Crackhead Urine is some potent shit

Let me start the story with my 15 year old lesbian home inspector....

After a few back and forths with the seller about the contract, we came up with a contract we'd both sign. First thing I had to do was schedule the home inspection. My realtor said she knows a good home inspector and since I don't, I figured, what the hell.

So I roll up to the house to find what looked like a 15 year old boy in a baseball cap up on the roof of my future house. She introduces her self as my home inspector and I have to admit, as much as we all hate to say that we create first impressions based on looks, I know I totally did. She turned out to be real, real dope though. It was a very thorough inspection and she knew her shit. Now, her assistants, some brotha with Fubu on was a different story.

Since I had signed the contract, even though I hadn't closed yet, the house is going to be mine, so I made the executive decision that Wayne (the homeless guy living in the house) had to go. On my way to the home inspection I stopped by the Home Depot to pick up some 2x4's big long nails, etc... because I was going to make sure Wayne couldn't get in after I left the house.

I was PISSED because Wayne had been pissing in a bucket at the back entrance to the house (MF had it almost halfway full!!). Not only was I surprised that he had damn near filled up a painter's bucket in a few days, but his piss damn near looked like Fanta Orange. It had this glow to it that I had never seen in piss before. So I started to feel sorry for Wayne, thinking to myself Wayne is obviously not very healthy, so I took Wayne's stuff and placed it neatly in a stack outside behind the garage where passerby's couldn't see it and mess with it.

Wayne had an old radio, some little toys (the free ones from McDonalds), old couch cushions were his makeshift bed, and a jacket. As I'm putting his stuff out the back, the neighbor next door comes outside to chat. Real cool guy, comes by and cuts the grass for his sister, said he would cut mine too which was really nice. So when he asks me if there is anything else I can do, I say, "Yeah, make sure Wayne doesn't try to break in the house tonight!" to which he replys:

"awww, man, those crackheads just need a place to smoke their shit and sleep for the night. They ain't gonna harm nothin'."

..............

At that moment, it dawned on me... despite all of the nice original millwork, period details on the stairs, wood floors that were in good shape, and the potential to be a really nice home, at that moment, all I could think was... I just bought a crackhouse......... son-uv-a-bitch.

So I go back inside, up the stairs where I'm met with an AWFUL, AWFUL stench, I couldn't figure out where it was coming from! I'm walking around in the bathroom and can't figure it out... then I lift up the toilet........

THAT NIGGA WAYNE HAD BEEN SHITTING IN MY TOILET!!!!! and since the water isn't on yet.................. he had filled the mfer to the brim.

NOW, I was mad. and all that niceness and pity that I had for Wayne had gone completely out of the window. We go downstairs to the basement and the GOTDAMN WASHING MACHINE WAS GONE!!! I thought the only reason this fool was in there was to GUARD THE MFing APPLIANCES!!! Well he didn't do a good job at that shit!!!

So just as I'm at the peak of being heated.............. Wayne rolls up to the house....

"hey man!"
"NAH MOTHER FU*KER, TIME IS UP WAYNE!! YOU GOTTA GO!"
"well can I get my stuff?"
"IT'S OUT BACK!"
"okay, okay, you ain't gotta be rude?!"
"WELL YOU AIN'T GOTTA PISS AND SHIT ALL OVER THE HOUSE EITHER!!"

... sensing my anger, my realtor pulls me aside and said she'd deal with Wayne. He had a few things stashed under the sink and the realtor got those for him, but I didn't want to see him no more.

......... which brings me to the title of the story...

As I'm continuing to clear the mess out of the house, I grab and dump the painter's bucket full of piss as well as a 2-liter soda bottle that was about 3/4 full of piss, take them down the street and dump them in the sewer.

Two days later, I shit you not, the skin on my fingers starts drying up, then bubbling up and now it's peeling all off my hands. So I holla at my boy's wife who is a dermatologist, describe my symptoms and as soon as I told her I picked up a bucket of his urine and dumped it she's like, "yeah, definitely scabies. It lives in urine." to which my friend ads on, "yeah, every homeless person in DC has it."

THAT SON- UV - A - BITCH!!

Man, it's good to have a close friend who is a doctor. I got the prescription filled 10 minutes later and had to cover my entire body in this lotion and let it sit overnight. I was freaking out since I masterbated last night, but my man seems to be doing okay. Good thing it doesn't take me more than 5 minutes to handle my business. (hey, don't trip, I KNOW myself....)

I'm feeling better today and the symptoms seem to have disappeared and it's been a little over 8 hours since I took the lotion off....

So yeah, the lesson for the day today kiddes: stay far, far away from crackhead piss or risk having your skin look like a shedding snake.

~C