now that i’m away from the mold carpeted apartment, i think i’m getting sick. i’ve got soda pop in all my sinus cavaties, or at least that’s what it feels like. of course, until i move (which i have decided should be April 1) any and all ailments (including degenerative bone disease and the itchy, itchy strain of armpit cancer infecting my left pit) will be blamed on the mold in the carpet.
MOLD IN MY CARPET.
isn’t that just about the grossest thing on the face of the earth? they have promised to shampoo the carpet, but come on. . . it’s not like you can just shampoo that stuff out. i wonder if you can sue for having to live in totally grosser than gross accomodations.
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Um, your filter is a bit extreme.
goddamn motherfucking right it is motherfucker.
ok, that was a test and it worked. what’s the deal?
Apparently, “maladies”, “DOCTOR” or “Half of New York would be billionaires” triggered it.
I said…
“Perhaps if you had a DOCTOR verify that your maladies were as a result of the mold then yeah, your could sue.
But just for grossness? No. If that were the case, then half of New York would be billionaires.”
And if this doesn’t work, I’m kicking this motherfucking fucker to the fucking curb, goddamnit.
POO!!!
People always want to sue over mold. It’s just MOLD, people. Where do you think penicillin and blue cheese come from?
but it’s a carpet made of mold! and i don’t eat blue cheese. so there.
Now that I have totally set you up for the “eating carpet” joke, I find that I can’t follow through.
Damn!
And thank goodness! Eating mold carpet is yukky, no matter what your sexual preferences are!