Shitstorm

Tag this along my string of bad luck experiences:

My car was broken into. While they did not steal anything of major importance (you know, the car itself), the burglars did make off with the entirety of my cd collection, my XM radio set (damnit!!!), my cell phone charger cord, and one travel size bottle of CVS brand lemon hand sanitizer. Yes, I am aware of how random that sounds. Bastards.

Also, my neighbors upstairs are having a problem with their AC unit, which is leaking through the ceiling and dripping onto my stairway/banister. Drip. Drip. Drip. And apparently there is nothing maintenance can do with this heat, claiming it is just one of those things everyone is dealing with. Mmmmhmm. Sure. Drip. Drip. I have soaked through 2 towels already in the past 2 hours. Drip. Drip.

Chalk all of this up to the fact that my car, Dorian (after Dorian Gray), is without doubt the victim and receipient of all of my bad karma.

Yet another reason why I do not, in general, enjoy birthdays.

Oh, and this is how I really feel:

LaTrelle: "BECAUSE I THINK MY HEAD IS GONNA EXPLODE ANY MINUTE IF ANY MORE SHIT HITS THE FAN TODAY!"
Ty: "Did you just say 'shit'?"
LaTrelle: "I did. I did! And I said 'damn' today too. And 'hell.' And 'bitch.' And 'dookie.' And you know what? I feel like sayin' more. Damn! Hell! Bitch! Shit! Dookie! DAMN! HELL! BITCH! SHIT! TITTYYYYYYYYYY!"