2003-06-28
Neighbors Suck
My neighbors suck.
When I lived in the city, my neighbors sucked in that pee-on-your-front-lawn-at-two-in-the-morning kind of way. I can deal with that. But these neighbors suck in the way that only a suburban neighbor can.
To my left is a family of five. The dad grew up in an abusive home, which I know because the mom shared that little tidbit of information with me one day. I think she did this to excuse the fact that her husband does nothing but scream at her, scream at his children and swear at the top of his lungs on a daily basis. His favorite word is the F word. Now, I'm not against using such word, but I really don't see the need to use it so loudly at 8:30 am on a Saturday morning just because some squirrels ate the tomatoes from your garden. I especially do not see the need to do this in front of your three children who are playing in the yard. This guy is obsessed with his lawn. The "theme" in the front is Nautical Beach. He built and painted this horrid lighthouse which serves as the focal point. Under the pieces of wrought-iron gate which he bolted to the front of his house (why, I will never understand) is a tri-level rock and seashell garden. Wooden cutout people complete the look. Oh, yeah, it's JUST like living in Maine, dude. Our houses are really close together and sometimes when I back in or out of our driveway, I end up on HIS precious property. I made a nice little rut in the ground, so to correct our wrongdoing, he stuck a giant fricking boulder at the edge of my driveway. I cannot tell you how many times I have run this thing over and pushed it into the street with my car. I just leave it there. If he wants a boulder on his property, he can do the maintenance.
On my right is the most crotchety couple that ever walked the face of the earth. Their favorite thing to do is call the Inspector on my ass. Didn't bundle your twigs for trash collection properly? Phone call. Dogs barking too early in the morning? Phone call. When I painted the house, the husband actually had the nerve to come over and tell me we missed a spot. Just to SHOW HIM, I left it unpainted. Suck on that, assface. And to make things worse, his house is the color of puke and he has it repainted THE SAME FRICKING COLOR every two years or so. I'd be a miserable bastard, too, if I had to come home every day to a Puke House. And their favorite thing to do is called Lay Outside in The Sun. She just lays there motionless for HOURS while he sucks back a six-pack of some crappy, foul beer. I thought orange skin was OVER. She looks like a suitcase, and I'm not trying to be mean. Seriously, I'm not. It's just not attractive at all. Not to mention that she insists on walking around in a BIKINI all the time. He loves to be in a tank top. Skin is hanging and swinging and I really don't want to see that.
Which is why I put up the Spite Fence. I fenced in the yard with this Big Ass Six Foot High Solid Wood Mother. It's the best thing I ever did. Ever. I love not having to interact with the humans that flank my home environment. Good fences really do make good neighbors.
Other highlights of the neighborhood include The Guy With The Lawn Jockey, The Bitchy Woman Whose Husband Rides The Loudest Motorcycle In The World, The Unruly Brat Children, The Slutty Mom and Her Slutty Daughter, and The Cat Who Shits On Everyone's Property. I don't talk to any of them.
And I keep getting invited to the Annual Block Party. Go figure.
joeparadox at 2:25 p.m.