Dear Neighbors

Stop asking me for money. I may have it, I may not, but the fact remains, you never pay me back. If I’m assured of receiving money in a short period of time, I have no problem spotting you a few bucks, but the few bucks never show up and right now you’re already indebted to me for $100. If you’re that poor, then you should know what a $100 means to me. I didn’t loan it all at once, but it’s built up over time. And every time I loan you a little more, you promise the entire amount will be paid back “when you get paid,” or “when we get that loan.” Whatever. I’m not your bank. I know how it feels to be down and out and not have a dime to your name. However, wife, tell your husband to get off his lazy ass and get a job, ANY JOB, to help with household expenses instead of calling me at 7:03 a-fucking-m, the absolute worst time of day to call and ask me for ANYTHING, to see if I can get him some fucking Copenhagen and, of course, he’ll pay me back tonight. Yes, they loaded my child support, hoorah! No, you’re not getting any of it. See, I have this electric bill for $55, and this gas bill for $124, a phone bill for $105, and a car payment I should have made in December, insurance for that car, Nate’s karate, my Curves (not necessities, but we’re entitled), my $89 water bill, oh and I’m still paying the bank back for an overdraft I had, probably because I loaned you money. I’m entitled to do what I want with my money and you’re not entitled to any of it, regardless of how you try to make me feel. I’ve loaned you money in the past, and as I recall, you never paid that back either, so technically, you owe me a lot more. I’ve given you food. I’ve let you use major appliances and my phone more times than I can count. You’ve “borrowed” toilet paper and trash bags, neither of which I want returned, but I’m done. Get off your lazy fucking ass and get a job. And don’t feel bad, I ragged on the Muslims yesterday.