(no subject)
Mar. 30th, 2007 06:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickI have a weekend out of town scheduled, so updating may be spotty. To tide you over, I have (behind the cut) a Tenant Letter.
Dear Susan:
Hi and how are you? Hopefully, things are alot better with you than they are with us. Well, let's see, where do I begin? Well, for the most part everyone including Mate are doing good.....however, I think the police are on to Mate. He hasn't done anything wrong as far as the police go, but he just makes things so complicated when they really don't have to be.
We are still arguing over money....that's the biggest thing. We are going to end up moving again because I couldn't pay the rent on Feb. 1st. I had to pay his outstanding weed bill and make a car payment. The phone has been shut off because of this "outstanding" bill. He gets this stuff fronted to him and it adds up. I got paid yesterday and he was suppose to go pay the rent but he had another "outstanding" bill to pay which took up my entire paycheck except $216. Mind you, my rent is 425 a month. The electric was due yesterday as well and quite frankly I'm so ready to give up that I can't see straight. It seems like the more I try to get it through to him about the bills that need to be paid, the more he doesn't want to listen. What am I doing wrong? Do I have sucker written on my forehead?
Couple of problems with this letter, which was written in passably-readable cursive and contained PARAGRAPHS, that exciting and high-class literary technique mostly unknown to my tenant-letter-writers. It's also reasonably-well punctuated, though someone should tell Demetrius (that's a girl, by the way) that you are only allowed three dots for your ellipsises and not five.
Problem #1: "He gets this stuff fronted to him..." What? Look. I watch The Wire. Ain't no fucking drug dealers what take fucking credit. Their clientele, if I may be so bold, are fucking lying no-count junkies. They are not stupid enough to take credit from such people. Your boy is only getting fronted if he's dealing. Are you stupid?
Problem #2: "I had to pay his outstanding weed bill..." Your boy is using enough weed that it eats into the rent money? WTF? Okay, I do not actually know how much weed costs in my neck of the woods (but anyone who does, feel free to email me so that we have some idea of the volume that "the rent money" would buy) but in my entirely unschooled views on the subject, four hundred and twenty-five dollars ought to buy a whole pile of weed, more than anyone with a reasonable social life would need in a month's time.
Updated information: Local(ish) weed prices, I'm told, run between two hundred and three hundred dollars an ounce, so we're looking at an amount closer to two ounces than not. That's... lots. Totally lots. Wow. No wonder he didn't have a job.
Problem #3: "...he was suppose to go pay the rent" -- You de one wi' de job, so why you handin' ovah de paycheck like dat? Dat yo money, sistah. Why you be hannin it to some no-count boy like dat? Is you stupid?
Problem #4: "Do I have sucker written on my forehead?" That's one of the questions where if you're thinking to ask it, you already know the answer in your little heart of hearts.
Yes, you are a sucker. Here are some guidelines for life with a boy that you might find useful:
1. You should not have to give your roof to your boy. Your boy should either have his own roof or he should pay part of the rent money. If he ain't be married to you, he ain't be living in yo' place fo' free.
2. You should not have to give your paycheck to your boy. Your paycheck is for you to spend on things like rent, groceries, phone service, cable television, and car payments. If you gotta pay your boy to get him to fuck you, you need to be hunting for a new boy.
3. If yo' boy want to be a man, he can try time-honored techniques like "getting a job" and "contributing to the household income" and "showing a little responsibility" and stuff like that. Until he manage dem tings dere, he just a boy, no matter how big his dick is. A boy, even though he first in line on the booty call, is not entitled to a whole lot of respect. Respect is for men. Men are employed and responsible and contribute to the household. Boys are just pretty things that you fuck.
You might bear these things in mind the next time you are evicted because you spent the rent money on your boy's back weed bill. I'm just sayin'.
Dear Susan:
Hi and how are you? Hopefully, things are alot better with you than they are with us. Well, let's see, where do I begin? Well, for the most part everyone including Mate are doing good.....however, I think the police are on to Mate. He hasn't done anything wrong as far as the police go, but he just makes things so complicated when they really don't have to be.
