Last night I was cavorting throughout the manor, enjoying a nice glass of cappuccino. The high ceilings permitted the orchestral music to permeate and echo throughout the halls — instilling a calming presence throughout the house — a bit haunting with the lights dimmed. Then all of a sudden, a lunatic storm approached out of nowhere, lightening and thunder with tornado styled winds — fucking up my yard in menacing fashion. I gazed out to survey the damage, but it was too dark and I didn’t want to walk around with all of those fucking trees swinging their dicks around.
This morning, as I sipped upon my cup of black coffee, I bore witness to a horrible specter. One of my fucking ash trees was completely destroyed and a 50ft limb snapped from the main part of the tree — crashing into my woodshed and completely destroying part of the fence 20 ft behind it. To make matters inexorably worse, House Fly is due for inspection tomorrow, which means I need to haul ass and get someone to remove the tree today, fix my fucking fence, and the woodshed, before the new owners start to think they’ve moved into a hazardous locale.
It could be me thinking all of this, but something inside of me thinks this fucking house has a vendetta against me. It has been twisting its knife inside of my guts for the better part of 7 years. I’ve dealt with all of its machinations, like the true gentleman that I am. But this shit, this fucking tree, is the final straw.
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Net net, for most people today is a boring day. That’s because you have no idea what you’re doing. For those of us in the gold trade, we’re living the life and getting ready for LAMBO TIME.If you enjoy the content at iBankCoin, please follow us on Twitter