Once again, the Board of Blunders™ would like you to believe that I’m the bad apple. The rotten core. The worm in their carefully polished fruit basket.
Well, let me break it to you: I am not the bad apple. You are.
🧺 The Fruit Basket of Doom
Look around – this condo is less a basket of fresh apples and more a bin behind the supermarket at closing time.
- Mildred has been sitting there so long she’s practically cider.
- Blazer is bruised, dented, and somehow still insisting he’s “prime produce.”
- Gwendolyn keeps pretending to be shiny on the outside while rotting from the inside.
🪱 The Worms Are Out
The real “bad apples” aren’t the ones who speak up. They’re the ones quietly worming their way through your property value, your reserve fund, and your peace of mind.
🍏 My Role in the Orchard
I’m not the one spoiling the basket – I’m the one pointing out it’s already spoiled. That smell? Not me. That soft mush at the bottom? Not me. That 300,000 in legal? Definitely not me.
So the next time someone whispers, “She’s the bad apple…” remind them: the only reason they notice the rot is because I pulled the lid off the basket.
Disclaimer: This post is satire and opinion. Read full disclaimer.
