"I smell burned toast"

This is the dump I call home.


This is the un-hip part of Williamsburg Brooklyn. My apartment is the one with the lovely bars on the windows. That is to keep me "safe."


This is my 250 year old roomate Tucker.

So Tues, early in the morning as I was getting dressed for the drudgery of the day I looked out my window and saw three fire trucks pulling up in front of my building. I thought, "Wow, where's the fire?" Little did I know the drama was about to begin in my building!

One of my sane but worried neighbors had called 911 because she smelled a rancid burning odor for over an hour. NY's bravest filled the hallways of my building knocking on doors looking for the source of contention. Everyone except the culprit came out to clear up the confusion with the uniformed men of the local fire dept. The one resident who did not open the door was the crackwhore who lives next door to me. The smell was obviously coming from her apartment-- but not until the firemen were ready to break down her door with axes did the nasty animal who happens to be my neighbor open the door. She claimed she was not cooking anything. But according to experts, the smell was definately "cooking rock."

This animal who happens to live in the same building as me and the other normal tenants of the building is a known drug addict, dealer, theif, prostitute and all-around undesirable. She has been a constant source of pain and misery for everyone in the building and has targeted her anger specifically at me. Over the past few years I have caught her stealing: my mail, any packages delivered to me and anything that is not tied down in the neighborhood. She has somehow survived all these years by living off the system and stealing from others while going in and out of methedone treatment. Apparently, her genetic bloodline has a distinguished trend of addicts and theives originating from the old country.

All the tenants who remain in the building, (many have fled) are steadfast and strong and must endure the bullshit from the crack whore (is that one word or two?) as well as the stupidity of our dead landlord's son and psychotic daughter. At some point, we will get together as a cohesive entity and fight for our right to live in peace.