March 29, 2002 | 11:08 AM

7Y)### Thurston St.

Ronnie Jackson still lives in our apartment.

Ronnie Jackson is still crazy as a loon. And growing crazier by the day.

He doesn�t wash or shave. He gains 75 lbs. He wears the same soiled tie dyed tee shirt every day. He looks like a cross between Charlie Manson and Dom Delouise.

His room smells like sweat and urine and stale pot smoke. He seldom emerges from there, which is fine by me.

Besides going to his telemarketing job (at a place very much like the Stupid Company but far more ghetto) and meeting his dealer at the T station, Ronnie never ever leaves the apartment. He spends his time glued to his television set, watching (of all things) Lifetime Movies of the Week.

Sometimes Ronnie sits at the kitchen table staring into space, snarfing bong hit after bong hit and glaring maniacally at anyone who so much as looks at Jenn.

It is with great sadness I report that for all practical purposes, in the Spring of 2000, despite how abusive and scary he�s been, Ronnie and Jenn are still dating. Supposedly they broke up, but it is nearly impossible to live in the same apartment as someone with whom you�ve been romantically involved and not revert back to fucking that person.

Especially if that person is crazy and you are afraid of him.

And especially if you have good reason to be afraid.

Very good reason.

Jenn is terrified that if she stops fucking Ronnie, he will kill us all.

This may sound like an over-reaction, but in hindsight I don�t think it was.

Ronnie Jackson makes vague threats against Jenn�s welfare, and against John and I.

I don�t find this out until much, much later. Everything happens behind the scenes, in the privacy of Ronnie's pig sty bedroom, and I am only privy to a foreboding tension and fear. I don't actually know what the hell is going on. If I did I probably would have totally lost my shit.

In Ronnie�s twisted sociopathic mind, John and I have somehow stolen Jenn�s friendship away from him.

(Gee--never mind that he�s the one who drew obscene pictures of her and left them out on the kitcehn table for all to see. He�s the one who told her he hoped she�d get hit by a car. He�s the one who threw a chair at her, and threatened to kill himself in the apartment if she went out for drinks with us. Somehow it�s our fault that Jenn isn�t as thrilled to be around him as she once was. He is of course, the victim in this scenario. Poor, poor stoned piss smelling Ronnie Jackson.)

I am mostly oblivious to the goings- on. Jenn doesn�t really discuss her relationship with Ronnie that much, and although I am appalled by what I�ve seen, I figure it isn�t my business to interfere. Besides, I have enough problems worrying about my own bizarre love life. And I am so depressed that I am barely even functioning at this point. Not much grabs my attention.

It is April, and John and I discuss what we want to do about a living situation for the following Fall. Despite how badly our relationship is going in certain ways, we still love each other (in whatever manner we�re capable of doing so), and we decide to continue living together.. The thought of not having him in my life terrifies me. I keep hoping that everything will be OK, that he�ll leave the Stupid Company and we�ll be happy again.

I mean, I�ve made so many sacrifices. It has to work out, right?

Oddly enough, from John�s point of view, everything is grand between us.

It�s all fine�just fine with me. You�re the neurotic one with all the issues. I�m happy as a god damned clam.

(then why aren�t you fucking me for mutherfuck�s sake????)

We could renew our current lease, but neither of us wants to stay in the apartment for a variety of reasons.

Our first thought is to find a one bedroom for the two of us to share. This doesn�t seem like an insurmountable task. Just a couple years before 1 bedrooms in Allston/Brighton were between $600 and $800/ month, which split between two (grossly underpaid) professionals is perfectly doable.

But something has happened. Something almost... unspeakable.

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark...

The Great Economic Boom.

Haven�t you heard? Tech stocks are shooting through the roof! Pointless companies providing irrelevant services are springing up out of nowhere! The unemployment rate is at .05%! Lots and lots and lots of people are getting filthy rich!

And they�re all moving to Boston!

Where oh where are all of these rich people going to live?

Oh what�s that Mr. Landlord? Did you have something to say?

Hey, I�ve got a great idea! Let�s take advantage of the lack of rent control, and raise the rent on average regular apartments that average regular people have been living in for years�you know, people like nurses, policemen, teachers, and those bleeding heart types who work for non profit environmental companies-- unncessary people who aren�t making a killing on the stock market-- Let�s raise their rent by over 100% so that they leave (good riddance! Who needs teachers and environmentalists around sullying the solid gold finish on our Brahmin blue blood city!) And then we, the landlords, can make thousands and thousands more dollars a month feeding on yuppies!

I look in the paper and am greeted with this irony: now that I make an OK salary (it is much less than my job should command but I am too stupoid to realize that yet)�about $24,000/year before taxes, everything is completely out of my price range. One bedroom apartments in Allston/Brighton are going for $1300/month. John and I both have student loans and credit card debt. We can�t afford that kind of rent, especially since we�d have to come up with first, last, security deposit, and realtor fee

(Don�t even get me started on the realtor fee and how outrageous it is that you have to pay someone an entire first month�s rent to fucking unlock a door and lie to you about how those cracks in the ceiling will be fixed, and of course the shower head, which is from 1947 and covered in mildew, will be replaced.)

Time for Plan B.

John says,

We should get a 2 bedroom with a roommate. Rent would be doable if we did it that way.

And I say,

We have had such bad luck with roommates, and there are so few people I would even considering living with. No�scratch that. I can�t think of anybody that I�d want to live with.

John stares at me.

I can think of the perfect person.

Who?

But I know who it is before he even says it. And he�s right. She would be the perfect person if it weren�t for that one little problem.

I sigh.

OK. What about Ronnie?

Stay Tuned for Part the Forty-Second...

How could that happen?

How could that happen again?

Where the fuck was I looking

When all his horses came in?

And he built an army

Of kamikaze

Ten thousand willing

Pilots flying

Interfacing

Space and beyond

Built an army

To come and find me

Beyond all reason

Beyond all my hopes

The call of duty

Another war zone

(Makes me moan)

Kamikaze

Kamikaze

You can't touch me

Kamikaze

Eight miles high

He walks his path

And I follow mine

One truth for one eye

He's come to find me

By reading the SAGA from THE VERY BEGINNING!

time capsule from heaven - Sunday, Aug. 21, 2011
31 - Saturday, Mar. 15, 2008
Dead/Alive - Monday, Mar. 10, 2008
Do not trustTIAA-CREF-- they are fucking their customers - Friday, Jul. 28, 2006
Shilling - Tuesday, Jul. 11, 2006

Before After