Sunday, January 27, 2013


I am accepting donations to help with the move. Every penny counts. I have no idea when I'm moving, but all help is appreciated. Bless/Thank you.

So you may recall that my house is set to become a Wal*Mart. And at this point I am okay with that, I just need a new place to live. Yes, it's scary, but I'll accept that over staying in my neighborhood another year.

I became grateful for this hidden blessing on November 10, 2012. That was the day I wrote this and decided that moving was really a healthy thing for me... because I hate my neighbors. :-)

Since the last time I blogged about my neighbors, "Maria" the woman who let her kids play in my backyard ~ right after I stopped one from blowing his filthy little nose on the American flag attached to my porch ~ has made four changes in her life.

1. Some of the kids no longer live with her. The other day I caught one of the boys screaming at Maria "I HATE YOU I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN" as he left with his father. Maria just stood there and said "That's awesome, more food for me, BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" awesome.

2. She ordered one of the Spanish-to-English sets Galavision has the ads for. The set that comes with the portable DVD player. Why not? She got herself a house without becoming a legal citizen, took a job one of my neighbors was hoping for ~ and got it because since she's not really a legal citizen yet, they pay her less ~ and she just got a new car, go right ahead. Have a DVD player too. That's fine.

3. She purchased a flimsy, 4 foot fence for her:

4. Cartoonishly large beasts.

Now let me be clear. I love dogs. Always wanted one, never got the chance. And I understand that most of the time, it's the big ones that are the most docile.

... These things are not docile.

And I have no clue what breed they are. I can guess they're some sort of pitbull/doberman breed, but honestly I have no clue. One of them has red eyes, that's as much as I can tell.

The small one on all fours can almost look me in the eye.

... I'm 5'4.

How do I know he's almost tall enough to look me in the eye on all fours?

Because that cute, charming, flimsy little 4 foot fence is offering me NO protection from them.

So far, they've gotten out and tried to make a meal out of three mailmen and several of the squirrels have gone missing.

Now of course, if you have aggressive animals, you want to be responsible. You train them, or go to obedience school with them, so you can learn how to take care of them. At least, that's what I always thought.

Maria? No.

Just now (it's nearly midnight as I type this) I hear the dogs outside, loose. One was across the street, annoying another neighbor and scaring her granddaughter, the other was in MY yard, climbing the stairs. Maria is outside. Surely, she'll retrieve them, right?

She stands out there, hands on hips and screaming:

"Hey... HEY!! NO!!. No.. uh-uh. Get back here. Bad dogs get back here. What?? What??"

I hear barking.


Maria walks back inside and slams the door.


The dogs continued barking, threatening the neighbors. Maria said "BYEEEEE~EEEEEEEEEEEEE" to the dogs several more times, until at last, the dogs came back inside.

This makes the 20th time in two weeks she's done this. Does she not understand that dogs don't respond to "BYEEEEEE~EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"??????

I can't stand when parents do that to their screaming toddlers at the grocery store. It's bad enough when a mom yells "BYEEEEEEEEEE~EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" to a toddler who should be taking a nap, now imagine that same moron doing it again, but in the street and to two dogs, big enough to eat Scooby-Doo.

I'm hoping I can afford to move very soon. I plan on starting the move obnoxiously at 4 in the morning.

I'm going to honk an air horn right in front of Maria's house, as many times as I can until either she's able to discern it's me, or until the damn can runs out.

I'm going to hang my head outside the moving truck.

And when Maria stumbles outside, and her dogs are chowing down on her leftover kids, I'm going to form the sign language motion for "I Love You" turn my arm backwards, and at the top of my lungs yell:


And see if she likes it.

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