Toney talked to Nancy Saturday morning and she had all sorts of plans laid-out, so her family might better cope with the horrors of daylight savings time. Every time the clock is changed, needless to say, it sends the entire bunch spiraling into an extended state of disorientation and pronounced vertigo. It’s one hour!
But Nancy had a full day of strenuous exercise planned, along with a special menu, so everyone might be tired and want to fall asleep early. She’d been dreading this day for weeks, she said, because it’s always filled with hysterical crying jags and people thrashing about in confusion and misery, beneath the covers. I guess it sometimes take two full weeks until everyone becomes fully acclimated.
You might think I’m exaggerating, but you would be mistaken. These are the same people, remember, who are bedridden with jet lag following a short flight within the same time zone. Charlotte to Atlanta? Yeah, that’ll require two days of recovery. Get out the hot water bottle…
Nancy is also OBSESSED with a neighbor who bought a brand-new Subaru which, she says, cost $35,000. She told Toney the people didn’t even need a new car, and she just can’t let it go. She says she finds herself standing by a window for ten or fifteen minutes at a time, staring at the vehicle parked in the driveway next-door, just seething with anger.
What the hell, man? Is this the inevitable crack-up in progress? It’s classic Nancy that she would presume to know what somebody else might need. And what does need have to do with it, anyway? Maybe they just wanted the new car? How is that any of Nancy’s business?
But it’s gone beyond the classic Nancy, now. It’s started to transition from standard kookery, to something else. I think she’s slowly losing her grip, I really do. Stay tuned for further developments.
And speaking of neighbors… Brad and I were having an email conversation this morning, about someone in his neighborhood who might or might not be one of those adult baby weirdos. You know, the ones who wear enormous diapers, suck on an oversized pacifier, and cry for someone to change them because they just made poo-poo? Heh. There are reportedly rumors…
And I’d like to turn that into the Question of the Day. In the comments section, please tell us about your strangest neighbors. In your estimation, anyway. I think most neighborhoods and apartment complexes have a few curious characters around, and we need to know about them. Even if it’s just based on rumors, or speculation. This ain’t a deposition, dammit.
I’d have to say our strangest neighbor is a woman I call High Neck. She has three kids, all of whom have the peanut allergy, somehow. When they were in grade school she was always raising nine shades of hell, and trying to ensure that not one particle of peanut dust be allowed to settle within a hundred yards of the school. She was responsible for all sorts of extra precautions being administered there, beyond the normal hysteria.
She used to chat with Toney a little, and was odd but friendly enough. Her husband looked like Gino Vanelli, and apparently just hung around the house writing poetry and playing acoustic guitar. Supposedly he inherited a bunch of money, and didn’t need to work. And he couldn’t have been more unfriendly and aloof.
Then the woman started walking around town with all sorts of metal apparatus around her neck, like scaffolding or something. I never knew what happened to her, but she was all hyper-extended, and looked like those women in National Geographic with hundreds of rings around their necks.
Their yard (previously a showplace) was now a shithole, and Vanelli seemed to live there on a sporadic basis.
Post-scaffolding, High Neck’s personality changed, and she wasn’t friendly, either. Toney greeted her a few times, when she walked past our house, and the woman just grunted a half-hearted response and kept walking. I don’t think she was mad at Toney for anything, she just seemed to have changed.
And now she has roughly fifteen dogs, all of which are different breeds and sizes, and she walks them two or three times per day, all at the same time. She moves around the neighborhood inside this pack of miscellaneous hounds, her neck a little longer than normal, with no expression on her face whatsoever. And at this point she won’t even respond to a greeting.
So, there you go. If you have anything on this subject, please let ‘er rip.
And I’m going to work now, where the ball vise is ready and waiting for my arrival. Ugh. Last night sucked, and tonight promises to be worse.
But I’ll be back tomorrow.
See ya then!
We ARE the strange neighbors!
We are too.
We should be neighbors. We could terrorize our street.
I bet we would have a hell of a good time doing it, too.
Yeah, I can’t think of anybody really weird in my building, so it must be me.
We are also the weird neighbors! Only two neighbors like us!
Our brand new neighbors won’t speak to us but attends high yes with our other neighbor. Sheesh. But we’re the flakes. That’s ok.
HOT DAMN I WAS FIRST!
Hope you have a great week Jeff!
Strange neighbors…I used to live in an apartment on the 4th floor with CRAZY thin walls in Nagoya, Japan. The guy next to me would have his gf stay over and they would have a “special cuddle” ALL night. Then in the morning, he’d open his balcony slider and spit into the parking lot below for about ten minutes. Not sure if the “special cuddle” and the spitting are connected but the girl didn’t seem none too clean.
It’s been beaten to death, but according to google searches, will not die.
The mountains always brought out my strangest neighbors, not to be topped by anyone in the past or present:
http://thewvsr.com/gargoyle.htm
Classic! Love it.
Hmmm, they say if you sit around a card table and can’t spot the “fish”, you are the fish. Actually I get along fine with my three neighbors. Quite a bit of beer is consumed with them at regular intervals.
