John had a girlfriend

Last week apparently, the police pulled a dead body out of a shack across the street. Anna and I were on our way out to the car when we ran into Mike. He informed us of this. When we walked outside, sure enough, there were a bunch of cops surrounding a shack across the street with a bunch of onlookers. According to Mike, the person had been dead for several days.
Macy quit Restart on Wednesday. Don't worry. Her probation officer intervened, and she was back on Thursday. According to Macy, she just got sick of the whole school thing on Wednesday and decided the best course of action was to simply walk out of the program. I guess her probation officer managed to convince her that three hours at restart for another month and a half was better than juvenile detention for a month, with no chance to ever go back to school again.
We gave Daisy a bath the other day, but she stinks again.
I'm out of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea again. No one has ever suffered more.
On Thursday, John came in to the office with a woman I hadn't seen before. She announced that she was his girlfriend and that she wanted to move in with him. I told her that I would have to contact my boss about it since I didn't know if non-relations could be added to a lease. She then spent fifteen minutes acting like it was up to me and repeating these phrases: "I'm a trustworthy person" "Me and John are in love" "I will always pay my rent on time" "We're going to get married." It didn't matter how many times I told her that it was not up to me. She wouldn't shut up. I assured her I would contact my boss right away, and I would tell her what my boss had to say about the situation. Finally, they left. Except, they came back again later that day. This time she wanted to know what exactly I said in my email to my boss. I told her. I was then treated to fifteen more minutes of her repeating the same phrases as before.
On Friday, I was treated to the same thing. It was worse though because I had to start explaining that I really had not heard from my boss yet, and that it really wasn't up to me. So she added another phrase to her repertoire: "I understand that." The problem with that phrase is that it was always followed by a "but." And I got to hear fifteen more minutes of about how she and John will get married and how she will pay her rent. Once she repeated herself enough, she decided she would also inform me that John had no hot water. I went with them to check. I turned on the kitchen sink. It was plenty hot. I had her feel it. She told me it was lukewarm. I turned on the shower. It was plenty hot. She told me it was lukewarm. She asked if I could turn up the water heater. I explained that there were only two water heaters for the whole building, and if I turned them up any higher, I'd risk the old people burning themselves. She looked at me like I was crazy. I just wanted to grab her head and scream "I'm sorry that you think the waters cold, but if I turn it up any higher, you will melt!"
Today, they did not come to the office, but I learned this was simply because they were not on the premises. I was loading dishes into the community dishwasher when they came in. You know what happened next. When she finally shut up, I went back to the apartment. Then comes a knock on the door. There she is again, laughing at my misery. Well maybe she wasn't laughing, but she was telling me that they had locked themselves out of John's bathroom. So I got to listen to her whole spiel while I manipulated the lock with a tiny screwdriver. This time I was treated to another new phrase: "we can't let this happen again."
Tonight, Anna and I pulled up to the apartment. As soon as we stepped out of the car, John opened up his door and tells me, "Don't worry about her anymore. We got into it over my kids. She was talking down about them, so I told her to get the Hell out." I assured him that I was sorry to hear that. But I couldn't help laughing a little as Anna and I walked away.
We held a Reformation Day party on Saturday for the church kids. We helped them carve pumpkins (which really meant that I ended up carving most of the pumpkins), we fed them lots of candy, and we went on a hayride. My butt may never be the same after that hayride. There wasn't room in the hay-cart, so Anna and I sat in the bed of the pickup. I couldn't feel my man-bits.
Yes, in case you were wondering, I have been doing some deer hunting. No, I haven't killed anything. I've passed up a few shots on does. I actually would have shot two of them, except there was an even bigger doe behind them, but she winded me before I got a shot at her. On Saturday morning, I did see a rather nice buck, but he chose not to actually walk by my stand.
I should shower.
My butt is still seriously sore.
Sky blue boxer-briefs with black and white horizontal stripes.
It's bedtime. Anna has to get up early to continue her national chain of bakery/cafe restaurants training.