I remember the good times.

Living in an apartment, no worries except making sure the rent and bills get paid, the place stays clean, and the fridge stays full. That's why JJ always smiled so much. Look at him...that happy go-lucky bastard....just chillin'...doin' his artwork...mackin' the ladies. You know why you haven't seen him in the public spotlight as much lately? He bought a house...and he's not as funny anymore. No more kool-aid smiles...in fact, he's kind of a jerk now. Anyway, you can see where this post is headed. Let me b*tch for a minute about the misconceptions people have when you’re a homeowner, then I promise I won't rant for a while. It'll be tough...but I promise.

THE MISCONCEPTIONS PEOPLE HAVE WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG AND OWN A TWO-FAMILY HOUSE.

You built the house.

(I’m 33…the house is 105. I think it’s safe to say that the reason the closets are so small or the living room isn’t a little bigger or the tree in the back is overgrown isn’t a result of my past architectural and landscaping decisions.)

You sell drugs.

(Let me ask you this...does my house look like a drug czar's palace? Do you see flamingo's running around my yard next to the coy pond? Have you ever seen me fish a dead body out of my "C-shaped" pool after a violent cocaine episode? Have you ever watched Miami Vice and seen a drug lord who has a neighbor like you? I don't sell drugs...I strip, thank you very much.)

You have the ability to do anything at a moments notice.

(Ok, so you’re saying I should delead each unit, switch the heating system to forced air, and demolish the garage to make way for a new multi-level backyard party patio. Do I have a sugar-mamma you haven’t told me about?)

You want a “tip” on how to maintain your property or for someone to point out something that needs to be done.

(I appreciate you walking by and pointing out that I should relocate my ferns to a shadier side of the house….but I’m kinda busy with other things right now. And who said I even want the ferns? Where the hell did they come from anyway? I didn’t plant them.)

You are one of those slums lords, as seen on the local news undercover expose, who doesn’t take care of his property, keeps a single mother with three children without heat and running water, and is the blame for every apartment in Boston that costs $1500.00 a month.

(No…I can’t say that’s me. I’d consider myself a responsible landlord. If you ask my tenants they’d say the same. But now that you mention it…if I was YOUR landlord...)

You’re stupid.

(People LOVE to lie. Look, in this age of information when you lie on a rental application it’s really not too hard to find out. And saying, “Well, I didn’t know how you’d react to me running a business at my last residence” doesn’t really make it a little white lie either….especially when you were running a drug lab.)

Every problem you come across causes you to put the house on the market.

(Damn, can’t I have a few friends over without you asking if they’re realtors! Turn around and stop looking over the fence. I’m not selling!)

Because you’ve drank a couple of beers with someone in the past you’ll rent them an apartment for a couple hundred dollars or whatever they can afford to pay that month.

(Yeah, ok…you’ve heard of a mortgage right? That’s my rent. And they don’t wanna hear well my tenant/drinking buddy didn’t get along with his boss too well as an excuse. They make people ex-property owners for that.)

You’re filthy rich.

(I don’t know what to say about this besides….gold-digging women have walked away from me all pissed, talking about how I misrepresented myself. Musta been all those hundreds I use to fan myself with…or the spray bottle I fill up with Moet to mist myself off when it gets humid. Nothin’ like a Moet Mist to open the pores.)