Angie, glad to see you are okay. My nephew is in Nagasaki and is fine as well. Hopefully the Navy will send him home in a couple of weeks as scheduled but I have a feeling the Sea Bee’s won’t be going anywhere.
Thanks WB! Actually, I’m home in Michigan now. I was worried for all my friends and former co-workers but it seems that everyone I know is safe. I hope your nephew will still get sent home and not be deployed, especially with the nuclear reactors having problems. (^_^)
We had a little old man that lived next door to us. His house looked like it belonged on an episode of “Hoarders” and he never bathed–EVER! He really stunk and had teef that looked like an 85-year-old Englishman. He also must have never owned a pair of toenail clippers, because they stuck out about two inches from the end of his toes…like big ol’ Fritos Scoops! Nasty! He inherited the house from his mother after she died (she was probably still there, underneath a pile of clutter) and never did anything to fix up the place.
We had to go into his basement once to help him with something and I thought we would never come out alive…the smell would have gagged a maggot off a gut wagon!
I’m never eating Fritos Scoops again ever after that visual.
that was my first thought.
My next door neighbor gets his mail and then cusses at the top of his lungs. F words are flying around, because of the mail? Other days, I guess when he is in a better mood he sings at the top of his lungs. I have yet to hear a song I know…. He is a Doctor for goodness sake. Aren’t they supposed to have their “stuff” together? To talk to him (when he isn’t cussing or singing) he is the nicest guy and very friendly. Just a little unnerving when he goes postal. We have another neighbor that leaves his garage door open ALL THE TIME. Winter, Summer, day, night, doesn’t matter it is always open.
My next door neighbor is a shut-in, and creeps me and my wife the fuck out. Every now and then I see him drive by, but he parks his car in a garage building located in the alley that runs behind our houses, and enters his house via the back door, walking through his backyard behind fencing that keeps him hidden from the outside world. His front yard is filled with some sort of ground-cover vegetation that does not require any sort of maintenance. The vegetation is somewhat unkept-looking, but does the job adequately enough I guess. It would be nice if he were to hire someone to put a coat of paint on his house, however. The only time I ever met him (if you want to call it that), was when I was moving into my current house about two years ago, and was parked in the back alley loading some things into my garage building. Apparently I was blocking him from getting to his garage. This seemed to have a very vexing effect on him, as he was unable to make complete sentences or introduce himself (I only later learned his name from another neighbor). He really wanted me to get out of his way. When I asked another neighbor about him, I was told that he was going through a ‘really difficult time’. I assumed he had some sort of disease or something. I have only recently learned that the ‘really difficult time’ entails being laid off from a job. He seems to be in his thirties or fourties. I imagine his apparent incapacity for human interaction might be limiting his potential for finding gainful employment. My wife and I have run his name through various child molester databases, just to make sure we don’t have to worry about that (we have a young child, after all). As far as we know, he is harmless — just extremely creepy. Maybe I’ll go over there this evening after work and ask to borrow a cup of sugar. Fukkin’ creep-tard!
I know you think you’re clever, but you sound like a real dick.
Its real easy to talk trash on the internet, isn’t it Shane!
Wasn’t that the question? To tell about your strange neighbors? Not getting the “dick” thing (now that sounds strange – because I DO get dick, just not this response!)
Shane is merely showing off his name-calling skills.
Very impressive, Shane!
Let’s everybody give Shane a round of applause…
Stop giving the kid ink. Any teenager can jump on a forum and pretend he’s not a virgin. Just let him lay there like shit in the sun. The flies will do their job.
jtb
i’m a little confused my self, you usually say much more strange things than this Lee Harvey, not sure what ol’ Shane has his panties in a bunch over.
Aw, who the fuck knows? Calling someone a dick over the internet is so ho-hum. Assuming there was a legitimate beef (and I couldn’t find one?) the word I’d prefer to see is “cunt”. Lee Harvey Ramone, you’re a cunt. See? Or maybe one of my other favorites, Lee Harvey Ramone, you’re an assrabbit. That’s a pretty good one.
Don’t be a cunt, or an assrabbit, shane.
I’ve worked very hard on my assrabbit costume. Its about time someone noticed.
Are assrabbits where dingleberries come from?
“I imagine his apparent incapacity for human interaction might be limiting his potential for finding gainful employment.”
I like that, it is very well said and very on point.
Perhaps Shane IS your creep-tard neighbor and he’s really pissed that you’re shit-talking up his creepiness.
Or maybe he just likes dicks. Just sayin.
That’s exactly what I was thinking…that and Shane must be new.
Maybe you’re a dick because the post was so long? Or maybe we’re all dicks and appreciate our own kind?
Being a dick would be going over there and asking for a human skin lampshade.
When I lived in Parkersburg I had a neighbor that talked to herself constantly like a real conversation going on. She would stand at the bus stop across from my apartment and yak really loud and fast. Sometimes it sounded like bunch of agitated ducks. She would also spin around in a circle as she waited. Harmless I guess but flat-out strange.
