cabbitzilla

Time to become the planet-busting battle cruiser.

After promising the real estate agent handling the house listing (Lore) that they'd hold the mortgage files pending sale of the house, Household Finance Corporation (hereafter referred to as 'Fucking Sacks Of Flaming Shit', or FSOFS) went ahead and forwarded the loans ANYWAY to an attorney.

The notice came to the house in yesterday's mail... it was what greeted me when I arrived here. Several phone calls back and forth with both Megan -and- Lore, a buyer is currently together with Carl (financing wizard; if he can't finance it, it's not salable) to try and hammer out a contract. If that effort is successful, Megan and I will be signing the contract Sunday night and pushing fast towards closing.

I'm very very near a complete meltdown. This isn't aided by the fact that I know EXACTLY where the local office of the FSOFS is, and know for a fact that the loan officer who shanked us in the first place still works there. I've had to ice my hand where I slammed a fist into the wall... punching concrete and steel doesn't much phase the structure, but it wreaks havoc on flesh. And the pain only makes the rage stronger.

I know where he is. Sheer force of will is the only thing staying my hand; a murder charge is sure to hold up the sale of this house. There will come a day of reckoning.

The swelling's finally going down in my hand. Somewhere, sometime... I'll be there. And I'll be laughing at the flash of the blade.

Hello victims!
I can almost taste it,
It's the need to see you die,
You thought you had it made,
Well here's your final shock surprise,
How do you like it,
My unfaithful friend?
How do you like it?
How do you like my Sweet Revenge?

I'm going to return to pacing, smoking, and cursing... maybe someone will come by and give me a reason.