Okay, maybe we waited a bit too long to sign the lease. But we figured it was a done deal.
See, Jenny's friend, Andrea, was moving out of her cheap, cinderblock house up on The Hill, and Jenny & I were gonna take over her lease starting in mid-August. It would've worked out perfectly: Jenny's house--the one she owns--was due for renovations, and the contractors said they'd be done around January. Andrea's lease was up January 31. Jenny & I figured we could move into the place Andrea was leaving, take over her lease, and stay there until Jenny's dream palace, gutted and rebuilt with city rotating funds, was ready for us to move in.
What we didn't anticipate was exactly what happened: the day we were supposed to sign the lease--about two weeks before my current lease was up--we were informed by the landlord that Andrea's house had been rented to someone else.
Poof. Gone, just like that. And two weeks left to find a different place, sign a lease, and move in. Fat chance.
1 bottle Mad Dog 20/20
40 oz. Colt 45 (or comparable malt liquor beverage)
In my distress, I decided the best thing I could do was mix a drink. I called it a Guttersplat cuz when you're homeless and drinking cheap booze to bury the despair, the only proper place to puke is in the gutter. Prepare yourself with some Mad Dog 20/20, some Colt 45, and a roadside. You'll need it.
Down but not yet out, J mixes his nastiest drink yet — the Guttersplat. (Later superceded by the Maggot de Menthe!)