I also had a neighbor claim I beat his dog. WTF? The dog had a cast on one leg and a neck brace like a human would wear. Funniest thing I ever saw. Couldn’t have been caused by those small sinkholes in your backyard could it? Asshole.
I get along with my neighbors, but they do some weird shit sometimes.
Dan likes to walk around without a shirt on, and he’s huge. He’s been openly growing marijuana in his back yard since we moved into the nighborhood about 10 years ago. Nobody bothers him about it. His wife got in a car accident and got a settlement for $250,000 (Dan told me). Instead of paying down his house he bought a Cadillac, a new truck, a Harley, put in a pool, etc. Then he told me the other day that he was worried about getting forclosed on. Idiot.
The other neighbor is retired air force, James. Really nice guy. Loves his booze. Again, nobody bothers him about it. He takes a cab to and from bars most days. Some days he also has whores (escorts) show up. I’ve seen two at a time show up, so I guess he likes to party.
I don’t really do anything weird, I don’t think. Our yard stays nice, but only because someone else does it.
We do have a weird old man living up the street. I think I told you about him giving out sausages from his grill one Halloween.
Your neighbour making out with cheese sounds a little stranger.
Oh yes! But I was a kid then. And he’s no longer my neighbor, though I’m sure he’s fucking cheese or melons somewhere this very moment.
So he’s someone’s neighbour somewhere – thankfully not mine.
There are cheese fuckers all around us. Your dentist could be one. The guy that bags your groceries, or changes your oil. Some say that one in three have had relations with cheese at one time or another. It’s a seedy underground.
“Seedy”. I get it. Nicely done.
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I will be thoroughly inspecting my cheese and melons after picking up groceries. Thank you for the insight.
Lol! I liked this. He gave out sausages from the grill for Halloween…I can just imagine the confused and scared looks from the kids. Ha!
Especially if he told the kids those sausages were dead warlock fingers!
He had a note on the front door that said, “Come to the back yard”. I thought there would be a makeshift haunted house or something. But he was back there, drunker than hell, with a grill full of keilbasas. And he’d just grab them from the grill with tongs and drop them in the kid’s sack, no wrapper, no bread, no nothing. My little girls were thrilled, but my wife didn’t let them eat them.
I fuck cheese, but not swiss like you might think. I wrap my dick in a slice of american and then proceed to beat that cuddlin’ puppy.
And once when I needed the money I bleu cheese.
Arizona doesn’t fuck with that clock changing non-sensical bullshit.
I try to stay out of my neighbors yard. However, one neighbor once had a strange cement…thing, jutting out from the side of his house. It’s roof was tin metal roofing. The things was about 5 feet tall, 10 feet wid and 6 feet deep. I think it was where he grew his pot.
Neither does Hawaii. Indiana went over to the Dark Side a few years ago. Most of us (hell, all of us) have no choice.
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My mother in law has a neighbor directly across the street that sits on his porch and whistles VERY LOUDLY. No song you can recognize, just whistles all day long unless it is extremely cold outside.
We can hear him inside the house with all the doors and windows closed, the TV on, and the air conditioning running.
Gotta go with Tammie…… we the ones ain’t right. Seriously, am I the ONLY one in the neighborhood with a full back piece, a Harley and a pink hair-dryer chair?
When we bought our house, the house across the street was also on the market. It was waaay overpriced – I don’t even know what price it sold. That being said, the new owners (about 6 months after us) are weird as hell. They don’t take care of the lawn and we call them “Momma and Poppa Roach”. We rarely see them, and if we do, they skitter inside like roaches. They may be Witness Protection participants. No clue. They won’t engage in conversation, but every Sunday, there are cars lined up and down the street in front of their house. We joke that they’re having a WPP Amway meeting, selling their Amway products to unsuspecting guests. It’s either that or some sort of religious revival. I’mma gonna go “borrow” a cup of sugar some time. LOL!
When I was a kid, there was a paranoid schizophrenic (we later learned) from down the street who would wander around the neighborhood muttering to himself while doing a duck-and-weave from various unseen enemies. He then started to leave on people’s porches Xeroxed rambling letters and drawings regarding the surveillance that he believed was being conducted through our cable boxes–he got committed for that one. Come to think of it, his whole family had a streak of mental illness and general unsteady behavior.
There was also an older married couple, where the male half was outgoing, gregarious, and talkative as could be, while his wife? Well, in the 20-odd years we lived on that street, I don’t think I saw the woman more than three or four times. Odd.
There is a dirt head family up the road from me that has the most enormous six year old boy you have ever seen. No matter what the temperature is, the time of day, or the amount of snow on the ground, this kid runs around with no shirt and no shoes. All of us have complained to his bear of a father and he says “Nuttin’ I can do ’bout it” then closes the door. Then there are the hippies across the street from me. They have the only working fireplace on the street. Which they use (abuse) constantly. There are streaks of inferno inducing tar running down all the sides of the chimney. Which is painted white of course. And I swear they are burning their trash or treated lumber. It is the most God awful smell. Holy hell I can’t wait to move.
