because of a dog allergy. Her conscience is finally catching up to her.

Wee!

I found a rug outside of someone's door and decided to play flying carpet with it. I'm not allowed to play fly or else my sister medicates me. I don't think she's cultured enough to know that in the middle east they have carpets that fly. Anyway, now I lost it.

Holiday! Celebrate!

It's a holiday weekend, and I couldn't be any more excited! My sister and I will be cruising in her Mercedes convertible to our West Virginia bohemian resort, where we'll be maxin', relaxin', and, of course, taxin' (the guests). What better way to celebrate the Feast of D----ysus, right?

Addendum: Sources tell me it is also Labor Day weekend. It's ironic, given that my sister has never labored for even a minute, let alone an entire day.