Journal of a marginalized white male &trade: In my neighborhood #14 By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

In my neighborhood #14
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

Shawn "Napster" Fanning decided to become a real estate mogul. He began to develop the property next my subdivision and began to build copycat versions of the models in my neighborhood. Shawn the "ass pirate" did not even buy the land he just began to develop. the fucktard even named the streets the same as the streets in my subdivision. I do not know how the post office stamped that one ok but there you go more government inequities and stupidity they should do a comedy real life series based on government services.
The duplicate street names are not the only problem the quality of the building is in question and Shawn is allowing the "home owners" to build their own houses as a low cost replacement for hired skilled labor.
This owner building has created very poor quality homes whose poor construction will eventually reflect through the markets desire for my homes. In example why would I pay that much for your home when next door is the same home for less or free. Also why would I WANT to live next door to such a poorly constructed neighborhood obviously this subdivision does not value their neighborhood or the quality of their homes.
The architects did not get any royalties for the use of their designs so they are pissed and the neighbors are pissed and the HOA just wrings their hands saying they are restricted in what they can do.
Shit, I skip edging my front yard one week and they have 300 dollar attorneys writing 50 dollar letters to me about the care and maintenance of my yard, but when a real tragedy or a real threat to home value arises they are restricted in what they can do, their hands are tied. PUSSIES all of them.
Shawn "Napster" Fanning believes that the houses will relieve the cost the government spends to support the homeless and there by alleviating the troublesome burden of the government assistance and therefore be a boon to the econimy and inturn raise the value for everyone. this is more of the Regan trickle down slop that the Demorats tried to feed us about taxing the rich less and the middle class more. fucking homos (not that there is anything wrong with that)
so his plan is to "let the houses be free" (or very cheap)
but now too many people are living in the houses. too many people chose to build their own free house and since the houses are free they are not valued buy the "owners" so the houses are being unkempt and unruly. The lawns are not complete and addresses are not post the same causing huge confusion and duplicate address on the same street. The entire mess looks like a mexican shanty town. Raw sewage is running in open-air ditches between the houses to the gutters. Bastard children are playing the ditches and not going to church or school. They just get their education from MTV and their upbringing from Neopets.
Some houses are not finished right. For instance there would be a bedroom in one section of a model and there is nothing just empty house space. Some should be two stories and they are one story. The rooms are built smaller than they should be. Some are just built in a smaller scale so that they can fit on the property, but the house is unlivable due to the cramped rooms. In addition, some are just not finished and never will be completed.
The entire system turned into a socialist mess and now the new subdivision looks like a hobo town.
And again the HOA refuses to take matters seriously.
So the neighbors and I went in the night and raided the neighborhood and burnt the shacks to the ground. Some of us went as concerned citizens while many more went as crazed psychopaths that just wanted to burn some shit and beat up some humans.
It was an epic battle many lives were lost and many brave souls were sent to the maker of lives. I will not do their memories justice by recounting the battle but I do believe the battle and the souls lost deserve some acknowledgement.
We went in from four directions I was in the group led by Tommy Lee and Wendy. We crested the hill that separated the two neighborhoods and we could see that Lee Ving’s group had started early as they had already begun burning houses (I said psychopaths).
We charged down the hill and began kicking down the weakest of shacks. Methodically knocking on structures to get the inhabitants out and then setting the wood ablaze.
About three hours in I was getting tired and my foot hurt something fierce. I have inhaled more smoke and noxious fumes than I would like my healthcare insurance to know about. We reached the center of the neighborhood about the same time as Pam and Kidd’s squad.
Shawn Fanning’s subdivision was out flanked and out maneuvered we had them bunched in the center of the development by the amenities, some were forced so tight that Wendy was standing on heads so she could swing that fire axe of hers.
I saw Henry walking through the carnage flaying his arms, talking about how much good he does for the country in his so typical spoken word cadence. “I do this for the country” He stammered, “and I do that. I speak about the injustices of the government because the little guy has no voice. In addition, I was gifted with this incredible talent and opportunity to speak for everyone. That is why I speak about how everyone is doing it wrong and they should listen to me because I know how the world should be and I know what everyone should do to make the world a better place a place that would be right for all humans AND animals.” He blah blah blahed right past me as I fought three, seriously three these Fanning fuckers and he did not even stop to help. Yeah he stopped. He stopped, he looked at me in close combat, and he asked if he could have his birdbath back. He asked if it was because I hated birds. I told him between dodging bullets and knife stabs that I liked birds as much as the next person, but the deeds forbid lawn art. “bird hater. You are a fucker, you hate the environment, and you do not represent my best interests. Next year during the elections I will beat you. And he walked on chanting some Zen mantra about peace and love.
At one point in the blue twilight of the dawn sun I saw death walking through the mob swinging his scythe just cutting them down like wheat being harvested. I felt sorry for death for it was clear that his job would never be done, because as his swing was complete and the Shawn Fanning residents fell more would spring up in their place. The writs and subpoenas swung and houses fell but we never really began to make any progress.
Finally on my knees in the blood and mud and tears I could see that the residents were now numbering twice what they were when we started. Like cockroaches on HGH, they just grew and grew and I could see fledgling bands in the mob offering versions of the homes in hopes to garner publicity and press about their band and the aid and comfort they were administering to the wicked pirates that we were in a death grip with.
At one point I had to take a dump. So I left the battle to go home and use my toilet that I so love. I find that a comfortable setting is conducive to proper bowel movements and at my late age proper bowel movements are important and cherished. 42 minutes later, I climbed o the top of the hill to see that we had lost.
The shantytown looked as if no one had even been there. Short of a nuclear bomb, we are doomed.
In addition, the HOA just refuses to complete their promised end of the relationship.
To hell in a hand basket I tell ya’, to hell with us all.