I had mine call me up repeatedly, to the point I was evicted due to nonpayment of rent because I regressed to a depression I hadn't had since my grandfather died, my mother had cancer, and my dad would threaten to have me sent to a now close facility to be raped by [insert racial slur here] if I wasn't sufficiently deferential to his tantrums.

I'm typing this post on a laptop I was never able to replace because when I escaped the above, I was laid off by the last in a string of so called nonprofits.

Fuck landlords -- social media is not play. You can adopt a handle, to avoid the sorts of issues that arise when someone attaches their name to a post in an intimatry way, or to avoid persecution by those with power -- but there is no play here.

If you, as an adult, go out onto the internet to bully and harass those you are supposed to give quiet enjoyment, you deserve to end up in the ground with Jeffrey Epstein and Jean Luc Brunel.

Now, even under full blown communism you'd have had someone managing the apartments -- who is in what unit, what needs fixed... but this is more of a role where one serves as a custodian of a public good.

People who do stupid things like... try to key into their tenant's apartment and glare when they're on the phone with Google doing an interview deserve the terror that I saw in the eyes of mine every time he gave a wide berth in the hall that I might invoke stand your ground if he so much

I'm oversharing, but I don't care -- having someone interfere with my job searh, with my quiet enjoyment, the same moment my family withdrew support bevcause I refused to be an unpaid caregiver to unrepentant child abusers turn me into a cold man who you might not recognize if you knew me as the straight edge nerd who used to read Mad Magazine in the corner.

"Fuck around, find out." as the kids say.

This is not a play, this is not a TV show nor a movie -- this is real life.