I hate my new next door neighbors. I hate them so, so much.
Let me preface this by saying that one of the first things to lady said to me when she moved in was, "Is this a nice, quiet neighborhood?" Well, it was. I told her that she only had to worry about the kids next to my house as the youngest adolescent brat of that house has a tendency to steal bikes and go around with his friends pretending to collect money for a non-existent charity. Well, I only caught him trying to steal my bike out of my garage once. Fucker. I conveyed this in a much more polite manner. Following this exchange, she gave me her husband's card. He's a lawyer.
Later, after I had returned home from a day at school, she called me on the phone to tell me that my garage door open in a very "fuck you" tone of voice. I realize how paranoid I sound, but let me ask one question: Why would she ask if this is a quiet neighborhood? Was she worried we were noisy? No, she just didn't want to be the only noisy people on the block.
She has a cockatoo. Or a cockatiel. Or a parrot. Or something. And it won't shut the fuck up. It SCREAMS. It screeches. The noise is so loud I can hear it from every room in the house. EVERY ROOM. It's not like I can pick my shit up and move to another room -- which is an inconvenience either way -- to escape the noise. When I first heard the bird scream, I thought a woman was being mutilated. It's a horrible noise, and just when you think the bird's stopped for a while? It starts back up again.
The kids play basketball loudly long after the sun has set. They scream. They yell. They jet around on their motor scooters, and you know what? They look like assholes on their scooters. And you know what else? They do it at night, too. And she lets them. Stupid parents and their stupid kids with their stupid scooters.
The scooters are noisy as all hell. Every single time it zooms by our house, my calico cat gets spooked. She hides in the closet until it stops.
I'm going to stop bitching because I realize I sound like a crotchety old lady, but seriously, it's gotten to the point where I kind of hope one of her kids breaks something. And I want the bird to die. My mom found out that the bird can talk, and she's been trying to nonchalantly, indiscreetly teach the bird how to say "I hate Catholics!" whenever she's home and the neighbors are out. Hey, it wasn't my idea, and my mom is very understanding of religious diversity, but she figures this is the easiest way to get her revenge in without teaching the bird curse words.
DIE, BIRD, DIE!
Okay, I really don't wish harm upon any living creature, but I wouldn't mind a few hours of quiet, you know? That woman clearly isn't taking care of her bird. And why can't she bring her bird inside? For fuck's sake, it's disturbing the whole neighborhood.
Let me preface this by saying that one of the first things to lady said to me when she moved in was, "Is this a nice, quiet neighborhood?" Well, it was. I told her that she only had to worry about the kids next to my house as the youngest adolescent brat of that house has a tendency to steal bikes and go around with his friends pretending to collect money for a non-existent charity. Well, I only caught him trying to steal my bike out of my garage once. Fucker. I conveyed this in a much more polite manner. Following this exchange, she gave me her husband's card. He's a lawyer.
Later, after I had returned home from a day at school, she called me on the phone to tell me that my garage door open in a very "fuck you" tone of voice. I realize how paranoid I sound, but let me ask one question: Why would she ask if this is a quiet neighborhood? Was she worried we were noisy? No, she just didn't want to be the only noisy people on the block.
She has a cockatoo. Or a cockatiel. Or a parrot. Or something. And it won't shut the fuck up. It SCREAMS. It screeches. The noise is so loud I can hear it from every room in the house. EVERY ROOM. It's not like I can pick my shit up and move to another room -- which is an inconvenience either way -- to escape the noise. When I first heard the bird scream, I thought a woman was being mutilated. It's a horrible noise, and just when you think the bird's stopped for a while? It starts back up again.
The kids play basketball loudly long after the sun has set. They scream. They yell. They jet around on their motor scooters, and you know what? They look like assholes on their scooters. And you know what else? They do it at night, too. And she lets them. Stupid parents and their stupid kids with their stupid scooters.
The scooters are noisy as all hell. Every single time it zooms by our house, my calico cat gets spooked. She hides in the closet until it stops.
I'm going to stop bitching because I realize I sound like a crotchety old lady, but seriously, it's gotten to the point where I kind of hope one of her kids breaks something. And I want the bird to die. My mom found out that the bird can talk, and she's been trying to nonchalantly, indiscreetly teach the bird how to say "I hate Catholics!" whenever she's home and the neighbors are out. Hey, it wasn't my idea, and my mom is very understanding of religious diversity, but she figures this is the easiest way to get her revenge in without teaching the bird curse words.
DIE, BIRD, DIE!
Okay, I really don't wish harm upon any living creature, but I wouldn't mind a few hours of quiet, you know? That woman clearly isn't taking care of her bird. And why can't she bring her bird inside? For fuck's sake, it's disturbing the whole neighborhood.
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Edit: I cannot believe you properly italicized book titles in your reply. You scare me, not as much as zombies or zombie dogs, but still a little more than horses.
[Edited on Dec 31, 2002]