Now listen to me here, I am a lady of patrician standards and morals. I am thirty-nine years of age, and I am a dog and cat owner, Princess Eliza-Wainwright (cat) and Queen Noor, III (dog) are like my children.

Michael is the property administrator, and he resembles a man lacking testosterone. The only thing that runs through Michael's arteries is a locally made moonshine, as it is rumored that he is of the alcoholic nature. I find it within my royalty to feel sorrow for this man, as I do honestly think that all --- men are alcoholics.

Michael can be seen scuttling from phase to phase on certain days observing the backsides of the new residents - as though Michael is a prison warden in some remote town in the English countryside.

One recent day I was strolling through the halls of this urban has-been property, and spotted three blind mice running for their lives. I was startled; however, my faithful ----- Princess Eliza-Wainwright came to my fescue rescue and captured and devoured these rodentry creatures, typically only seen in the English countryside.

Me, being a lady that was born with blue blood could only be paralyzed as I watched this act of wonton cruelty and insanity be displayed.

Let it be known for the purpose of keeping records, that I enjoy having homes in Malibu, Paris, Madrid, Key Largo, Porto Fino, and Fiji... and also Atlanta. The Mattress Factory gives me an inner sense of being and puts me in touch with the Ameritrash that one can only read about in squalid trash magazines or experience on some disgusting reality programme.

The Matress Factory has earth coloured men in large tanks with rotatory wheels. These men of the night are artists in training, the Tupac Shakurs of tomorrow (if you will). Oh, how I enjoy spending a few brief moments speaking with these men in the gangrene-like gathering areas of The Matress Factory. These ebony men are always speaking in a dialect only heard on plantation cotton fields in the late 1800s. The Matress Factory reminds me sometimes of a bygone era. A lovely era in which there was no unrest and crime. An era I shall miss for an eternity.

I have spoken to Michael about the bygone era previously, and he tends to agree with me. Bless Michael's soul, for he is a nice man. Sometimes I forget that he enjoys trips to Hershey, PA.

Betty is a woman of desire and passion. Betty is a on-call attendant, whom one can see guarding this property as though it were her piece of bread on a cold Moscow morning. Betty is striking and a smart dresser. I doubt that any criminal would dare penetrate Betty's hymen-like guard of The Mattress Factory. Betty routinely switches on her hazard lights in the Mazda MPV and drives around the The Matress Factory campus searching for any type of illegal activities going on. Betty is such a smart woman, she even finds time to swoop into the waste bins to find a treasure or two.

Me, of course, I'd settle for a trip to Neiman Marcus or Harvey Nichols.

My plastic surgery victim neighbor, Shawntricia Lumpkin, disposed of a few dresses recently as well as some sex-stained satin sheets. Pity, I do think the sheets were from the new Versace collection. Well dears, the sheets later surfaced as curtains in Betty's Mazda MPV and the dresses were being worn by some of the employees of the nearby salad dressing refinery.

Another fine example of recycling within a community.

Recently, many people left The Mattress Factory due to the price increase.

I find this alarming.

Why would one not want to pay a premium price for a property that's like excrement on feet' The kind of culture waiting for anyone here is unspeakable.

Why not pay a premium price for a property with such close proximity to a liqour shoppe, a greasy service station, numerous public housing projects, and one of Atlanta's premier public transportation facilities... The MLK MARTA station.

On top of this, there are several Fortune 500 companies nearby: Fran & Mike's Salad Dressing Refinery, Bubba Smith's Gin & Tonic Store, Amoco, Atlanta Public Housing Authority Police, and Pizza Hut. One can stroll to work on a lovely vinegar smelling day. I always crave greek salads while living here. My housekeeper Lady Ludres (yes, she is legal - alien number 9943-4-982) always makes delicious salads for me.

Parking is an easy affair, my three sedans and coupe have no problem parking here. Although some other plebian-like modes of transportation (like a Volkswagen or Dodge) are typically destroyed, keyed, banged, and/or vandalized on a regular basis. My new Mercedes SLR McLaren is quite at home here at The Matress Factory. Betty is always making sure that my collection of premier vehicles is always safe (2005 Mercedes SLR McLaren, 2005 Audi A8L W12, 2006 Lexus GS430 AWD, and my favorite everyday car... my new 2005 Bentley Arnage. Betty also keeps tabs on my housekeeper's luxury sedan, a 1997 Chrysler Concorde LX V6.

Living here is a good lesson in human sexuality, as I can routinely hear my upstairs homosexual female neighbors go ditch diving.

I can also hear my next door heterosexual neighbors (that's man and woman) fight over their checkbook and then 'go at it' for hours.

Underneath me lives three homosexual males, who (like clockwork) will begin a four hour moaning session starting at 9:00 PM ET every week on Wednesday. It might be old age, but I think I hear gerbils one night. Are they tasty'

How I do enjoy living here, it gives the streets of Milan a real run for it's money.

My favorite event here is the annual filter changes, when I typically become 'flushed' with desire and blood.

I love The Mattress Factory. It will always hold a special chamber in my heart... and in the heart of Princess Eliza-Wainwright as well as in that of Queen Noor, III.

Cheers darling.

User Responses
From: StoneMistMgr	Date: 10/11/2005
Please tell me this is a joke!
From: Leestall	Date: 01/02/2006
Well let me say all --- men are not alco's. I have a partner of many years,you know, the faithful married type all of you middle america, narrow minded, bible beating suburbanites are afraid of. We are as "straight" as they come. If this poster had any "blue blood" she/he would not be living in a cheap loft in downtown Atlanta. Get a grip princess wanna be.
From: heavenly866	Date: 01/23/2006
You are allowed to have a dog in the lofts??? My roommate and I went to put a deposit down today because we fell in love with the lofts but then we were told we couldn't bring our 8lbs dog. SUCKS!! Let me know if there is some way around this. THANKS!
From: gamiller	Date: 06/06/2006
somebody should be a fiction novelist...
From: citywoman	Date: 12/20/2006
Hummm. hated it and all its inner city hating racism

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