We are still arguing over money....that's the biggest thing. We are going to end up moving again because I couldn't pay the rent on Feb. 1st. I had to pay his outstanding weed bill and make a car payment. The phone has been shut off because of this "outstanding" bill. He gets this stuff fronted to him and it adds up. I got paid yesterday and he was suppose to go pay the rent but he had another "outstanding" bill to pay which took up my entire paycheck except $216. Mind you, my rent is 425 a month. The electric was due yesterday as well and quite frankly I'm so ready to give up that I can't see straight. It seems like the more I try to get it through to him about the bills that need to be paid, the more he doesn't want to listen. What am I doing wrong? Do I have sucker written on my forehead?
Couple of problems with this letter, which was written in passably-readable cursive and contained PARAGRAPHS, that exciting and high-class literary technique mostly unknown to my tenant-letter-writers. It's also reasonably-well punctuated, though someone should tell Demetrius (that's a girl, by the way) that you are only allowed three dots for your ellipsises and not five.
Problem #1: "He gets this stuff fronted to him..." What? Look. I watch The Wire. Ain't no fucking drug dealers what take fucking credit. Their clientele, if I may be so bold, are fucking lying no-count junkies. They are not stupid enough to take credit from such people. Your boy is only getting fronted if he's dealing. Are you stupid?
Problem #2: "I had to pay his outstanding weed bill..." Your boy is using enough weed that it eats into the rent money? WTF? Okay, I do not actually know how much weed costs in my neck of the woods (but anyone who does, feel free to email me so that we have some idea of the volume that "the rent money" would buy) but in my entirely unschooled views on the subject, four hundred and twenty-five dollars ought to buy a whole pile of weed, more than anyone with a reasonable social life would need in a month's time.
Updated information: Local(ish) weed prices, I'm told, run between two hundred and three hundred dollars an ounce, so we're looking at an amount closer to two ounces than not. That's... lots. Totally lots. Wow. No wonder he didn't have a job.
Problem #3: "...he was suppose to go pay the rent" -- You de one wi' de job, so why you handin' ovah de paycheck like dat? Dat yo money, sistah. Why you be hannin it to some no-count boy like dat? Is you stupid?
Problem #4: "Do I have sucker written on my forehead?" That's one of the questions where if you're thinking to ask it, you already know the answer in your little heart of hearts.
Yes, you are a sucker. Here are some guidelines for life with a boy that you might find useful:
1. You should not have to give your roof to your boy. Your boy should either have his own roof or he should pay part of the rent money. If he ain't be married to you, he ain't be living in yo' place fo' free.
2. You should not have to give your paycheck to your boy. Your paycheck is for you to spend on things like rent, groceries, phone service, cable television, and car payments. If you gotta pay your boy to get him to fuck you, you need to be hunting for a new boy.
3. If yo' boy want to be a man, he can try time-honored techniques like "getting a job" and "contributing to the household income" and "showing a little responsibility" and stuff like that. Until he manage dem tings dere, he just a boy, no matter how big his dick is. A boy, even though he first in line on the booty call, is not entitled to a whole lot of respect. Respect is for men. Men are employed and responsible and contribute to the household. Boys are just pretty things that you fuck.
You might bear these things in mind the next time you are evicted because you spent the rent money on your boy's back weed bill. I'm just sayin'.
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-31 05:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-02 02:51 am (UTC)I needed a non-hostile dialect and I was surrounded by people who spoke flawless Bawlmer (person-of-color subdialect). Picking up a little Bawlmer didn't make me LOOK any less white, but it made me sound less threatening, more friendly to the target audience. (Does that sort of thing work? Bet your boots. Take a look at Mr. Obama -- he talk white. De news always sayin' he ARTICULATE or some shit jes cause he talk white. He ain't all dat, no mo dan any ovver lawyer, cept he don' soun like he black so dey all be sayin' he ARTICULATE. Shee-it.) The words that you use, the dialect in which you speak... it opens doors, it closes doors.
These days I don't use Bawlmer except for LJ entertainment, so my grip of the accent, the rhythm, the musicality, and the slang is slipping as the years go by. I can do enough to amuse, but I'd have to live there again and use it on a regular basis to maintain any sort of fluency.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 08:57 pm (UTC)I have no idea how much weed is actually in a dime bag, though. Is it just one joint worth?
no subject
Date: 2007-04-02 12:24 am (UTC)By the way, a friend of mine tells me that $450 will get you 3-4 ounces of weed, depending on how much the dealer/grower does or doesn't like you. That's in Virginia. PA might be different. I'm not sure. I quit the stuff awhile back.