We had a gentleman that lived across the street that liked to scream obscenities at little leaguers playing baseball in the park next door. He decided to crank it up a notch one day while my dad was outside, and my old man proceeded to set him straight. The guy told my dad that he’d, and I quote “beat his honky-tonk ass straight out of this neighborhood.” Dad calls cops, guy goes off on an outstanding warrant. Gets out of jail, starts shit the next weekend with my hothead brother and I. Cops get called again, he goes to jail again. Third time he decided to start something was a week before the opening day of deer season, and he decides to start shit while we’re loading everybody’s guns into the truck. He quickly shut up after realizing what case after case of long slender plastic things were, and noticed that my old man had a revolver strapped to his hip for range day. Needless to say, we haven’t heard from him since. Other than that, no real strange neighbors…
My neighborhood is really boring, haven’t had anyone true weird or even “interesting” in over 20 years (I grew up here and only lived away for college). Weirdest we currently have is a couple in their 40s who probably didn’t sleep together until they were married and they have been married less than 10 years. Nice couple, but some of the cleanest-cut people I have ever seen.
In college, my boyfriend and I were the “weirdos”. We got involved in medieval re-enactment and our re-enactment group was experimenting with using “boffer” weapons (like LARPers use) at the time (has since become something just for the kids in our group) and we would chase each other around the neighborhood with the swords. Kids on the block seemed to think it was great; adults, not so much.
If I had my own place now, I would probably be the weirdo. Still do the re-enactment, would have people over to practice archery, allow our fighters (they use rattan swords) to use my yard for practice, and have parties with these folks were we would end up singing the funny (to us) songs that the neighbors would not understand.
Several of my friends are the weirdo in their neighborhood, one has decorated his shed and fence to look like a castle, a former friend had ballistas (giant crossbows on wheels) in his front yard. Very few have beautifully landscaped yards since we are away many weekends in the summer and most have at least one room in their house that is decorated with weapons and awards “scrolls” based on pages from medieval books.
Good God.
Fuck me runnin’.
Holy Crap on a cracker..
My nephew was into building trebuchets for a while, so I had to bring him in to the modern age by showing him how to build a tennis ball cannon.
I’m doing my best to be The Uncle Who Is A Bad Influence.
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I’m a dragon!
I saw a ‘Cheaters’ episode not to long ago where a girl and the Cheater crew attacked her boyfriend in the middle of his medieval war…they were warding off the camera crew with fake swords and what not. I was dyin’!
Lighting bolt! Lighting Bolt!
I worked on the Cheaters crew here in vegas. It was one of my strangest gigs.
Had to take a sword away from a jilted magicianthat was trying to decapitate the boyfriend.the second night it was cheating lesbians being confronted.
It’s a discusting reality show with absolutly no redeeming qualities but it sure was fun to shoot it.
Those people have a big reunion? Get together near Portersville Pa. every year. Probably 250 acres of tents and shit. I hear there is lots of fucking going on there.
Aaaaand how! It’s amazing how much fuck-uppery a single hour can cause someone. I barely noticed it.
I didn’t get out of bed till 2 pm Sunday, losing an hour of sleep was no big deal for me either.
You folks make me glad most of my neighbors are cows and horses. I do have one neighbor who is a 40+ female married to a 22 yo and she has a 17 yo daughter, a 13 yo son who is on permanent suspension from school and a 2yo infant. At 11pm every night, the teenage daughter’s live in bf gets in his “tuner” honda and revs the engine for a half an hour before he takes off. Complete with sub woofer testing. My other neighbor has included chickens and a rooster so I now get the cornflakes breakfast wakeup call at dawn.
I have a neighbor that keeps buckets in his garage filled with wood ashes and urine. He cleans out the ashes from his fireplace during the Winter months, then come Spring… he starts urinating daily into the buckets. On at least one occasion, I walked by his house and he was in the garage with the door up, pissing into one of his ash buckets.
He claims the mixture is good for his garden. (I looked it up, and apparently IT IS good for gardens… Go figure.)
Wow! Good to know! I won’t be peeing in our garden, but the ashes part I could do (or do you have to mix them together?)
Oops. I should have replied here instead of answering in a new post.
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/09/090902112750.htm
Urine is fine, just don’t let your dog shit on my maters!
I looked for a link to that clip but couldn’t find it, anyone know where it is?
Here ’tis:
http://thewvsr.com/sammichvoicemail.htm
Thanks Chuck!
This is the site I found out about what he was doing.
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/09/090902112750.htm
WHen I was in my teens we had an elderly couple across the street. We dubbed the old man “Mr. McFeeley” after the postman on Mr. Roigers Neighborhood. He would ride his bike in circles on the top of his driveway (peddling once per every 8 circles) and, if he felt really jaunty, he’d come tear assing down the driveway and make it 1/2 way down the street. He was a tall man and once he leaned over, hands on knees and asked me if “my Daddy was home.” I was 25 years old at the time and you don’t normally rfer to someone’s father (at that age) as their “daddy.”
