I don't meant to brag but...
I'm basically a genius. Honestly. Literally never took one single note, facebooked every single class... Took a 100 question exam today and got an 82%.
Had I taken the exam a week ago, there's no doubt in my mind I would have failed it. I have been so productive since deciding to take the rest of the semester off from work. I am caught up on all school work, and everything has been done right, not half assed... It just feels good. Hopefully this drive sticks around until next Wednesday, HUGE midterm next week :(
Anyways, on to the interesting stuff.
My neighbors are drug dealers, I swear it.
Last night, an armed robber broke into their home, through the back door (...?) and stole their guns and green mitsubishi beater. The house itself is a rental, it's poorly taken care of and different people are constantly in and out of the house, at all hours. Another weird thing, they park on the street along the side of their house, not the front, about a block back... And there's not any cars that park along that part of the street, so they could park up by their house... So weird, I don't get it. Just everything about this whole situation just screams isolated to me. I'm not necessarily worried about my safety or my home and belongings, just sucks having something like that so close to home, literally.
Here's what happened. Joe, my drug dealer neighbor, went to get some weed from his supplier. He gets to his supplier, gets it all weighed out and conveniently, Joe realizes he left his wallet at home. His supplier decides to cut him some slack, because Joe has been a customer for a while now. The problem is, the supplier doesn't know that Joe is actually pretty strapped right now - he just found out his baby momma is going to be his baby momma x2 and he doesn't have enough money for one pack of pampers as it is. He's also late on rent, and he has $312 in account receivables from his "good customers" that he'll probably never see. Joe grabs the weed and gets out of there as fast as possible, never planning to go back. His supplier notices how nervous he's acting, and the moment Joe leaves, he sends his two biggest guys to follow Joe and make sure he's returning ASAP with that cash. Joe gets home, gets out of his green Mitsubishi beater, nods to a pretty girl getting out of a Mustang ( ;) ) across the street, completely unaware of the two juiceheads watching his every move from the next street over. Joe sells the weed, he buys himself a steak, cooks the steak on his 7 year old, grease covered George Foreman grill, drinks a beer, and then falls asleep on his couch. He wakes up to someone smashing in his back window, two guys, yelling, pointing guns, telling him to, "Hand over the money!" Joe, still half asleep, stumbles to his feet just in time to get knocked back down. "Where's the car keys?" someone yells, and Joe points to the kitchen table. "I'll have that." the same someone mumbles back. "Found some guns, let's go. Mark will be happy." Mark, my supplier? thinks Joe... These are Mark's guys... Joe realizes what he's got himself into, and pretends to be dead, even though he hasn't been shot or knocked out... Mark's guys leave, and Joe stupidly calls the cops. The cops show up, take a report, they film the footage from my yard, my house is on ABC 6.
I should've been a journalist.
No comments:
Post a Comment