Pollyanna can kiss my ass

Hours after taking that romantic "birds taking a shit on my roof" photo essay, I was verbally reprimanded by our oafish, ex-con landlord for being "inhumane" to our dog. See, he was fixing a light on the 4th floor (let's get this out of the way...It's a miracle that this asshole remembered to fix anything in the first place) and he heard Stanley whining... or "crying ALL DAY LONG" as he put it. "I just think it's really inhumane to leave a dog all day like that."
"Well, we don't leave him all day." (Not that it's any of your damn business!)
"Yeah, well he's crying ALL DAY long and I know the owner wouldn't like that at all."
(I'm betting the owner wouldn't like to be woken up in the middle of the night by door slamming and bad rap music either, which is why she probably pawned her son off on our building in the first place).
"Look, I've talked with all of our neighbors and the general consensus is that he whines for like five minutes when we leave and then he's quiet. I mean, if he's crying all day, why is he asleep no matter when I come back to check on him?"
"Oh, I don't know about that, I just think it's really inhumane."
(Say "inhumane" again, motherfucker!)
"Well, ya know...this isn't an ideal situation for us either we plan on moving out when our lease is up in October so..."
"Yeah, well even if you move out to the country, I mean...his crying won't bother anybody, but it would still be inhumane to leave him inside like that."
(MOTHER. FUCKER.)
"Ya know, I've talked to my vet and the dog's trainer and they both agree that based on his breed, he's an indoor dog and that it would be "inhumane" for us to leave him outside so..."
"Well, I'm just saying because I'm an animal person and I just think it's really inhumane, if I lived up there I would never have an animal."
"Ok."
"I mean, I just think that's really inhumane."
"Ok."
At this point I just started walking away while he was mid-sentence. I had drum sticks in my hand and was in grave danger of using them to stabs out his eyes.
Look, I know that people have different opinions as far as what is best for domesticated animals. Like, he has a cat that he keeps outside in the dead of winter in the name of freedom and I find that irresponsible given our downtown neighborhood where there have been numerous fox attacks on cats and countless hit and runs. But, I would never say anything to him because it's none of my goddamn business. (*This rule is totally moot if there is actual abuse taking place, of course). My dog is loved and adored and spoiled beyond all reason. He takes about three long walks a day where about mid-way he stops and begs to be carried because he's a lazy little bastard. But, he's MY lazy little bastard.
That night Lars (who is unbearably sessy these days) and I decided that deposit be damned, we weren't going to put up with this looney hole anymore. So yesterday I started looking for rental homes (houses, because apartment living has seriously stopped amusing me) and a friend of mine from work was like, "why don't you just try to buy a place?"
HUH.
Well,
Scary.
Commitment to Salt Lake.
Shaky credit history. (Ha! being young was fun back then. Shit.)
Crappy salaries.
No landlords, but we love them so much.
.....Wait. I mean, it can't hurt to try, right? As it turns out, my friend, Sandy's husband is a realtor (and horribly nice guy). I emailed him yesterday and he's already hooked me up with a mortgage lender. I'm completely nervous. I mean, this guy could take one look at our credit reports and laugh right in our little reformed & responsible faces. Laugh his ass off. It could happen.
But, what if? What if we could have our own house?
Ok, everyone has to cross their fingers and pray to the lending gods that they may take pity on our hopeful little souls.