Just for those of you who do not know me...in the past 3 years the place I live has become a hostel. A hostel for immigrants. I have nothing against immigrants since most of my family is part of this group.
So, for every year I have been away at college she has rented out a room to another person. So that is one, two, three people that are strangers living in my home, my hostel. We have a crippled super-Dominican who wears button-down beach shirts every single day open to the point where you can almost see his nipples. A nice Dominican lady in her late 30s who entertains men at some bar in NJ and cooks really good. Lastly, my favorite, my Grandma's brother's brother-in-law who is like 70 and is literally standing 4-feet away telling me how he wants to move to Argentina.
I kinda wanna shoot myself. Not gonna lie. I am sitting on the arm of my sofa facing the window with my back to him not only to ignore him but because it's the only place my Mac get's service. For some reason, he doesn't seem to notice that I am having a really impt conversation with myself. I actually signed up for this blog so I'd have something to do than sit here and talk to him.
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