neighbors from hell!!!

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

Neighbor’s number 2:

Nice neighbors moved out the winter of 97. We never heard them leave.They were so nice and they had chickens and turkeys and I could get fresh eggs. Sigh.

In April of 98 our son was born (cue ticker tape parade) and until it became warm enough to open the windows during the day, all was well in my little world.

Untillll

The House of the Barking Dog people moved in.
They had a dog named Pepper. Even though I’ve only seen Pepper through the shrubs when I walked over one day to check out his situation, I could hear his name being yelled by a variety of family members whenever someone was home.

Pepper was a lab/rott mix puppy and mean as mean can be. One of our neighbors is/are a professional dog trainers and vets,and they watched Pepper on several occaisions only to conclude what we all knew, Pepper went bad because of neglect and constant teasing from the kids. Can’t blame the dog, I know, but shooting the kids and parents is a bigger crime.

Pepper also had an energizer battery shoved up his ass. He NEVER STOPPED BARKING. ALL DAY EVERYDAY. I could hear his barks through my closed windows with a pillow over my head as I try desperately to “nap while the baby naps.” I live about 100 yards away from their house. During my first 12 weeks of mommyhood I expected loss of sleep. My son slept in four hour intervals, which is really good for a breastfed baby. I slept in hour allotments, if I was lucky. Sleeping in the basement didn’t help either. I have been referred to as radar ears on many occaisons.

Two other neighbors had babies that spring and summer and they never noticed the barking until their babies showed up and they said the same thing.There were three sleep deprived mommies on the street because of Pepper.

Then the kids got out of school for the summer and all we heard was screaming, shreiking and fighting all day. THEN they got a dirt bike and all we heard from 8am - sundown was that annoying EEEEEEEEEEEE of FIRST gear ( no one showed them how to change the gears).You would think the engine would just die after 8 hours a day, seven days a week in first gear, BUT NOOOOOOO. WE COULDN’T BE SO LUCKY. If our 22 rifle had ammo, or should I say, if we had ammo in the house for our rifle, I would have shot the bike and then the dog.I would have had absolutely no remorse whatsoever.

Even with the A/C on, I could hear it. ALL the neighbors complained.

We were afraid of confrontation because with a house of teenage boys you just never know if they are going to do retribution in the form of vandalism. Since they were so ill supervised, everyone ( 5 neighbors in all) agreed and so we decided to call the cops on them. We wanted to do things nice and legal. That is the grown up thing to do, ain’t it?

We called 12 times in one summer.I’ve never called the cops in my life. That’s just our house. The people who live closest to them called over 25 times. And the rest of our neighbors called somewhere inbetween. Didn’t help.

We found out that if the same house complains about a noise disturbance/disturbing of the peace more than twice in a specific time then charges needed to be pressed to take further action and the noisemakers would get a $500 ( i think) penalty. Well, no one wanted to be the bad neighbor to confront the situation in court ( I did, but hubby didn’t), so we called in a round robin situation. Turns out the cops were never really talking to an adult. No adult was ever home. It was always a teenager. So, fatlottagood that was doing. Nothing changed and the noise NEVER stopped.(We went on a weekend trip somewhere and I slept 10 hours in the hotel room, and woke up only because my breasts were about to explode from lack of nursing. Hubby had resorted to formula for our son because he couldn’t wake me.)

In the fall, before it became cold, another neighbor (whom we’ve never met or spoke too) who works nights and sleeps days had had it.He hadn’t slept since Memorial weekend and it was nearly October. He took out his rifle went over to the house, ordered the kid off the bike and was going to disable the bike for good and then shoot the dog. The cops were called by the kids and the mom and the mom learned for the first time that her kids were A number one assholes. They got rid of the bike and Pepper was brought into the house for the first time at nights.

( Pepper ended up getting hit by a car a few weeks later and none of the neighbors will confess to nailing a black dog on a moonless/no streetlight country road.) but when the word spread everyone admitted they did a happy dance.

I’ve always suspected my husband because the night of the hit he came into the house and stated very unlike him that , " I need to make cinamon rolls" ( He’s never made cinamon rolls before or since.) So whenever he is looking for an alibi, that phrase comes up.

