I call this one dude at work Breakfast Club because he very obviously dresses like John Bender every day.
Driving home we come to an intersection, and on one side is a bank and a car wash, and wedged in between them is a small, incredibly dilapidated house. (the kind with window blinds hanging askew). Sitting there on the pressurized-wood porch that was tacked on are a couple we call Salt and Pepper, a middle-aged black gent, and a fat middle-aged white lady. In good weather, they’re always there, inhaling the traffic fumes and gazing at the view (the gas station across the street). I’ve seen them there for the last 2-3 years and wish I knew what the deal with them is.
The Rednecks - Live behind me and every single thing this guy buys has to be the LOUDEST, MOST ANNOYING thing known to man. The loudest chainsaw, blower, mower, EVERYTHING. His kid also has a 4-wheeler that he drives back and forth on the edge of their land about 50 ft each way for hours at a time.
**The Taliban - **Across the street from me. They leave their house unoccupied for months at a time, then show up all of a sudden for a couple of days. I think they’re training in one of those camps in Afghanistan.
The Whore - Lives a couple houses down from **The Taliban. **She moved in and had some guy staying with her. Then some other guy moves in and first guy leaves. Now every time 2nd guy goes out of town, 1st guy comes back.
I have a redneck too, living next door! Exact same deal. He has, in addition, a loud riding mower. There’s a hot tub on his deck and we are treated to the increasingly LOUD conversations with his guests, and the crash of beer bottles being flung into a trash can, long into the night. And his son has a snowmobile that he revs up, rides around and around and around the house, and then takes off down the common area behind the houses all down the block. Like a Mountie persuing a miscreant in the great white north.
"The stressed old lady behind me at the supermarket, that is freaking the f out because i do not put the divider down- between her groceries and mine" -that person
The Whore - Lives a couple houses down from **The Taliban. **She moved in and had some guy staying with her. Then some other guy moves in and first guy leaves. Now every time 2nd guy goes out of town, 1st guy comes back.
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she is only a whore if she gets paid. There is nothing wrong with casual sex mind you.
she is only a whore if she gets paid. There is nothing wrong with casual sex mind you.
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To me, if it’s no big deal, why is she hiding it (only when the other guy is out of town)?
I have a 5 year old who I get for the day on Sunday. Never fails, when he’s laying down for his nap, the boy is riding that damn thing.
Also forgot to say, they added a pool to their backyard, too. Loud parties with drunks all summer long. Also should state the distance between the back of their house to their fence is only about 30-40 feet if that…
Forgot another one:
**Freaky Pedophile - **Lives in the culdesac right down the street. Pulls out of his culdesac and goes up into mine (no way out that way), drives around really slow watching everybody, then goes out of the neighborhood, like he’s cruising for kids or something. This happens at least a couple times a day - drives my dogs nuts, so it does me too.
I had an algebra teacher in high school that did this, too (no speech impediment tho). She would drool on the overhead in class - GAG!
The Swamies are my parents next door neighbors. The husband looks remarkably like the swami from All of Me.
But I don’t **WANNA **be a pirate! 
Another one we’ve gotten to know by walking the neighborhood:
Snooty Nose-in-the-Air: This gal has nothing but a sour expression when she walks her dog and refuses to say hello or acknowledge anyone else. Not that it’s required, but this sure doesn’t come off as shyness.
Cute little fella: A preschool-aged, adorable boy who is always having fun on his little scooter or a ball.
[quote=“Orionizer, post:183, topic:459105”]
The Rednecks - Live behind me and every single thing this guy buys has to be the LOUDEST, MOST ANNOYING thing known to man. The loudest chainsaw, blower, mower, EVERYTHING. His kid also has a 4-wheeler that he drives back and forth on the edge of their land about 50 ft each way for hours at a time.
**The Taliban - **Across the street from me. They leave their house unoccupied for months at a time, then show up all of a sudden for a couple of days. I think they’re training in one of those camps in Afghanistan.
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My friend’s mom (RIP) used to think that the people across the street were “the Terrorists” because, she said, “they come home, go right into the house, and don’t talk to anybody.”
(Actually, that sounds like most people I know, including me at least some of the time!)
The Angry Balding Man - Used to live across the street and would always scream things at his kids, constantly pissed off. Eventually we called them collectively The Angry Balding Family.
