Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Snap! I've been sucker punched! Part II

umm Hi. I'm here.

Look down...

Yeah that's me on the floor writhing from pain.

I just got my virtual butt handed to me by The New Girl in the CRAZAY MOFO NEIGHBOR Cage Match.

Two hits. She hit me; I hit the floor.

See for yourself...me...her....and it's not just the almighty power of strike out font that sets us apart.

(really anyone out there who knows how to strike the font in blogger I will be your best friend for the info!)

While my neighbor was crazy...hers was CRAZAY-CRAZAY.

State hospital CRAZAY.

But much in the American Idol way (...you know how they let the looser sing their final song for the fans who voted for them) I will provide you, my loyal readers... (Hi! all 4 of you!) the second part of my story.

The dogs. Those EFFING DOGS!

Sassy, Coco and Rascal.

Rascal was a son of a bitch - A fury of aggression, barking and dog fights.

While Sassy and Coco had low guttural barks, Rascal's was a head ache inducing nightmare. They barked constantly.

Due to the fact that they would you know, attack any friendly neighborhood drug trafficker- they were outside all the time. They lived on a 8X4 foot portion of blocked in driveway that was directly outside our living room window, below our master bedroom and next to our porch....they were never let out...they were never walked...they were never allowed in the yard.

While their barking was our soundtrack; their smell saturated our lives in every aspect. The poop was left to pile up for months on end. They lived in their own filth, and we had the pleasure of being right there with them. We could never actually open our windows because their smell would fill our home like it was a freaking Yankee Candle.

Rascal was eventually put down for attacking someone. The only shocking thing about this was that it took so long for it to happen.

The Yard. How to begin to describe the yard?

The back:
A dilapidated roofless shed bursting with countless rotting items, a family of feral cats and one serious bee infestation.
A large plastic rubber maid shed directly in the middle of their yard. This only had half a roof because Elaine never finished building it.
A large blown over party tent with a picnic table trapped beneath it and broken and piled up lawn furniture.
Lawn mowers, leaf blowers, wheel barrows, hedge clippers, shovels, ladders, screens and broken pots were everywhere in various stages of disrepair.
A bakers rack, a shredded patriotic bunting.
A pile of old doormats and buckets.
A broken mop with no sponge leaned against the chicken wire fence that separated our property. Broken windows, bookcases and gates.
Tires.
Old clothing blown off the line.
A child's faded sand table.
Cracked birdbaths and water fountains.

I could go on.

The front:
Cinder blocks filled with fake flowers. This was my personal favorite.
A broken garden bench.
Bird houses. Stacks and stacks of newspapers decomposing on the driveway.
Old chairs. Both folding and of the stuffed armchair variety.
Bricks. Just a large pile of bricks in the middle of the lawn.
Years worth of holiday lights that were added to every season and never taken down. Santa's Sleigh with again, fake flowers in it.

The day I came home and saw Elaine stringing Halloween pumpkin lights on the broken and falling over white aluminum Christmas tree in their front yard I stormed up to Spouse and announced we were moving.

We were gone in 6 months. Our reaction to living next to them for so long was to buy a house in the middle of the woods-in the middle of no where.

Now for the most part I do have to admit that Nick was a pretty swell guy and Elaine had her moments. Her hacking smokers cough mixed with the barking day and night really humanized the whole thing. Plus she was awfully generous with the odds and ends that she would steal from any one of the 40 jobs she had while we were living there. Almost every time she saw me on the porch she would grab a random item from her car and hand it to me saying she "bought it" for me. Windchimes, Yo-Yos...a stapler.
Sticky sticky fingers.

Mary and her boys are another story.

But do I tell that story? Do I go on when I am so clearly out matched?

7 comments:

Lauryn said...

Yes, please go on! I love crazy neighbor stories. I am also a little terrified to keep reading them. I move in 3 weeks. I hope everyone is normal!!

And, thanks for giving me a new blog to stalk. After reading The New Girl's story, I of course have to go back to hear the ending.

Megan said...

Oh crap, that last comment was me. That was my own little Blogher guest. I didn't realize her account was still logged in!

the new girl said...

Oh go on, Clink. Tell your cute little stories...

HA HA on the STATE HOSPITAL CRAZAY.

I really am confident, CONFIDENT that there are very, very few people with crazy-neighbor stories that would beat mine. Hence all my TRASH TALKING.

The pumpkin lights on the christmas tree, though? That's a good one, right there.

Elizabeth said...

You should keep going...even it it's just to keep TNG writing about her CRAZAY neighbors...of course I was front line for Nick and Elaine so I'm partial LOL

Heather said...

You can't give up, TNG might not finish. Your stories are entertaining (i am sure less entertaining living there) But TNG's stories are jaw dropping "oh my gawd" stories!

Amber said...

Behold, for the power of strike-out font is about to be yours:

When you're writing your post, click on the "Edit HTML" tab. The code is the word "strike" inside these little chevron guys: <>. So you type that in front of the word/s you want struck out. Then, after the bit of text you want to strike, type /strike inside the chevrons again.

debawriter said...

Wow, I'm totally picturing/smelling a Dog Feces Yankee Candle right now.

And you mentioned a party tent? They had parties? Where did everyone sit? On the dog poop pile?

Deb
sandiegomomma.com

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