I would like to give a heartfelt thanks to Mike in #8 with his 1999 Honda Civic with the glass-packed muffler. I know it has taken many years and many incarnations to get just the right grating sound from your piece of shit car. Knowing all of the work you put into it I realize why you insist on revving your engine at 5:45am each morning when you head off to your retail job and again at 1:30am when you pick up your stripper baby’s mommy. Lord knows you can’t start a car without revving it 8-10 times.
I would also like to thank another dickless wonder in #10 that wakes me up with his quiet car and booming bass. I know how difficult it is to turn that little volume knob a half turn before you pull into the development since I do it every day. I really appreciate how you pull into your parking space and keep the radio cranked all the way up for 5-10 minutes while you get your mail and talk to Mike. That way we can all enjoy the sound of heavy bass vibrating our windows.
To the “party house” 2 doors down I would like to say “thanks”. I like waking at 3am to the sound of beer bottles breaking in the parking lot so that I can avoid running over them the next morning and walking my dog carefully around them. I appreciate how you say goodbye to your friends by yelling curses and laughing and how they reciprocate by beeping their car horn in front of my bedroom window- at 3am.
On behalf of your children I would like to thank the mother in #7 for allowing her 4 children (ages 1-12) to play unsupervised in the middle of the street. I think its wonderful that you’ve taught them no fear of cars and not to look before crossing the street. Even more, I appreciate how you’ve taught them to actually sit in the middle of the street and not move when cars are backing up or coming through. I thank you for letting them chalk obscenities on the sidewalk, for allowing them to ruin shrubs and trees and to dent my car numerous times.
To the fat-fighting-fuckheads in #9, I can’t thank you enough. I thank you for the hours of screaming and banging around. I thank you for the police visits at all hours and especially for the time you ruined my car by backing out with your door open during a domestic dispute.
To all of you I thank you. I thank you for motivating me to get a single-family home with at least 0.5 acres and 6ft privacy fences. Anyone know a good realtor in MD?
I live in a townhouse complex. Fortunately I don’t have as many troublesome neighbors as you do, but I do have my share:
The lady who lives next door to me is always “accidentally” (or so it seems) setting off her car alarm. I can always count on hearing a perfectly-intervaled “HONK-HONK-HONK…!” at least twice a week. It takes about 20 iterations for her to get out there and shut the damn thing off. Car alarms are worthless, anyway. I don’t ever recall a time hearing one and thinking, “Oh gee, someone’s car just got broken into. I think I’ll call the cops!” :rolleyes:
The gray-haired granny bitch across the street and up two units from me who confronted me at the mailboxes two weeks ago for following behind her too closely when driving in. The speed limit is 15, but yet she was barely pushing 5. Time to turn in your driver’s license and go live where they feed you and wipe your ass for you, you old hag!
The Avon lady who goes around to dump her pamplets and other shit on everyone’s doorstep. I get enough spam in my email and my postal mail, thank you, not to mention telemarketers! I don’t need to see it on my doorstep, too! Next time you spam the complex I’m going to do everyone a favor and go around, collect the litter you left behind and take it right back to the source (she writes her address on the pamplets). Oh, and that sign at the entrance to the complex that says NO SOLICITING? Yeah, that means YOU!
Ah, the memories this brings back. Back in my townhouse days, I had an assigned parking space that was included in the condo fees. Too bad my neighbour with the tiny little car couldn’t manage to fit it in between the lines, so I could barely squeeze my tiny little car in beside it. The best part of that - he would park in a particularly bad way, then leave the car undisturbed for the next month. Malakahead.
Our complex had walls of tissue paper, too - ever see the movie “Office Space”? That could have been my complex. I could hear the people talking in a normal voice in the other units. I could really hear them fighting and throwing each other into the walls at 7:00 am - they even scared my cats!
But let me warn you - single family dwellings can have crappy neighbours too. Our current neighbours (we’re renting a full house in the 'burbs) piss me off just about every day with their ignorant, thoughtless, jerky ways. If there’s a nice way to do something, and an asshole way, they go with “asshole” every time.
Yikes! My grandparents had drug dealers living next to them for a while. People would come by at all hours of night, making open deals infront of the door, smoking up in the house and letting it waft through the ventilation ducts into other houses (did I mention Grandma has a heart condition?). Next came a family of six in which husband and wife were always physically fighting.
Their next door neighbors now are twin brothers who aren’t all that bad…although their choice of friends is a little bit lacking. I was down there a week ago, and they threw a birthday party. Seemed someone showed up who wasn’t invited, there was too much booze and too little brains. There was a shouting match, and their glass storm door got shattered. Here we go again :rolleyes:
Gee, we lived in a townhome in MD where we had an end unit with woods on one side of us and a nearly deaf couple on the other side of the only shared wall. The walls were thick, too, so even if we or they made noise, nobody could hear it.
The worst problem we had was a neighbor who got a large dog that she couldn’t control that tried to bite everyone that came near it. She finally got rid of it before we got rid of it for her.
Maybe the difference was that this townhome community was nearly all owner-occupied, with only a few renters. It was a really nice place to live, anyway.
We’re now in single-family suburbia in another state, with the 0.5 acre with the six-foot privacy fence, and we have a young couple with small children across the street who deal drugs out of their house around the clock. Last night I went out after midnight to pick up Young Tiger from a movie and a “customer” was pulling out of their driveway. At least their “customers” tend to be quiet; she’s the only one who makes a lot of noise, and wow, does that young woman have a foul mouth on her when she’s out screaming at someone, which she does a couple times a week. Sometimes you just can’t win.
I lived in this townhouse complex about two years ago and this goober (he was in my SP squadron then, got a dishonorable discharge later on) was working on his pistol and did a ‘function check,’ putting a hole in his wall…and my neighbors…and mine…and the next neighbor’s…
I think that a good dealer in WMD might be a better solution in the long run.
I recommend good old-fashioned mustard gas. The BZ/VX just makes them hallucinate like a mofo and run around screaming for hours, which sounds like business as usual, and that there weaponized anthrax is a bitch to clean up. Can’t go far wrong with mustard gas, though.
I live on three acres of land in an area where folks can keep horses.
The street can grow grass right down its middle,
And I’m fifteen minutes from work–tra-la!
And then there are my apple trees, and my plums and all of my grapes. And I got the mortgage at five percent, tra-la, tra-la, tra-la.