The Mad Greek - An old man a few houses down. I have no idea if he was Greek, but he had a gigantic grey head of hair and would blare opera at uncanny hours of the night. He walked a lot with huge army boots on.
The Snap-On Compound - So named because the family owns a Snap-On franchise and truck. Everything they do somehow connects with Snap-On. This has not been a commercial endorsement.
The Man With No Shoes - Actually had shoes, but they were made of mummy scraps or something. He would shuffle up and down a major street near here.
Sir Snacks-a-Lot - Is a local kid who was keen on his King Arthur sword and helmet. Plus he was pudgy.
Now I’m wondering what my neighbors call us? :eek:
So glad this got zombiefied - it’s a good read.
When I lived with my sister in an apartment, we had Intrepid Man. So called because he had a red Dodge Intrepid that he was very proud of. And always parked in front of our apartment.
Now there’s this team of four guys that sit in front of us at Vikings games. (We have season tickets.) They’re all 30ish, former frat boys that tend to take the game too seriously. I’ve dubbed the ringleader Mr. Football. He seems to think he knows a lot about the game (he’s usually wrong) and believes that the actions of the player whose jersey he’s wearing that game reflect well on his own self (they don’t).
He’s accompanied to most games by his buddy, which I haven’t yet named. However, I think I’ll start calling him The Slut - he and Mr. Football brought dates to a game a while back, and The Slut spent most of his time makking on his girl. In the second half, they “snuck” off somewhere to have sex, though it was painfully obvious to the whole section what had gone on when they returned.
One time they brought Heineken Boy. Nice guy, but drunk. Oof. I mean, you expect a level of intoxication at any sporting event, but wow. But he was nicer and more respectful than Mr. Football and The Slut, so I’ll take the drunkenness.
I wonder if they’ll sit in front of us again this year.
Exercising Asian Lady: Exactly what it sounds like…an elderly Asian lady who hangs out, literally, on the steps by a local video store and hangs on the railings, exercising–or walking up and down the sidewalk in front of the store, clapping her hands once, swinging them back behind her, then up again in front of her to clap them again.
Chimney Bitch - this lady moved into the condo directly under mine (lived there for about 6 months) and smoked constantly, it would seep in though my fireplace (yes, some crappy building design or another I’m sure, the fireplaces also let in a lot of cold air in the winter and I winterized it which took care of the smoke too), and I was never able to go out onto my deck without her also popping out for a ciggy within 15 seconds of me going out onto the deck, not for the entire time she lived there. She’d also light up in the shared garage (HOA forbidden) until they finally put a stop to it. Oh I was so glad when she moved out!
Help! I’m talking and I can’t shut up A gentleman I occasionally have the misfortune of sharing a light rail ride with. He dresses VERY nicely, always some stylish suit and drives a yellow jeep (or maybe landcruiser?). The very nano-second he sits down he pulls out his phone and starts making calls. Not “Hi, I’ll be in the office in a few minutes could you pull the Jones’ file” calls either, random, rambling, boooring, LOUD calls. All. of. the. Way. Into. Town. (40 minutes). He never shuts up.
Howard Hughes (in his germaphobe days) Is actually a young woman, but you can’t even cough around her (not even into your hand or a napkin), she looks around all panicked-eyed, and will move. I’m sorry darling, but I’m not hacking up onto my nice clean work clothes, you’ll have to deal with the fact that I’ll cough into a tissue instead. You should see her when an obvious street person sits near her! 
I don’t go to Wendy’s often, since it’s inconveniently-located (I like their baked potatoes and I’d go more often if it wasn’t so far out of my way!). Once every couple months since I moved here. Anyway, invariably the same guy is working there every time I go, which is weird enough in itself. I privately nicknamed him Steve, because he has Steve Buscemi eyes.
There’s also The Doorbell Kid in my neighborhood. Apparently he really likes to pet my roommate’s dog (a huge, beautiful Great Pyrenees). So last summer, he came by a lot in the afternoon and rang the doorbell 50 times in a row until someone answered the door (often me, since my roommate usually works until 10pm or later).
King Douchebag of Asshat Valley is an executive director I used to work for. Think Michael Scott’s character from The Office, except Michael Scott believes he has to do funny things to be considered funny.