The tenant I’ve been trying to get out of my rental property for months is the scum of the Earth. She’s a living, breathing example of narcissistic idiocy — a freeloading sack of shit, a prole, a plebeian with the intellectual capacity of swamp rat crossed with a radioactive hamster from a nuclear waste experiment. The sole focus of her life is how to most easily accomplish nothing, how to gorge herself on processed crap until her rotund little body expires from the resulting cholesterol surge into the arteries supplying blood to that pathetically small lump of grey matter she claims to think with.

Even as evil, she is small-minded. Her life’s focus for the last six months has been how to escape paying her landlord $700 a month. At least Bernie Madoff thought big, at least Saddam Hussein had aspirations in his quest for genocidal evil. This tenant has nothing, waffling around on my property with a retarded, cross-eyed basset hound (no joke, this is the dumbest dog I’ve ever seen) that is, despite all evolutionary logic, still more intelligent than her.

They say eyes are the window the human soul, but any time I have made eye contact with her, I have seen nothing. It’s like staring into a toilet bowl, expecting the wisdom of the ages to flow forth from the bowels of the sewer. It would be like expecting matters of philosophical betterment to suddenly appear in 4chan (but I repeat myself). There is nothing. She is a poster child for everything that is wrong with my country, my civilization. She is like a slug, trailing waste everywhere she goes.

She is a nothing, a biological device consuming oxygen and Cheetos that, when it finally shuts down and ceases to function, will neither be missed nor even noticed. These things infest the Earth and contribute nothing of substance, do nothing of worth and exist only to infuriate their betters.

So now my attorney will deal with her, and on sheer principle of the thing, I’m going to sue her for every fucking penny her miserable little life can provide. I don’t care if it’s a cent, or all the back rent she owes after months of freeloading like a cockroach in a pile of shit. And when her contaminated, miserable possessions are sitting on the sidewalk and the crocodile tears streaming down her face, I will smile at a job well done.

It’s the principle of the thing, after all.