I saw that posted on BoingBoing and I clicked all the way through to the original post to see if the poster had any idea what kinds of godless activities the new neighbors objected to. As it turned out, no.
If I got that, I’d just laugh. And maybe start blasting my godless music a little louder.
Here’s IB’s final performance of this fine tune which, in retrospect, still seems more interesting than anything I heard this year or last on contemporary radio.
In college I wore out the record and had to go out and smack down three bucks for a replacement. That accounted for two of the 30 million the album sold.
Thanks for the link. I agree about the sad state of pop music these days. Having said that, a friend gave me a ticket to an Arctic Monkey show in Chattanooga. Holy crap – I’m pushing 50…and now I’m into the Arctic Monkeys. Did not see that coming!
I wonder if the godless acts in question had anything to do with producing n angel?
And all kidding aside, this is why Beloved wants to buy a house with a moat. If Barb & Tom ever tucked a note like that in our mailbox, we’d be on the 11:00 news.
I’m not condoning the above letter, they lost me at Godless activities, but for humours sake I’d like to hear from Surf Reporters with regards to the other point of view. What if you had a young child and your neighbours were constantly engaging in loud passionate lovemaking /fucking that could clearly be heard through a shared wall? Would you say anything? What kind of letter would you write?
Fucking talk to them. I was on our HOA board and people were constantly calling me about people leaving their trash cans out too long, playing loud music too late, not edging their sidewalk enough.
Get to know you next door fucking neighbors and have a goddam conversation with them. You are a fucking adult, handle your issues by starting a conversation not by calling someone godless for fuck’s sake. That note means shit. What they call godless could me sitting in a lawn chair sucking down a Busch beer.
Talking doesn’t always result in an acceptable solution.
Across the road neighbors had a large dog (okay, several dogs but the large one was the offender) who barked all night long. A few days after speaking to them about it and the dog had been barking for hours, I heard a loud gun blast.
Yeah, they shot it. I’ll be damned if I ever discuss barking with them again.
I had a friend who lived in a duplex, and the other tenants would occasionally hold loudly musical prayer meetings on the front lawn. He finally set a speaker in the window and blasted lines from The Exorcist, including his particular favorite, “Your mother sucks cocks in hell!”
“By God, we sure can! Jesus, why didn’t you say something a long time ago? I mean … Christ, if you’d only said something to our faces instead of leaving notes under the door, this could have been settled man to man.
“And while you’re at it, get that God-damned Bathtub Mary off the lawn.”
Do? I’d stick it up on the fridge as a testament to all the idiots in the world.
Or maybe a nice Santeria alter on the front lawn.
altAr, dammit, altar!
‘Ol Barb is going to be hard to deal with….
What would I do?
All the worst things.
I would laugh and laugh and laugh. I’d share it with all my friends and my other neighbors so they, too, could laugh and laugh and laugh.
Oh, and I would not tone down my “godless” activities (whatever that means).
I’d tack it on their front door with instructions to fold it until it’s all sharp corners and shove it up their ass.
I saw that posted on BoingBoing and I clicked all the way through to the original post to see if the poster had any idea what kinds of godless activities the new neighbors objected to. As it turned out, no.
If I got that, I’d just laugh. And maybe start blasting my godless music a little louder.
loudspeaker aimed at Barb and Tom’s house. In A Godda Davitta. 24/7.
I didn’t even know they were Italian.
Here’s IB’s final performance of this fine tune which, in retrospect, still seems more interesting than anything I heard this year or last on contemporary radio.
In college I wore out the record and had to go out and smack down three bucks for a replacement. That accounted for two of the 30 million the album sold.
John
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pA7V68w5hiA
Thanks for the link. I agree about the sad state of pop music these days. Having said that, a friend gave me a ticket to an Arctic Monkey show in Chattanooga. Holy crap – I’m pushing 50…and now I’m into the Arctic Monkeys. Did not see that coming!
Put my speakers in the window and blast some Ozzy!
Get a couple of kegs, fire up the bong, and invite a parade of hookers over.
Reply with my own note, “When does she turn eighteen?”
Winner!
signed Chester.
Was that note at least attached to a Bundt cake?
I wonder if the godless acts in question had anything to do with producing n angel?
And all kidding aside, this is why Beloved wants to buy a house with a moat. If Barb & Tom ever tucked a note like that in our mailbox, we’d be on the 11:00 news.
I’m anxiously awaiting Angry White Guy’s post on this subject.
Full-blast Gwar tunes coming Barb’s way.
I’d do my husband on the front lawn. After school, of course.
And the prize for best comment goes to…BOMAMA!!!
Thanks Miss Q!
I’d treat Bard & Tom to a special evening featuring blaring Butthole Surfers music and lots of fake blood.
Give the kid a gift certificate for therapy for her next birthday.
Reminds me when my new neighbour asked if I didn’t think my truck too loud.
Nope.
Alex.
“This is me quiet truck, mate. I drive the loud one on the weekends.”
Just a thought.
jtb
I’m not condoning the above letter, they lost me at Godless activities, but for humours sake I’d like to hear from Surf Reporters with regards to the other point of view. What if you had a young child and your neighbours were constantly engaging in loud passionate lovemaking /fucking that could clearly be heard through a shared wall? Would you say anything? What kind of letter would you write?
Dear Neighbors:
Thanks, guys! You saved me an embarrassing talk. I owe you a beer.
Dear Neighbors,
The website is up and the audio feed is online. If you allow me to install a webcam, I can start charging for the site.
Talk to the person instead of leaving a note.
Fucking talk to them. I was on our HOA board and people were constantly calling me about people leaving their trash cans out too long, playing loud music too late, not edging their sidewalk enough.
Get to know you next door fucking neighbors and have a goddam conversation with them. You are a fucking adult, handle your issues by starting a conversation not by calling someone godless for fuck’s sake. That note means shit. What they call godless could me sitting in a lawn chair sucking down a Busch beer.
Talking doesn’t always result in an acceptable solution.
Across the road neighbors had a large dog (okay, several dogs but the large one was the offender) who barked all night long. A few days after speaking to them about it and the dog had been barking for hours, I heard a loud gun blast.
Yeah, they shot it. I’ll be damned if I ever discuss barking with them again.
Well, the Busch beer might maybe be considered godless.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDXYzUlv0S8
Straight answer to the note: No, we couldn’t.
.
I had a friend who lived in a duplex, and the other tenants would occasionally hold loudly musical prayer meetings on the front lawn. He finally set a speaker in the window and blasted lines from The Exorcist, including his particular favorite, “Your mother sucks cocks in hell!”
That was great !!
Well, that note’s no good–what’s the GODLESS activity that the folks are supposed to tone down? WE NEED DETAILS!
Is anyone else annoyed by the spelling of thanks?? “Thanx”
that’s bad but thx really pisses me off. Let’s not even talk about “yw”.
Ooops, I left the blinds up again. Now the neighbors know exactly what my dick looks like with a flashlight pointed at it.
That’s what I’d do.
And what are they doing looking in my window, anyway?
.
“By God, we sure can! Jesus, why didn’t you say something a long time ago? I mean … Christ, if you’d only said something to our faces instead of leaving notes under the door, this could have been settled man to man.
“And while you’re at it, get that God-damned Bathtub Mary off the lawn.”
four words
“WEEK LONG BIKER PARTY”
with biker chicks and guns and fights and whiskey, we pay the cops so they are cool with it. They think we are godless now? wait.
I would ask them which God?
I wear Sansagod pants.
.