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Thursday, September 11, 2003 

In Memoriam of 9/11

I'm so tried I could fall over dead. Someone in the complex was having a little party last night (on a Wednesday night?!?!) and all the "homies" were being loud, drinking in the parking lot, urinating behind the utility fences, throwing trash around, etc. Since I don't live in the ghetto, I don't expect this sort of behavior. Two individuals (a guy and a girl) were fighting pretty vigorously for about an hour. She was sitting in her car, he was leaning in her window. Every other word was "f**k" and the words in between seemed to all be expletives too. My windows were closed tightly, yet I could hear every friggen word they were saying. Finally, I got sick of it (it was 11:30 at night, and I couldn't get to sleep with all the noise), and I called the cops. They showed up, broke up the arguing, and at the very least allowed me to get to sleep -- at almost 12:15. That left me with about 6 hours of sleep (during a week that I'm running myself pretty thin). Damn hoodlums. Take your disrespectful ghetto trash elsewhere. But not in my community. Next time I'll just have to go out there and stab you in the eye with my knitting needle, if that's what it takes to teach you some respect. (Okay, I'm really not that violent, but last night I wished I had a sling shot or gun that could shoot DPN's at the punks).

Listen to me. I sound like an old lady.

Oh my God, I AM an old lady! First of all I knit. And I knit in public. And I've knit in a rocking chair. Plus, I'm wearing knee high stockings under my slacks. That's what little old ladies wear! Then there are all the miscellaneous gray hairs I've found since I was 7. Add to that that I have no patience or tolerance for these disrespectful young punks today. Why in my day....(WTF? this practically is my day!) I've been looking to buy one of those granny carts with the handle and the wheels that you can use to tote around groceries, and useless junk. I collect useless junk. My bones get creaky and achy. I have doilies on some of my furniture!

Just call me Granny Dani, I guess. Hey! That rhymes!

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  • I'm Dani
  • From San Francisco
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