Summer of 1999, I braced myself for another round with the House of the Dead Pepper ( as all of us refer to these people as) but it’s like aliens kidnapped them. ( We later learned that the womans husband suffered three massive strokes that summer and is in a home ( and will be for life) and she works two jobs to support their 3-5 kids. ( We have never gotten an accurate sighting.)

They have just gotten another dog, just in time for my next baby. If it is the reincarnation of Pepper, the Summer 2000 will be VERY different from 1998.

Other than that, the rest of my neighbors are wonderful.

22

A couple of years ago, Leigh-Anne and I lived in a neighborhood very close to downtown Cleveland (W. 45th Street). We had pretty decent upstairs neighbors to start, but they moved out, and we got a boyfriend-girlfriend pair.

It started almost right away. First, there were the constant fights. Screaming voices, just about any time the two of them were both home.

Then, there was the stereo. Every night, loud music when I was trying to sleep. Friday nights, I’d get home from work and be able to hear it from the corner of the street. One evening, I told him to come downstairs and listen. He did, said he didn’t think it was too loud, and told me if I tried to call the police on him, he’d kill me. Oooookay. First call to the landlord, telling him I want this guy gone. Nothing is done.

Shortly thereafter, we found ourselves without a car. Behind our house was a two-car garage (really two one-car garages), one side for us and one for him. During the time we were without a car, we left our garage locked, with some boxes and stuff in it.

One day, we bought a car. We come home, I go to unlock the garage, find it is already unlocked, swing the door up, and discover my garage is full of my neighbor’s roofing supplies. He has picked my lock and used it for storage. I go find his girlfriend, tell her I want this stuff out, now. She says, “He told me he had an agreement with you to pay you for using it.” I said, “Well, he’s a fucking liar, and I want it gone.”

I park our car in front of our garage door, since I can’t get in the garage. About 4:00 a.m. we hear a noise like someone is knocking down our door with a battering ram. I go to the door and look out, it’s the neighbor, and is he ever drunk. I unlock the door, he pulls our screen off the hinges, grabs my shirt, and tells me to get outside and move my car, and to stop fucking with him. I toss on a jacket, grab an 8-inch butcher knife, tuck it in my sleeve and stroll outside. Turns out my front bumper is “blocking” his garage door by approximately 1.5". Inches, not feet. He claims he can’t get his truck in the garage, starts pushing me in the chest. I push him away, tell him that if my garage wasn’t full of his crap, it wouldn’t be parked there. Like a typical drunk, he gets all apologetic, starts offering me money. I tell him, “I don’t want your money, just get your shit out, now.” I get in my car, start it, put in the clutch, put it in gear for one second, then shut it off. Didn’t move an inch.

Then I go inside, call the landlord, tell him a) get over here now and make sure this fuckhead gets is stuff out of my garage, and b) if he isn’t out by next week, I’m pressing charges. Landlord comes over, supervises the moving of the stuff. The next day, he files a complaint in Cleveland’s housing court. Neighbor decides he’s going to squat, isn’t going to move. For the next week, he takes to coming home and parking his truck in front of both garage doors, so I can neither get in nor out. He also begins having all-night (literally, like 8pm-4am) drunken parties, because his girlfriend has now left him.

I call the landlord, tell him I’m cancelling the last five months of my lease, he can eat the rent, and if he has a problem, I’ll see him in court. We are moved within two weeks. I come to find out the neighbor was the landlord’s step-nephew, and is an ex-con.

Joy.

“It’s my considered opinion you’re all a bunch of sissies!”–Paul’s Grandfather

23

i’m starting to wonder…

are there this many different crazy people in the world,
or,
maybe it’s the same family…they just get evicted and move in next door to someone else

do you know the theory that there is only one fruit cake that families give as gifts to different people every year?

well, there is only one family that gets run out of town often and moves in next to us!
from now on instead of neighbor from hell, we should call them “FRUITCAKES”

24

my parents used to have a neighbor like that. Anytime my parents tried to sit outside(its a condo),she would come out,sit on her proch,about 20 ft. from my parents’,and mock them the whole time. Even spitting at them. Eventually,someone(maybe delivery person) found out a certain problem,and people came over and took roughly 80 cats and kittens out of her house,some were found inside a stereo unit! Then they took her and put her in a safe place.

