In which Candice complains about her landlord… again

I bet our landlord is glad this cold weather is almost over!

For reasons he doesn’t bother to be aware of or give a shit about!

Guess what happens when our furnace keeps breaking down (won’t ignite) and you don’t do anything to properly fix it besides jiggling some wires until it works one single time before you leave again, guy?

First of all, one of these posts. Probably you should start reading here. But if you’re masochistic and are still reading, this:

  1. The motor runs constantly whenever it gets cold enough in here to kick on until such time as someone comes home to bash it with something and make it work or we wake up (freezing fucking cold) too bash it with something and make it work.
  2. Since you pay our electric bill, you get to pay for a furnace that is running all day and night while accomplishing nothing.
  3. Since the furnace doesn’t work, we plug in four space heaters and run them at full blast 24/7 instead.
  4. Since you pay our electric, you get to pay for running four space heaters at full blast 24/7 instead.
  5. You risk having your shitty building burn down because we are running four space heaters at full blast on shitty wiring because we have a non-working furnace that won’t ignite. Problems with ignition… probably not a fire hazard, right?
  6. I get really fucking annoyed.

I don’t know how much extra he must be paying on the electric bill every month, and I don’t care. But I’ve really been saving on our gas bill this winter. And freezing my fucking ass off.

Soon I get to be annoyed with the fact that our back door needs to be replaced completely because it doesn’t fit its frame properly anymore and there are huge gaps around all sides that no weatherstripping can fix, meaning that bugs (cockroaches, FUCK) can just walk right on in whenever they feel like it. We have an SRO across the 6-foot alley out back. I dunno if you know what that means, precisely, but approximately: dirtbag everything-infested disgustingness (it’s almost The Whistler season…) I guess he likes constantly paying for exterminators just as much as he liked paying for the extra electric use (instead of gas, sucker) caused by the icy cold draft coming from that fucker all winter. And by draft, I mean wind. ‘Cause this shit is not up to code. Neither is the lake that keeps appearing out our back door and threatening to overflow under the door and into our kitchen. Or you know. Actually doing it.

For the record, I’ve avoided cockroaches two summers ago and apparently ever since then going totally OCD on our apartment with caulk and expanding foam the first time I saw the bastards. I filled in every motherfucking crack in this place. You have nowhere to hide, you sickening bastards! Every crack. Every one. I’m not kidding. Most of the other units still get exterminated every few months. I hope he doesn’t mind the mess caused by my frantic and unprofessional crack-filling. It’s only due to his failure to consider his own preventative measures. (BTW, not exterminating every unit, guy? Just means the cockroaches move to the next resident’s unit temporarily. They do not go away. But I don’t care, because they don’t come here, so continue blowing money.)

I hate landlords, man.

I have to go bash our furnace with something now (damn, I am sick of listening to that thing run), so rant over.

Until next time I have to do laundry, probably.

This blog is mostly about how much I hate to do laundry, I think. And also I think I’ve made this exact post about sixteen times.