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New neighbor, kinda
Aug. 27th, 2002 01:17 pmThere's this guy living in our basement.
Seriously...he lives there now. I don't know WHY someone would want to live in our basement, but well, he does.
His name is Joe. He is crazy, just ask his arm:
"Mi vida loca!" right beneath the Superman shield.
GAH!
Nothing like a bad tattoo to start the day off well.
I came down the stairs today and opened the door to find the strange Joe-man sitting on the porch feeding chocolate to the Sebastian-kitty. I said hey, and Chloe, our chicken-with-fur (did I mention our dog is a total WIMP?!) went bounding out past him.
When we came back from our walk, I sat to talk with him. Hell, I figure if I ever need to fix a breaker or something, I better know the guy a bit before I walk in on him in his PJ's.
*Joe is from Cleveland.
*Joe has lived in L.A.
*Joe has a LOT of reeeally bad tattoos...and not the good kind of bad either. I think he got them all from the FLASH on the walls or something. *shiver*
*Joe has strange, squinty brown eyes.
*Joe always wears a bandana.
*Joe knows our landlord, Andy, from a bar on west 25th, where Andy asked him to help fix up the house (including the basement) and he can stay here AND get paid.
*Joe looks like he ecaped from a prison somewhere.
*Joe is pretty mellow.
*Joe knew Tremont back in it's "wild days."
*Joe likes my white tattoo.
*Joe needs to stay out of the way of Jawndomay.
Yeah, he's a nice guy and all, but well, it's just strange waking up and first thing walking out to some guy sitting on your front porch. I'm trying to get to know him, trying to be a good neighborly kinda gal, but well, I dunno.
I like my solitude when i have it.
Him being on the porch prohibits my sitting out there and reading a book peacefully.
grr.
Seriously...he lives there now. I don't know WHY someone would want to live in our basement, but well, he does.
His name is Joe. He is crazy, just ask his arm:
"Mi vida loca!" right beneath the Superman shield.
GAH!
Nothing like a bad tattoo to start the day off well.
I came down the stairs today and opened the door to find the strange Joe-man sitting on the porch feeding chocolate to the Sebastian-kitty. I said hey, and Chloe, our chicken-with-fur (did I mention our dog is a total WIMP?!) went bounding out past him.
When we came back from our walk, I sat to talk with him. Hell, I figure if I ever need to fix a breaker or something, I better know the guy a bit before I walk in on him in his PJ's.
*Joe is from Cleveland.
*Joe has lived in L.A.
*Joe has a LOT of reeeally bad tattoos...and not the good kind of bad either. I think he got them all from the FLASH on the walls or something. *shiver*
*Joe has strange, squinty brown eyes.
*Joe always wears a bandana.
*Joe knows our landlord, Andy, from a bar on west 25th, where Andy asked him to help fix up the house (including the basement) and he can stay here AND get paid.
*Joe looks like he ecaped from a prison somewhere.
*Joe is pretty mellow.
*Joe knew Tremont back in it's "wild days."
*Joe likes my white tattoo.
*Joe needs to stay out of the way of Jawndomay.
Yeah, he's a nice guy and all, but well, it's just strange waking up and first thing walking out to some guy sitting on your front porch. I'm trying to get to know him, trying to be a good neighborly kinda gal, but well, I dunno.
I like my solitude when i have it.
Him being on the porch prohibits my sitting out there and reading a book peacefully.
grr.
