Work, eat, smoke dope. Life is routine.

Last night I spoke with one of the women who live downstairs. There was some drama in the house because someone was spreading a rumor how she was having her boyfriend "shack up", as the kids like to put it, in her living space and she addressed it in the house text thread.
I was cooking dinner when she came home and I caught her attention. She retold the story but let me know one little detail, she heard about the story being spread from our landlord. Funny thing is our landlord is possibly "knocking boots", to use youthful vernacular, with the other woman who lives downstairs. For those of you playing along at home, the woman who lives downstairs is also the one who had her ex-con boyfriend living with her for a few months until he demonstrated how his criminal and violent instincts were not overcome after his stint in the pokey.
The landlord threw him out on a rail.
As far as I know, the guy across the hall from me is too busy hustling a buck to talk shit about anyone. Except maybe complain about the state of the downstairs toilet. As for the guys upstairs? One guy's new, the other guy is either coaching soccer or working, the other guy is the landlord's friend, and the landlord also lives upstairs.
It doesn't take more than a handful of braincells to assume the source is the other woman living downstairs who is potentially engaged in "intimate relations" with the landlord. For what it's worth that woman is trouble, and I sincerely hope the landlord is well-aware of it.

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