Where I live now, we had a couple across the street who thankfully only used this place as their weekend house. They are both big environmental lawers in NYC. Aside from them, our house is surrounded by state land. They would come up on the weekends, kids in tow and purposely stride out across our lawn to get to the trails on the state land. During hunting season. With bullets and bows flying. Their self-righteous attitude was “They’re OUR woods, too!” They were anti-gun and always had a run in with the hunters. Quacks sold their place – to HER SISTER. I met her once when her dog lost its hidden fence collar but she seemed OK.
Wow. Even if they’re “your” woods, that doesn’t mean you can trespass to get to them. And New York lawyers had such a good reputation, too, before these people ruined it for everyone. Which reminds me of a vanity plate I saw many years ago: NY LOYA. It made me laugh.
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I don’t know if you would concider this lady my neighbor, but she ‘resides’ next door so I’ll just go with it. My apartment building is next door to a storage unit. Not a fancy smancy storage unit, but an old run down storage unit. Anyway, I saw a lady hanging out around my street and she sparked up a conversation with me while I was getting the mail one day. Nothing serious. Just small talk. She seemed nice enough. While I was walking back to my apartment, the downstairs neighbor lady asked, ‘Why in the world would you talk to her?!’.
Confused, I asked, ‘Why not?!’
‘Don’t you know who that is?!’
‘Um…no?’
‘That’s Jennifer, she is a hooker. You see them storage sheds over there? She rents one every month and takes random guys from the neighborhood and…well…you know. All that is in there is a mattress’.
I decided to investigate. Later that night, I peeked out my window and I saw her. Escorting two guys into the storage shed.
Well that would be convenient, if not deadly.
LoL! Nothing but a mattress.
Address please?
The Orths – not enough space in this forum to tell you all of the kooky stories about this “odd” couple. I will tell you one.
He was an 80-something old geezer (retired lawyer), he was blind and very feeble. He allowed his 50-something, alcoholic (with a capital A) former secretary to move in with him. She abused the hell out of the guy, hitting him with anything she could get her hands on. A spindle from the stairway railing was her weapon of choice. Well, one day he was outside screaming “MURDER”, so I went over to find out what was wrong. She wouldn’t let him back into the house and he said he was starving. So, being the model citizen I was, I escorted him back into the filthy-ass house, into the kitchen and sat him down at the kitchen table. All he wanted was a box of Nilla Wafers and some milk. I gave him the wafers and a plastic gallon jug of milk. He said no need for a glass (I couldn’t find any anyway) that he’d just drink from the jug. He started eating the wafers and started to take a swig from the jug of milk. She came out of nowhere and socked the jug upside his head. He had milk all over himself and so did I. I picked her up in a bear hug and threw her out on the front porch. Poor dude.
Oh that’s just friggin’ sad. Good for you, Bill, for stepping in. Anyone who can abuse the elderly deserves a hot poker p the ass in 3 minute intervals.
Seriously; that old dude could have been my dad. The abuser needs the death of King Edward II re-enacted.
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You’re just gonna leave that story lay there like that? I think you need to cover it up.
She called the cops on me, but they all just laughed, since they had been to that house 100 times that summer. She used to walk to the liquor store in nothing but shorts and a bra, carrying her blind chihuahua. F’n disgusting. She looked more like a bloodhound in a harness.
Never could stand that dog.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1I9GqxDA4ac for the reference.
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Ben and I have a really weird neighbor named Junior. He was in Ben’s mom class and according to her, he’s never had a girlfriend, and still doesn’t…or boyfriend before you ask. When we were out doing yard work last summer he would come stand at the fence and make casual conversation about the weather and what not, while Ben and I are standing there, dripping sweat, covered in dirt, and clearly not in a chatting mood. Once the conversation would wind down and become awkward as it naturally would with a creepy neighbor, he would continue to stand at the fence and gawk at us as we started working again. One day when Ben was working back there by himself, he told him that he goes on 2 week fishing trips by himself somewhere ridiculously far away. I think a 14 hour drive one way to this ‘fishing hole’, which we thought was weird. I mean, I can see a self discovering trip where you need to be alone for a little bit, but he does this annually. He never goes out on the weekends, never has friends over, and watches us from the window when we have people over in the back yard. He’s just weird. We live in a nice little neighborhood with lots of kids and elders and it scares me a bit that he’s there. He seems harmless, but so are a lot of serial killers until cops discover bodies in the basement…
About the best I can do is Mulch Man. His house is across the street and *every* time I see him he’s mulching the front yard. I think he must not actually live there, but stops by every so often for a little relaxing mulch work.
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If single women gorge themselves on chocolate when alone on Valentines Day, what do single men do when alone on Steak and BJ Day?
Engorge themselves, maybe?
