WTF Wedsnesday is Back with a Vengance

My landlord rented my tiny two bedroom house out from under me, while I was scraping together the deposit.

MotherfuckerMotherfuckerMotherfuckerMotherfucker. 

I am back to square one.

How did I find out?  The landlord called to see if I could get out two days early.

I said no problem, since I was renting another house from them, just waiting to get the deposit together. 

Really?  Which house? 

Blah de blah blah way... No, that's already been rented. 

Yeah, to ME. 

No, someone is moving in as we speak.

 

My moving problems were solved, mentally I was already planning Little O's birthday celebration in October.

 

Zippers, and Kidneys, and Houses, Oh My!

House hunting, on a teeny budget, with terrible credit.

Still a middle class white girl who'd like to keep her children away from gangs, meth, roaches, and freeway underpasses.

I've looked at some funkadelic houses in the last few days. The things that are in my budget are all three bedrooms made out of one bedroom houses. I'm not sure I'm ready to put Big O in a bedroom that is not technically attached to the house. I answered an ad for a 2 and 1/3 bedroom house. That one was detached, too. I saw another one that had, if I'm not mistaken, plywood counter top in one spot.

Is it bad that I'm considering the plywood one? I asked the landlord if he'd mind if I tiled it, since I'm kind of crafty, and he said he wouldn't mind at all. I will have to clarify that I expect materials to be shaved off of the rent.
Can we talk about rent? Sweet lord tiny baby Jesus. I'm too old and fat to sell my eggs, so I'm going to have to sell a kidney.

Wait! Can't you regenerate your liver if you donate part of it? How long does that take to regrow, and can I just have 'em put a zipper in so we can do it again when it grows back? I thinks the Honey's is pickled...Big o is a fine strapping boy, though. We could probably get two or three runs from his liver...

I'll keep you guys updated. But if you know anyone shopping for a kidney...

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Okay, I've tried being respectful, and I can't take it any more!

Look down.

WTF is WRONG with Chesty Puller's forehead?

Did they photoshop two pictures together?

FRRRRReaky.

Why can't I title anything?

Links:
I've added several blogs that I have been stalking for a while, and then just reverse alphabetized the whole thing, so if you notice that I've stopped visiting for a while, it may be that I have lost you in the shuffle.

Okay, seriously, why can't I title anything?

We've got a whole lot of nothing going on--oh, except that I just got a call from a realtor who is representing my property owner in the sale of my home, would I like to buy it? If I could tack on another bedroom, sure, I'd love to. But my credit sucks ass, and there is no way in hell I'm going to be able to get into anything on this side of town for the bargain rate I'm paying now. Not even to rent.

I do not want to move in with the Honey's mother, as much as I like her. I went down that path with my first marriage, and living with Mama Dina would mean essentially living with all of them. I can't do it.

I don't want to go to the TOUGH side of town--BIg O is NOT prepared for that. Little O's preschool is right before I get on the freeway to go to work. I am beautifully situated, even if my four year old sleeps in our room. I can suck it up for this zip code, but my finances can't. I want to cry.