- I haven’t had to sit through 45 minutes (or more) of his incessant whining about how shitty his “lifestyle” is – the endless pawing through boxes of scrap, the fact that his rickety shit-bucket of a jeep is still technically illegal for him to drive (because it is neither inspected nor registered), the fact that he doesn’t “trust” it to run well enough for him to go over to the repeater site (where he used to loiter incessantly), to say nothing of the various storage-units also crammed floor-to-ceiling with un-sorted scrap, etc.
- I haven’t had to listen to him yammer incessantly about david Icke, Fritz springmeir, or any of his other inane “paranormal” obsessions – including the “fact” that he has seen an inordinate number of burnt-out license plate lights.
- I haven’t had to listen to him whine about the shitiness of his job, how “under-appreciated” he is, how he could supposedly “be doing so much more”, etc. — when he can’t even manage to sort the garbage cluttering his trailer enough to be able to use the kitchen.
All in all, not having to hear him whine, throw tantrums, and then hang up on me has been a wonderful thing.