Our current neighbors are freaks. We bought our house 2 years ago and we’ve NEVER had a face-to-face conversation with them. We live in a cul-de-sac in a nice neighborhood and when we moved in, all of the other neighbors came over and introduced themselves. We’ve all got kids about the same age so it would make sense for us all to know one another.
They did leave a note in our mailbox once telling us to rake the leaves. Apparently, the big piles of leaves with rakes on top of them in the yard wasn’t a tip off that we were, in fact, raking the leaves. Of course, after that little note, our raking days were over!!
They have roughly a dozen cars parked in their driveway all the time (oddly enough, all Toyotas) and like 9 kids. From the day we moved in my husband has sworn they’re starting a cult. As it happens, they’re starting a cult, they’re already a part of it!
We assumed they were Catholic because we saw this giant Crucifix in their living room one day when they had their front door open. Now, I’m a good Catholic girl and we have our fair share of Crucifixes in the house but this one, I kid you not, was floor to ceiling. Jesus was life size on that mo-fo! Anyway, our kids go to Catholic school and we thought their kids do too (based on the uniforms and whatnot), but we couldn’t figure out why they didn’t go the SAME school since it’s just up the street.
Turns out, they’re not Catholic but rather an offshoot of Catholicism called The Society of Pius X. It was started by a couple of bishops who were excommunicated because they thought Vatican II was the end of the real church and the Pope was “bowing down to the Protestant devils” by making changes in the Mass. Basically, they still say the Mass in Latin, the women keep their heads covered, no birth control (hence the bazillion kids), submissive women in skirts, fasting on Friday — the whole nine yards. Oh, and they think the Jews are trying to take over the world. They’re 9 year old son had to make sure we were really Catholic before his Dad would let him play outside while our kids were playing. I didn’t mention my husband’s a Jew. I’m going to hold onto that little nugget for a while.. 🙂
Your husbands’ a Jew!?
Kidding. I’m Catholic and have never understood any kind of religious rivalry. I feel like we are/were Catholic and if you wanted to join, fine, and if you didn’t fine. We don’t ask and really don’t care.
My uncle married a Jewish girl who makes sure you know she’s jewish but then will chow down on some ham like nobody’s business. I bet they’re the weird neighbors.
Two of my Jewish co-workers just love all forms of pig-based food – ham, sausages, bacon, you name it.
My brother was married both times by a rabbi (we’re not Jewish), and to a Jewish girl the second time. She’s cool, but his first wife was a batshit-crazy shrew. Still is, I guess.
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Not really one of my neighbors, but he is still close by. I live 7 houses up from my parents. 2 houses further down & there’s a guy named Peter. Peter is a paranoid schizophrenic who likes to occasionally not take his meds (I think to keep the neighborhood entertained). In between my parents & Peter is a single, older black woman who is raising three adopted children (I think they are special needs). She is nice enough, but stays to herself. Well, Peter (when off his meds) would stand in the middle of his lawn just to watch for Felicia. When she would walk out to her car, or just OUT, Peter would start yelling the N-word at the top of his lungs & other awful things. My father would always come to her defense if he heard these things & would try to shield her & her kids from his nonsense. She just ignored it, or would simply go back inside her house. He’s awful.
Then Peter started taking offense at my dad & when my dad or any of us would leave the house Peter would yell out things like “Jeff! Jeff! You’re going to hell, Jeff. Jesus calls on you to answer him, Jeff! Jeff! Burning in hell!” (even if it was only me or my mom who were outside). My dad would like to wave & say something like “Oh, I get to go to hell today? Wow! Tell Jesus I’ll see him there!” just to get a good rise out of Peter.
Then Peter started bringing items to the front lawn with him. Like a short-chained mean looking German Shepherd whom he said was trained “to kill”. Soon after his dogs were all removed from the home. (Turns out he had like 12 dogs! And nobody really knew!) Then he started holding a shotgun across his lap. That one made Peter disappear for a couple weeks & come back medicated & calm.
For over a year now he’s stayed to himself behind his giant curtains. You can’t see in the house but I can only imagine the crazy behind the doors. Peter has let his dark, short hair grow into a Beatles bob that he bleaches blonde. Which is odd because he is Mexican, so he has dark skin & weird looking bleach blonde hair, in a Paul McCartney bob. He has also taken up a habit of playing one CD on a loop at full volume with all doors & windows open. Unfortunately for the neighborhood he has chosen Blondie’s Greatest Hits or something because we’ve all heard ‘Call Me’ about 7500 times in the past two weeks. Something tells me Peter is weaning off the pills. If I disappear for a few weeks, contact the FBI!
That guy needs a fucking lobotomy, or at least a few jolts to the temples! Sounds dangerous!
Damn, he needs to be issued a court-ordered stay at the Nervous Hospital.
Everyone knows to stay off my property because I have hundreds upon hundreds of “No Trespassing” signs nailed up everywhere.
