Neighbors are a Nuisance

Its really no secret that I despise Neighbors and basically have spent a good deal of avoiding or ignoring them which has worked well for me. Neighbors are nosey, opinionated, annoying, time consuming obstacles. Neighbors  serve no true purpose accept to bother you with these moronic social protocols (and social norms ) as much a humanly possible until you actually feel that your loosing your godforsaken mind.

Things unfortunately change in this case we made a geographical change moving out of the Great Southern Swamp to The Southern Country. One side effect of living here is the fact that the people here are insanely social and gossip is their bread and butter. I’m not social and I hate gossip. Lucky for me very few of our Neighbors actually live here year round so the benefit being that we only see them once in a blue moon for a few days and then their gone again for months. The house to our left is used as a family meeting/vacation spot which means their never around. The house on the right is the same story accept the people on the right their there even less which is wonderful.

Now with that said We did officially meet the couple that lives on the right of us once and I’m guessing We will never speak with them again. See heres the unfortunate events that doomed anything social between us and the Neighbors occurring ever again. We met them one afternoon when My Wife and I were hanging out on our home office’s massive front porch. The Neighbors happened to be out in their front yard doing mundanely routine lawn care crap at the same time. Eventually the Neighbors came over and introduced themselves and we introduced ourselves in return, and then proceeded to shoot the inanest of shit. After a few introductory minutes the Neighbors finally returned to their yard and life went on.

The next day I got an e-mail from our Realtor (We were selling our Great Southern Swamp vacated Offices) stating the bullshit shoppers were ready to make a real deal and I needed to contact him ASAP. Well I immediately e-mailed him, waited 4-5 minutes and then texted him followed directly with a phone call, but I couldn’t get a hold of him it was as if he just evaporated out of existence. This insane cycle goes on 8 hours or so and I still haven’t gotten a hold of him. A couple of minutes before My Wife came home I get a text from Our Realtor stating he had been called in for jury duty and had spent all day sitting down at the court house. While I was relieved to finally hear from the Realtor and to know what the hell was going on, BUT I was also pissed as a motherfucker because when he knew he had been called for jury duty he should I contacted me then and explained the situation properly.

My Wife gets home and I’m pacing the front porch like a rabid Lion at the Zoo. As soon as she sits down I erupt like a Nuclear explosion and launch into a full fledged Ranting and Raving Fit. I totally forgot where I was in reality as I ramp up more and more as I go getting a real adrenaline high from increasingly getting angrier. I spouted off all kinds of utterly screwed up statements and claims pertaining to our Realtor and the jury duty deal.

Here is an Example: (Note: When I hit lose my shit you know because every other word basically is fuck)

“E-Roc fucking e-mailed me 1st fucking thing and says we got a deal so I fucking have to fucking call him back but the son of a bitch doesn’t answer shit, not a goddamn thing! I texted the shit out of him, did no damn good, no fucking e-mails, no fucking phone calls so I’m fucking wondering what the fuck is going on since theres a sweet deal to get done quickly! Its fucking money, a good bit of fucking money and where the fuck is my Realtor, how the fuck can I get a fucking deal fucking done when I fucking can’t get a fucking hold of my motherfucking Realtor?!! When the fuck did E-Roc become an unbearable fucking asshole, he works for Us so he fucking doesn’t get a goddamn dime till we fucking sell the fucking shitty fucking old ass offices for fucks sake!!”

In the midst of this tirade I happen to suddenly realize where I am and as I turn to face my Wife I see both of our Neighbors milling around in their backyard. When our eyes met they both looked away quick as hell and then  putzed around doing meaningless shit like moving the trash can from one side of the house to the other.

Thusly at this point I think its safe as safe to say we will never be speaking with them ever again as they seemed shell shocked enough by witnessing such a enraged rant laced heavily with profanity.

Oh well shit happens. I’m not losing any sleep over it I assure you my Fine Reader.

Thanks For Reading,

Les Sober 

 

I don’t Know What I Am, But I Know I’m Great

I live in live in the back right corner of the Cardboard Neighborhood with its four tall walls and retractable ceiling located in the Southern territory of The Closet.

