2021/09/03

John Fucking Hurley

 Yes, the assholian dipshit above me never really stopped his insane ranting and raving, which started at around 21:30 last night. I watched him around 08:00, walking down the street, harassing a couple of young ladies. 

He was yelling at them, pointing his finger like a gun and saying "Bang! Yeah, I got the red dot on you, right in the middle of your back, Boom! You're dead! Fuckin' right. I got the red dot right on you!"

Fast forward to around 12:45, just after I got home from my insanity at the grocery store, and John Fucking Hurley - as he loves to scream out on his balcony at all hours - was back screaming all kinds of shit. Out on his balcony, back indoors, back outside, yelling all the while. Mix in his incessant banging and clomping, then he would start banging on his balcony door. I hoped he would break it, maybe slash his wrists all to fuck and noisily bleed out. [nasty fuck, ain't I?]

But, no. About an hour & a half ago, he slammed out onto his balcony and started giving the folks below me non-sensical shit. They took their cue and walked away while he continued his lambasting. Then, he tossed 3 cans of half finished beer over his railing. I said to myself, "Fuck it!" and called OCH security, for the 1,652nd time, + or -.

I told them, for the 1,652nd time that (and I used these exact words) "Johnny Fucking Hurley" has gone off the deep end. Again, for the 1,652nd time. An hour later, oops! The silly boy was screaming his head off in the stairwell of the building. As we both live at the end of the building, I, and probably every other fucking tenant on our end, could hear him.

I called security again to ask if anyone had paid the lad a visit. Security checked and replied affirmative. He was visited. I told the fellow on the phone, the same fellow I spoke to on my original call, that was why I never want to speak to security after they do their biz on my complaints. Because it all means nothing. I thanked him, told him that "you guys fucked up once more" and hung up.

Maybe I should actually give the Tenant Support or Community Support, or whatever the fuck that worker is, another try. Can't hurt. Doubtful that it would help. In my current state of mind, I do not trust myself to not pay John Fucking Hurley and utilize my aluminum baseball bat like it should be. Cloink! A-a-a-nd i-i-i-t's OUTA HERE!! But no, I am a pasty, weak-kneed wuss. It's tough enough on me to walk down a flight of stairs and back again to get my mail every week.

sigh. Life's a bitch and then you get the Wuhan Virus.
Fahk Me.

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