My neighbors all seem nice enough but we’re not close or anything. My neighbor to one side, her nephew mows my lawn in the summer. The one on the other side, she’s a runner too & we trade news & stories. As for the house on the other side of hers, a few weeks ago I had to be careful driving down the street to avoid hitting any of the half-dozen guys in FBI vests knocking on the door. Nondescript family, no idea what brought the feds out at 6 AM.
I’ve never had any seriously psycho neighbors (well, except for the one guy who freaked out on my husband for hosing out a trash can outdoors (apartment building, DH was in a common space) because it caused a roughly 1/4″ stream of water to go past weirdo’s elevated porch).
Jeff, I really hope Toney’s dodged whatever mental illness bullet Sunny seems to have passed along to Nancy. Which one is older?
You know, I’ve just about reached my breaking point with that douche bag Nancy. I’d give anything to have that bitch be my neighobr and say a fucking word to me about ANYTHING.
I tell her feminist ass and that ballbaby bitch of a husband to go to Hell. Plus, I’d actually encourage my kids to beat the fuck out of those pussified kids of theirs. If she acts half the way Jeff describes it, I’d make it my damn mission to run that band of Gypsies out of the neighborhood.
Holy fucking shit…that story just fired my ass up. I apologize to you Nancy sympathizers…but I’ve reached my limit of that kind of shit.
Buck Out
Hey Buck – tell us how you really feel. You always hold back! LMAO! “ballbaby bitch” needs to be worked into one of my conversations today! LOL
are there nancy sympathizers?
I wonder if she still has buckwheat in a leg lock.
Having spent most of my life in Indiana where they didn’t change time until a few years ago I HATE the time change. Stupidist thing I ever heard of. It takes me a few days to get used to it.
He’s not my neighbor (unfortunately), but my buddy has a neighbor who will stand in his backyard on nice days and sing Elvis songs (only Elvis) into a microphone at full volume. Not karaoke, no background music, just him singing Elvis songs a cappella. You can’t see him, but you can hear him. The assumption is that he is drinking because the words get steadily more slurred as the afternoon rolls along.
Ha!! I’d love to have a neighbor like that. I’d drink with him and work in a few Hank Williams, Jr. songs.
When we were still living in the apartment last year before we moved into our house, we had a couple that lived across the hall from us. They were in their early 30’s…she was a frumpy, frizzy haired crazy lady who always had crusty spit in the corners of her mouth and insisted on talking 3 inches from your face. She had an overweight dork of a husband who we often found sitting out on the balcony, watching Star Trek on his laptop for hours at a time (on time we went out for a smoke in the middle of winter and he was sitting out there in a snow storm, jolly as could be). He must’ve really hated his wife. She started catching on to our work routines and would stand in her kitchen window (that faced the parking lot) and wait for us to come home. When she’d see one of us walking up, she’d slide the window open and wave vigorously and yell ‘HIIIIEE!!!!’
Once they started warming to us, they would randomly show up at our door asking for random household objects. A sponge, a hammer, cleaner, a cup of flour…stupid shit like that, which we always gave them. In return, the dude would bring over movies for us to watch, and these weren’t even good movies…they were old D list 80’s movies that I’d never seen or heard of. Something he most likely dug out of the dollar bin at a Blockbuster clearance.
Another day they randomly showed up at door with her cat telling us they were being evicted because the landlords didn’t like them. She was squawking away about it, while stopping periodically to giggle at the fact that her cat ‘liked’ our apartment and was scampering around, making himself at home in our bed, etc. I was pretty pissed. We could have been allergic to cats for all she knew, and judging by their lack of clean clothes and disgusting hoarder-esque apartment, I wouldn’t doubt for a minute that cat had fleas. Which could very well be why when we got our cat a few months later he suddenly got fleas a week after being there.
When we talked to the landlords, they did confirm that they were evicting them, but not because they didn’t like them, but because they were two months behind on rent and when they had stopped by to do yard work one day, Kevin (the idiot husband) excitedly showed them his new handheld Nintendo DSI.
I like the description dork. You don’t hear that too often anymore.
I’ve always had pretty good neighbors. Weirdest guy was a crabby middle aged dude when I was growing up. He hated kids, and once threatened to “Clear all you kids out of the cul-de-sac on my Harley.” The threat might have had some impact on us, had his “Harley” not been an old Harley 350 Sprint.
My worst neighbor was probably the County Fairgrounds when I lived in Washington. Yeah, Monster Truck racing on a Sunday night really cements good relations with your neighbors!
