CERTIFIED BLUES

Saturday before last , we got a certified letter from the plumbing company that we owe money to, not a large sum, mind you, but it is delinquent. We have not paid this balance because of ongoing issues of being unemployed and broke ass poor and our kitchen sink, in all of it's 8 foot stainless steel glory "motorboats" like a mutha. I could correct this annoying problem, but it's a matter of principle...squared. We want our sink right, they want the money.
Additionally, we had planned to renegotiate our loan with the bank to get the funds to pay the plumbers and some other monkies on our back. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Certified mail requires a signature, which requires the postman to knock on the door. So he knocks...the dogs explode in unison warning me that that guy we bark at everyday is knocking on the door!
So, I round the dogs up and secure them lest they kill the postman, or get maced, and answer the door. It is my day off, I'm not expecting anyone so I am surfing the net in my jammy bottoms, hair akimbo, shirtless and working on my 4th screwdriver (without benefit of brushing my teeth, because after all, it's my day off) .
So I greet the postman, shirtless, with 8 ball jammy bottoms and a combination morning/coffee/vodka/orange juice/camel wides breath with railing dogs from hell pledging their intent and desire to kill the postman, whose lucky the doors to the bedrooms are shut, or look the fuck out favorite scapegoat of dogs world wide.
Throw in the 45 year old whiskey tits and grey chest hair and I think the postman would rather fight my dogs.
Anyhoo...I sign for the letter and, seeing the return address (plumbers), I don't even open it. I make another screwdriver and click on another depraved link of internet nastiness ( I recall portal of evil).
Flash forward to this past saturday, same scenario only this time I'm sporting the flaming dragon jammy bottoms and had eaten alot of garlic the night before. I spared the postman the whiskey tits, but he got everything else in spades. I left Irene and Theo out, so this deja vu was altered...the threat was right behind me, frothing at the chance for tender postman meat. I also farted at the beginning of the transaction ( just kidding, but I should of ).
I had noticed on the previous visit that our postman has a lisp...have you ever heard a stuttering lisp? Trust me, it rocks. When you factor in the dog/postman/mutilation factor.
This certified letter was from the plumbers attorney, which I opened. They are threatening to put a lien on the house, and in an attempt (I guess) to illustrate their seriousness in regard to this matter, included a copy of the form used to place a lein on one's property. I guess the intent was to intimidate us and finally force me to harvest the 100 dollar bills off that money tree I've got in the greenhouse.
Let's just say the threat was diminished greatly when the form they included was for a commercial account in arrears that owes them something in the neighborhood of $12,650.00.
That's roughly 15 times what we owe. Additionally, the lawyer says the plumbers paid $500.00 in attorney's fees in an attempt to collect the debt. They paid this asshat five large to staple the wrong document to our certified letter. Hilarious. I guess you get what you pay for.
We have every intention of paying what we owe, probably in January, when we re-fi our home loan. This commercial account probably went belly up and they won't get a cent from them. When they fix our sink, we'll settle up.
Had we called them and explained the situation, this all could have probably been avoided, and the only thing I can say to that is...I got the certified blues.
Just like millions of other people, we are in the hole. Once we were cash flush,no worries and in the next moment we were in the hole. Thanks to a certain asshole piece of shit, the president and the economy. And I can't speak for Ann, but I was like that guy in the TV commercial about debt who says " I was afraid, I was ashamed and intimidated, so I did nothing".
Things are beginning to look up, but I just have to thank that asshole piece of shit for fucking christmas up for me and mine twice in a row...may you rot in hell you coked out, selfish bastard.
It's almost like he plans it. And in doing so...I hope...seals his fate.