25

“he said that i was making the voices in his head tell him to kill his family”

<font color="#8b008b">It sounds like he just needs to put a bit more foil on his windows.
Of course, that only works for brain rays.
He’ll have to put-duct tape on his electrical outlets to keep them from pumping nerve gas through his wires.

I think I’ll paint my dog safety-orange … just in case.</font>

26

Oh, Shirley, that is hysterical! Can I borrow H.otB.D.P. for my sig line sometime?

Insert Random Witticism Here.

27

My take on this: decent people HAVE NO RIGHTS! I mean it-my tale of woe:
I rented a basement apartment after my divorce-could not afford anything better. My upstairs neighbor was a drunk -I lived in constant fear of him setting the place on fire. And, one time he left the water on in his bathtub(he was passed out on the sofa)-my living room was flooded! I went to the local court to file a formal complaint-the clerk of the court just dropped his pen and laughed (when I told him)-it seems the drung was a personal friend of the judge! I gave up and moved away!

28

I thought I had it bad… my old neighbor just never bathed, wore 50,000 pens in his pocket protector, and sat up on his roof picking his nose and eating it. Yuck!!

I really try to be good but it just isn’t in my nature!

29

He ate his nose? That has gotta sting!

30

I’ll keep this short because I really don’t want to think about it.

Under what circumstances would you hear a pig screaming and a chainsaw at the same time?

That’s my neighbor.
– Sylence

I don’t have an evil side. Just a really, really apathetic one.

31

We used to live in a building that had a penthouse studio apartment where a single guy had lived for a long time. He was nice and quiet and we had no problems with him. BUT, the day after he moved out, all the other apartments in the building were invaded by cockroaches and mice–I’d never seen one before that. The only thing we could figure out was that his place must have been so incredibly filthy that it kept the whole hoard of vermin happy by itself. They were forced to move in on us when he moved and took their buffet with him.

32

my upstairs neighbors(the one with the voices)
blamed me for the roaches in his apartment.

i had never even seen a roach in my life until about 3 months after he moved in.

anyway, when the police came to take him to the hospital, they asked me to come up to his apartment and help gather up the kids(they were hiding and wouldn’t go with the cops)

the apartment looked like something out of a nightmare. i can’t begin to describe the filth…now keep in mind i’m a pretty cluttered person,
but this wasn’t clutter, it was filthy diapers and rotting food and mold and i don’t know what!

someone(presumably the kids) had taken the diapers and “fingerpainted” the walls with excriment.
it only gets worse.
but he actually wanted to start a fist fight with my husband insisting we caused the roach problem.

I’m pink therefore I’m Spam

33

Both true. Sad, but true…

  1. Tough as nails next door neighbor starts acting strange. Hey, he’s Rush fan and even weird beyond that, but then really strange behavior crops up. Cutting to the chase, he had Alzheimers.
    He was a a grizzled, tough as boots and just as reliable veteran and when the Alzheimers fogged his perception, he thought he was back in the Pacific theater of WWII. He had stashed guns everywhere (thank you, Rush and Charleton Heston) so he’d remember to grab a gun and storm into the street, thinking he was back in the war.
    No one can diss cops around me. They responded to this armed and incapable man, and somehow talked him down each time until he was hospitalized.
    Great fun, in the meantime. “Oh, shit, Rich is in the middle of street fighting the Japanese again.”

2.) I live in an old house, in a formerly “transitional” neighbor that has become alarmingly yuppie. Before, the house 2 doors down was a crack house. The “mother” rented it, and she would actually show up every 4th day or so.
Meanwhile, the house was occupied by a floating population of gangbangers and stony eyed teenage “mules” for the drug trade who were notable for excess testosterone and ambition to “count coup” with a croggling arsenal of weapons.
(BTW, folks, never get me on the subject of gun control.)
It was a solid year of fear/pissed off defiance but we finally got the infestation shut down. And I slept more than 5 hours per night.

Of course now the neighborhood is becoming terrifyingly gentrified and I’m almost nostalgic for the wackos and gangbangers.

Never satisfied,
Veb