When I was in grad school we were absolutely impoverished, and so we lived in a questionable neighborhood way out in the country. We lived in a trailer, as did our neighbor, “Jane”. Jane’s dad was our landlord, so the situation was a bit delicate. Jande and her skeevy hubs had had some issues with the power company, and so they used a gas generator. It was loud, and it ran out of gas every night at 3:38. Then Skeevy would have to come out, fill er up, and yank on the cord to get it cranked again. Jane had a chronic, progressive debilitating illness that had twisted her body like a pretzel. When we moved in she could get around a bit and would sometimes show up at our door. I’m generally anti-social, and I’m a terrible housekeeper, so I would confine the chats to the porch. One day she announces, totally out of the blue, that if she stands beside the other end of the trailer she can hear everything in our bedroom. Umm, okay, thanks for telling me I guess? When she became bedridden it got worse. They knew I was a nurse, so her dad asked if I could go give her injections while her husband was at work. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but I hated to think about her trapped in pain all day. Her house was horrifying. She had a dog that was a cross between a lab and a weenie dog, and they kept it on a three foot length of chain, so it had gone round the bend along time ago. I had to dodge it to get in the house. She spent all her time on a mattress in the middle of the living room floor with a bedside commode next to it. She would call me when she got trapped on the pot. Awkward! I was struggling one day to drag the 5 gallon bucket they kept under the pot to the bathroom, and she yells, just in time, “Hey, watch that hole in the floor!” They had laid carpet over a gaping hole in the hallway, and I just barely missed falling through the floor holding 5 gallons of piss. Then she tells me I shouldn’t have bothered, that her hubs usually just throws it out into the yard when he gets home. Niiiiice. I wasn’t thrilled with dealing with her prescription narcotics, dealing with the piss, and dealing with her general craziness, but the straw that broke the camel’s back came was the speaking in tongues incident. Ambulances pulled into her yard one day, so, being the stupid compassionate nurse that I am, I went over to see if I could help. This woman who could not make it from bedside commode to mattress had somehow gotten all the way to the other end of the trailer (negotiating the gaping hole) and was fighting with the paramedics, screaming gibberish. We had another lovely wonderful neighbor who had also come to offer assistance, and good neighbor was a full-on Pentacostal. She laid hands on Jane and started to pray, and Jane started screaming “JESUS IS EVIL!” She also stood straight up, something I’d never seen her do due to the nature of her illness. Neighbor lady begs us to pray with her. Heh, I already was, mainly of the “get me out of here” variety, and the paramedic with us kept saying, “Lady, I AM praying.” We finely got her on the stretcher, and then she popped the restraints right off. After all of this, I suddenly began to have episodic bouts of deafness when she would call.
Now, we live in an absolutely perfect neighborhood. We’ve never had a single issue. Within the next couple of months, though, we will be moving next door to my in-laws, which I’m sure is when I’ll start having bad neighbor stories to tell again.
We had to live with the in-laws for a short time when I first got married waiting for our house to be built. They had NO door on the bathroom, just swinging doors like a saloon. I need my privacy when I am in there. I hated every minute of it. Unless in-laws are wonderful people I would never live near them.
We did live with them very early in our marriage, and it was hell. Now we’ll have a nice large pasture separating us, but it may not be far enough. They are okay, and they are great to my son, but I’m not the type that likes drop in visits.
Oh, we’ve had some doozies. Second to last neighbor was a full on hallucinating schizo who would stand on the very edge of our property lines facing our bedroom window and scream, full volume, until his voice would give out. our current neighbors are nocturnal. mom (agoraphobic), sis (also shoutycrackers, only her beef seems to be with the pear tree in their back yard) and twin redheaded brothers (both nocturnal) all live there in a big heap. of course, they’re hoarders. What we didn’t know was that they hoarded animals too, not just crap. When their overflow RAT population started coming into our backyard and BEGGING when my husband would barbecue, we finally called the authorities. They walked in to a house stacked up to the ceiling with bas of trash, amid which were dogs, cats, lizards, snakes and exotic insects. The rats? They claimed they were ‘breeding’ rats ‘for sale’…which amounted to turning over the entire second floor to the rats (and the wild rats that the squalor drew), leaving the faucet on in the bathroom and hucking a bag of feed across the floor from the top step every couple of days. Said rats all had names (couldn’t bear to part with the little darlings, of course) and were trained to come to a whistle, play fetch, and take a cheeto from between a persons lips.
Oh yes.
The police came to our door STAMMERING as they tried to describe all this to us.
fuck you pear tree! Fucking partridge harboring asshole of a tree!
Excellent! 😀
but not half that articulate, sadly…come springtime she stands underneath it and screams “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” and then snarls and screeches for awhile. I’m about ready to toss over a pound of ground meat spiked with heroin.
And I was gonna trash on my next doors with the 20 coon hounds in a 100×100′ back yard–with the never ending baying and the howling for sirens and train whistles and the delightful ever present fermenting smell of corn-based dogfood gargantuan piles of shit. I guess we hit the jackpot. I’ll just sit back and shut up.
My dad worked with a guy who after his wife tossed him out lived in a storage unit. No heat, no plumbing, he showed at the Civic Center, had a hot plate and seemed pretty happy about it. Ya can’t really beat the cost I guess.
My neighbors are brother and sister. I was told by another neighbor that they inherited the house from their parents. They are probably in their late 50’s. The man does not work. He could possibly be retired. I just don’t know.
But he is a sight when on those rare occasions he does yard work. He wears long sleeves, and what appears to be Playtex living gloves, a straw hat, goggles, and a surgical mask. He could have a bad allergy problem, I guess. But I think he is a puss.