Note for my next life

Well, now, this has been a thrill a minute!

Came home tonight, and Avery and his dogs were still here. No excuses, no obvious effort to move, so I got out of the Saab, went in the house and called the sheriff's office. Then, I went out and starting carrying his crap to the curb. It's appalling... the stuff all smells like dog and garbage, even the stuff that appears to have some minor value. I ended up coming in and washing my hands and arms several times so that I didn't smell like a dump when the officers showed up.

Alas, Maryland law has a special surprise... anyone who lives on your property, even if they haven't paid you a nickel rent, even if they've made commitments to get out when you told them to do so, has certain rights and has to be formally "evicted." Avery began yelling about how he "would call four newspapers and they'll print every word I say."

He seemed befuddled when I told him, "I don't read newspapers and frankly, I don't give a fuck what anybody says about me."

Nevertheless, the scene was unpleasant enough that the deputies who responded persuaded Avery to move his shit out of the barn overnight and call his "friends" to assist in his getting his poetry-writing flaky ass down the road posthaste.

Melody, if you're reading this, you were right, OK? Yes, it was more trouble than it's worth. No good deed goes unpunished in America. In my next life, I'll leave the motherfucker to freeze and take my karmic chances.