The Continuing Adventures Of Your Own Personal Jesus

Just a quick one for now. This guy reminded me of a cross between Bobcat Goldthwait and the character in South Park who drinks all the coffee. He came into the office all twitches and nervous tics and stood there waiting. Well, as much as a person can stand in one place bouncing up and down on each foot. When he finally got to me he asked about bond assistance. No problems there. I started to explain. No good. "Slow down!! Slow down!!" You're going too fast." I slowed down and spoke each and every word clearly. Nope, not good enough. He cocked his head and then spoke again. "Arrgghhhh!! I'm not a f*cking idiot man!! Go faster! I got places to go!!" I went faster. "Slow down!! You're going too fast again!!" I couldn't win. I just gave up and spoke at my normal pace. I might have practiced my Russian for what it was worth. He needed a place to stay. After everything I explained, "You have to find a place by your...

I knew she'd be back in, eventually. I'd come across here previously in another office. We'd housed her for the briefest of times, months really. At no stage had she been a model tenant, quite the opposite really. In those few short months she'd not paid rent once and, even better, when she moved she amassed a huge debt because she'd trashed the place. I've seen the photos and they're amazing really. Back doors where you don't expect to find back doors, an inside door smeared with so much excreta that you'd be forgiven for thinking that it'd been repainted, standard car bodies in the yards, holes in the walls, bathroom trashed and wildlife living in the stove. She'd only left that day you can only imagine what kind of a parent allows a young child to live in such filth, filth to the point where there was a neat little pile of excreta in the corner of the child's room. "Don't use the toilet," she must have said, ...