Really, Just Kill Me Now

Ohhhh, Ratzelfratzel, Farfignewgen, and just plain $#@%$$!!

When is summer vacation REALLY going to start? Arrrgghhh!

Big Kid's lease was up, and since there was a substantial increase in rent, he and Kitty decided that he was going to move in to her house. The one that she shares with her 86-year-old mother-in-law (Kitty is a widow).

Shares is a relative term, because Kitty essentially moved in with Big Kid at the apartment. She was there more often than she was at her own house.

The situation seems to be a good one, because MIL is becoming increasingly infirm, and it would be good to have someone there in case she fell or something (which has happened), it's close to Kitty's work, and the management won't call me up about complaints regarding Big Kid's music, because MIL is almost deaf as a post. He can rock on to his heart's content.

I haven't written a lot about him or them in this 8 months, because I still have mixed feelings about the whole relationship, and I didn't want to invade their privacy that much, because Big Kid knows I blog.

Frankly, I just don't give a rat's ass now. Seriously.

A month ago, Big Kid and I went to the leasing office to fill out the "intent to vacate" form, since I am the co-leasee with him. Big Kid and Kitty have had 30 days to pack up their crap and move it. We'd get a truck and move the big stuff.

Hubby and I weren't unreasonable. We knew that Kitty's house is full of furniture, and there wasn't a whole heck of a lot that they needed, ie; Big Kid's kitchen table and chairs, futon bed/couch (which dissassembles), assorted end tables etc could come back here and be stored in the basement.
What we DIDN'T know is that some other renter BSed them into taking HIS big-ass nasty greasy spoogy couch and easy chair so that HE didn't have to move it. They thought, "hey free furniture!", and not "oh shucks, if we leave this crap here, or can't move it, the complex will charge us 100.00 per item for disposal!" gah

Last Thursday, 5 days before the walkthrough, THD, Little Guy and I showed up as planned to start cleaning. Everything was supposed to be boxed---what needed to go to Kitty's in one part of the apartment, what needed to be stored at our place (like dishes and stuff) in another.

Practically nothing had been done. Of course, they'd taken the stuff that was immediately "important" to them---the TV, game system, stereo system, a few clothes....the place was knee-deep in crap. Literally.

So for 3 hours, we helped them pack...just shoveled sh*t into boxes and garbage bags. Of course, Kitty's car was so full of other crap that she couldn't actually MOVE anything back to her house.

Nothing like planning ahead, eh?

Left them with boxes, bags, etc to pack the rest of the stuff up in. Said we'd be back Sunday Morning (in 3 whole days) with the truck and trailer to move the big stuff and anything they wanted to store at our house.

Of course they didn't show up, and had done NOTHING to pack the rest of their crap up, so Hubby and the boys loaded everything they could. Including the fug couch and chair.

Their excuse?

Kitty: I had to work! (24 hours a day for 3 days, apparently).

Big Kid: I'm feeling too overwhelmed to lift a finger! And you got me into this apartment, it wasn't my idea, so it's your job to get me out of it! (ah yes, the old "clean up my mess, because nothing is my fault" argument again)

I am NOT sh*tting you.

They've had 30 days to do this. It wasn't a surprise. They aren't the victims they think they are. Really, the whine fest between the two of them could have used at least 3 pounds of cheese and crackers. And an orchestra of tiny violins.

The last two days, the boys and I have been cleaning and disinfecting the freaking apartment. Scrubbing walls, especially the petrified puke chunks splashed a foot and a half high around the toilet. Different basic colors, obviously from different times.

Big Kid, Kitty and friends had dyed their hair a few times over the months, but didn't bother to clean up after themselves. There was permanent hair dye stains in the carpet, in the heating vents, on the walls, and all over the brand-new linoleum floor that was installed in the walk-in closet just off the bathroom. Which now has to be paid for.

We've loaded the car up to move stuff up to our house in the mountains to be gone through later, multiple times.

THD has been suitably traumatized (since Little Guy assisted in moving Big Guy out of our house, he was inured). While cleaning out a cabinet, he found a half-gallon jug of milk with a loose lid and about 4 inches of curdled crap. And he found and packed Kitty's vibrator collection. Oh joy.

Pigs. The two of them live like pigs. It's as simple as that.

Had the walk-through today. Had planned to shampoo the carpets, but after we got the initial crap cleaned up off of them, we knew it was a lost cause.

The geniuses had tried to lift off some of the stains with bleach. Yes bleach. On a tan carpet.

But not that it mattered. There were over 50 carpet burns throughout the apartment from where they put their cigarettes out. Along with the hair dye stains. And several gunky spots that may have been milk-shakes. Or puke. It seems they puked a lot. The place certainly smelled like it.

So the damage is estimated around 800 dollars for the carpet and linoleum replacement. The complex didn't ding us on the cleaning because Little Guy, THD and I scrubbed the living crap out of every surface in and out. But of course, I'm going to have to pay it, because my name is on the lease and I don't want to mess up my credit.

Did Big Kid and Kitty call today to find out how it went? How much work we did? What the ultimate damages were?

No, they called to find out what time they could come tomorrow to pick up our monthly support check to pay for Big Kid's basic living expenses.

Anyone wanna take bets on how far my foot is going to implant itself up a couple of asses?

But hey, there is nothing in my name any longer associated with the kid. If he tries to rent again, there will be a positive reference for him. I will never, evah, sign my name to anything else.

He and Kitty can live like pigs in their own hollar, and deal with it on their own.

I'm really really tired and being a bad fellow blogger.

I simply can't keep up.

Be back to check up on you guys in a week or so. I'm sorry.

ATM