As I leave for the weekend, I thought I might share this whimsy:
I have a new neighbor.
I do not like him.
He’s very important.
I do not like him.
Not because he’s VIP
No, because now there are funny armed men everywhere on my block.
I don’t like funny armed men with fancy automatic rifles and cocky berets all over my block.
It makes me nervous.
I also don’t like the fact that the funny armed men prevent me from taking my favorite side of the street to work. I like my street. It has trees, nice shady trees that make me feel relaxed. Now I have to walk on the ugly side of the street, which does not relax me at all and spoils the pleasure of walking to work.
My neighbor has also brought with him to the neighborhood a number of big Germanic cars with single digit license plates. This means he and his family can park wherever they want. It’s not a written rule, but see the funny armed men see it that way. Parking spaces include my sidewalk.
I wish my new neighbor would move away. This is a modest neighborhood not fit for VIPs. I considered peeing on his car to emphasize this, but then thought better of it. The new woman I saw and presume is the VIP’s daughter, perhaps I can start annoying her with bad pick up lines so they will flee the neighborhood.
Take a run at the guy. That’ll signal your displeasure. And the guards will either (1) kill you, in which case your problems are over, or (2) do nothing, in which case you can increase your harassment without fear and eventually drive him out of the neighborhood (bonus if they leave one of the big German cars for you.)
I’ll admit the plan has a flaw in that there is option (3) they kick your ass and leave you alive and you achieve nothing, or (4) you get option 3 and you get thrown in the hooscow. Still, I’d be interested in hearing the results of the Charge of the Collounsbury Brigade.
No, no, I think the response is likely to be beat the piss out of me and then throw me in jail. Something like the oft unnoticed option in the “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” line, see I could just end up crippled for life and still with him here.
Abe Babe, they’re not really Funny in a laughing sense at all. And they were blue camo meaning they’re internal security. No laughing sorts, except perhaps when you’re bent over a chair in handcuffs.
I personally think annoying his daughter is the best way to go.
Perhaps if start talking to myself loudly while hanging out in front of my place. Gibberish.
Invite plenty of people with those neat basso profundo car stereos.
Speaking of stereos, get the most powerful one you can afford, and position it on the front porch for all to enjoy.
Try to schedule these parties on both weeknights and weekends, that way your neighbor will never know when to expect to sleep.
Get several large dogs and chain them around your house, so that anytime a new member arrives at the party they are greeted by lots of friendly barking.
And definitely start hitting on his daughter poste haste!
I think you need some lawn art. And wind chimes. BIG CLANGY wind chimes. And maybe a windmill with squeeky bearings. And bird feeders. And maybe a couple of old tires painted white and filled with marigolds.
He needs a concrete chicken. Reckon how many squillion dollars that would cost to ship to the Middle East? We should take up a collection.
Or worse, let’s send Collunsbury one of those hideous geese that come with, like, six different outfits. You stick this thing by your front door and put the “outfit of the season” on it. Seriously.
Find out if you don’t know allready, who your neighbour is and what he does. Ask them to be nice, and not obstruct your life. VIP’s often are very sensitive to bad publicity.
Hit on his daughter, or one of his guards if you prefer. Invite your friends to hit on them as well.
Or you could date the daughter, make friends with the guy, and achieve unimaginable wealth and power through your newfound family connection, including your own big German car and bodyguards, allowing you to piss on people you don’t even know yet.
Of course, then you’d either be stuck with her or get killed, but what the hell - you told us she looks nice, right?
And some spotlights on tall poles that cast moving long shadows off the big wind chimes in the dead of night. So the tired funny men will occasionally catch a moving shadow out of the corner of their eyes, and open up with barrages of gunfire.
