So I’m talkin’ to 6Cats about why the old bitches, OldBlindDude and WifeyPoo, decided to throw yours truly out on the street with no explanation and no warning aside from 20 f•cking minutes to pack everything I own .
The verbal contract was that I had 3 months to live there and complete the mural.
I lived there 45 days and worked my ass off only to be told that I was not going to be allowed to complete it.
They informed me that they never lock the back door.
Then they piss me off by kicking me out with no explanation and no warning. I now seriously expect them to steal their own shit and blame me for it, because that’s the kind of people they are.
While I was staying there, every time I tried to do something to help out around the house I either got yelled at by OldBlindDude, or WifeyPoo would tell me that I shouldn’t be doing that because I’ll hurt my leg and I should just sit down.
Their #1 complaint about me = Didn’t do enough around the house.
Both of them worked during the day, and WifeyPoo only came home after 7pm. The two of them would sit in the den and watch really boring old-people tv shows. I would go in to socialize for a few minutes every evening. But I was only allowed to talk during commercials and was told to immediately stop talking when their shows came back on.
Their #2 complaint about me = Does not socialize enough
Due to the nerve condition in my leg, I am only able to sit and/or stand for short periods of time. I walk with a severe limp and often have to use a cane. WifeyPoo has a bad knee and OldBlindDude can’t see my limp. So when I complain about my pain, WifeyPoo gets annoyed because she has pain too but doesn’t complain about it all the time. Her reasoning is that nobody wants to hear it, especially someone else who is suffering with their own pain.
Their complaint #3 = Only works on the mural a few hours a day. Apparently, I did not complain about my leg pain enough, because OldBlindGuy says he was not aware that I had leg pain because he could not see my limp (I guess the multiple surgical procedures I’ve had, and the constant fussing over me that his wife was doing, did not supply enough clues for him to grasp the concept).
Fat old people be complainin’ no matter what I do. They sure did love telling everyone how they were SOOOOOO charitable though, taking me in and feeding me and treating me like family, blah blah blah.
Well I call Bullsh•t! I was hired to do a job. I was not allowed to finish that job and was not paid for the time I DID spend on it. I had a place to go and I am definitely not starving. So they not only didn’t do me any favors, they cost me 45 days of my time when I could have been working on something else. Something that DID pay.
And I have a family. I sure as f•ck ain’t calling them fugly B•tch-asses by the names “Mom” and “Dad”. I knew they were full of sh•t when they told me to call them that on the very first day I met them.
F•ck You! My real parents are a billion times better than you Fat F•cking Fakers!
And why you be telling strangers that you don’t lock your back door. Idiots! Who knows how many people know that now. What if ya’ll morons get robbed? I know you not going to be looking for me. Cause if I was gonna rob ya’ll, I’d finish the job and tattoo your ugly f•cking faces with the words “I’m a lying fat f•ck who p•sses on people and calls it charity”.