I’m not Alone, though I wish I was.
My neighbors are a bunch of troglodytes to say the least.
Who are my Neighbors you ask? Well, fine I’ll tell you though it’s a waste of both of our time.
The first of my neighbors is a rather large pocket knife. PK as I call him because I don’t know or want to know his actual name.
He’s a bore. He never talks. He just periodically blurts out military slogans such as ‘Death before dishonor” and “Remember the Alamo”.
There is a gang of condoms that while still attached to each other like siamese twins are without a proper box like a bunch of savages.
All the condoms want to do is talk to the small army of naked women in the large stack of magazines where apparently clothes are forbidden.
The magazine girls and the condoms just hit on each other all day in an endless string of “Ohs” and “Ahs” .
I don’t know any of the condoms names, or the army of naked ladies names, but if I had to make an educated guess I’d say that they all appear to be called “Baby”.
I can survive my asinine neighbors because I am special.
Those outside the cardboard confines of the neighborhood call me The Big Bad Boy.
They claim I can take your head off like a shotgun.
Thus I think its safe to assume I am in fact royalty.
Yet if you’re not convinced of my awe inspiring greatness then you can choke on this.
I’m the only one in the neighborhood who gets invited to the land of giants.
At least twice a day the giant named Tim comes and collects me.
I believe Tim is the leader of this particular group of giants.
Once in a while it’s just me and Tim hanging out, this again proves my greatness as I’m the only one the giant Tim consults in private behind the curtain of his court.
Most of the time though when Tim comes to collect me he is surrounded by his fellow giant friends who play second fiddle to Tim.
Tim lifts me out of the cardboard neighborhood and carries me to the bathroom, as it is called, yet I have not seen a single giant taking a bath in all these long years.
The Giant Tim turns on a metal appendage protruding from something called a sink.
Tim then fills my belly full of cold, crisp, clean water.
The cool water flows directly down into my awaiting belly via my mouth which is always agape.
Then Tim takes me back to the land of giants which I like to refer to as Timsland.
Tim places me on a low circular table which his friend giants are sitting around so that they may admire me.
I’m the most stunning centerpiece these giants have ever known.
After a few minutes of idle chit chat the giant Tim along with his friends take turns filling my belly button with various exotic and quite aromatic plants with names like “Grape Ape” or “OG Kush”
I suppose these are gifts paying tribute to me and all that I am.
Then the truly grand party begins.
Giant Tim lights sweet smelling sticks called Intense I believe due to the pungent trails of smoke that drift from its end when exposed to fire.
Tim then plays the music of other giants I’ve never met with strange and exotic names like Metallica, Slayer, and Anthrax at a rather high volume.
Tim then sits down with his fellow giants around the table.
He takes a small combustable device and creates a small flickering flame.
He then holds the small flame up to my belly button and sets the exotic plant, given to me as a tribute, on fire.
As the plant smolders in my belly button Tim inhales the smoke through my entire body and out through a rather large hole in my head.
After I make my rounds the giants are pleased with me and agree I am something referred to as “Cool as shit” which is obviously another dubious title for me affirming I am royalty even more so.
The giants then lounge around Timsland eyes half closed in satisfaction.
They giggle, laugh, smile and thoroughly enjoy themselves in my company.
Still, things are not always so copacetic in Timsland.
Timsland is under constant threat by an even larger female giant known as an Adult.
Sometimes during the parties the Adult summons Tim and Tim makes a frantic exit while the other giants look on anxiously.
But it can get even worse I tell you.
Sometimes the Adult storms into Timsland and crashes the party she wasn’t invited to.
When the Adult invades Timsland Tim immediately hides me from view.
I believe this is because the larger Adult wants to capture me for my endless greatness and take me far away from Timsland to serve only her.
Tim being the smaller of the two giants would not fair well in a physical confrontation so he must hide me so I can’t be confiscated by the Adult threat.
One day the Adult found where Tim was hiding me.
The Adult was enraged at Tim keeping her from me and she then kidnapped me.
I was thrown into a prison known as The basement were I was confined to an old luggage trunk.
I spent my days longing for Tim to come and steal me back and take me to Timsland to be properly celebrated.
Days turned into months and I was convinced I was abandoned or perhaps exiled by the angry Adult.
I had given up all hope as my days of glory were far gone.
That was until the Adult came to collect me and fill my belly with cold, crisp, clean water.