Will the real Messiah please stand up?

Well, everything can't always be peaches and cream, even when you live on an estate. Not just any estate, but one of the finest pieces of land in California. Anyway, as you might know, I am nearing the end of managing a marathon rental. Understandalbly, I felt a bit burnt, overstimulated etc.. Like many others, I can become less tolerant to stress, when I am exhausted. Thus, it may come as no surprise that I butted heads with Millenium Twain today. The issue is a petty one but it has been ongoing. The politics of 5-8 people sharing an 8 fot by 5 foot kitchen can become pressurized like an atomic particle accelerator. After living here for a year, I've watched the community mini-kitchen double as a battleground. Everyone who lives here or has lived here can attest to this.

My issue involves the storage of compost inside the kitchen. I am against this for several reasons: foul odors, attracts countless fruit flys, attract rats. For some reason, (laziness? stubborness? passive aggression?), Millenim has agreed to not store his compost in the kitchen to my face but in reality continues to do so.

Maybe, I am too sensitive or something but it really annoys me to have to clean rat droppings off the kitchen counter and shelves. Maybe it sounds too domineering when I ask people to please not leave food out because it totally attracts the rats. Maybe, I am too sensitized from the past when I shared the mini-kitchen with the giant South African slob, James Ross. James was such a slob and had a history of blaming every one else for his messes. I grew tired of his psychosis and left the kitchen to Jimmy and the rats (sounds like a band from the '50s).

To put it all into perspective, currently, there are no rats in the kitchen. I just want to keep it that way. There ARE rats above the ceiling boards in the bathroom. The bathroom, shower and kitchen are all under the same room and are separated by walls.

So earlier today, I am psychicly exhausted and for the 7th or 8th time, Mr. Twain has left the compost bucket in the kitchen. I have a moan about it and instead of just paying lip service, he actually stands up for what he perceives as his right to store compost in the kitchen. It is important to note that the compost hole is only 15 paces from the kitchen. It just does not make any sense to me how any one could be so lazy... He states that both Walter and Jane don't mind if he stores it in the kitchen.

He says what ever I say "doesn't matter". He says: "Are drugs
involved?"

I'm like: "Huh?"

MT: "Your fixation on flys and compost suggest to me that drugs are involved."

Me: "You're insane"

This goes a bit further and I give him a chance to recant his attempt to marginalize my perspective with baseless slander.

MT: "blog it."

Me: "What?"

MT: with a strained fake smile: "blog it."

This basically ended our exchange. I head to the basement/dungeon/internet zone and find Michael Brown at his cyber station. I mention the disagreement and say "We need to do a background check on Millenium."

Michale Brown: "OK."

20 seconds later - Michael Brown: "Messiah Twain."

Me: "Whaat? you gotta be kidding..."

See for yourself: fireships
yonibluestar

Welcome to the psycho circus. What's next? I do not know... tune in tomorrow.