Home Sweet Home

You know the funny thing about our homes. We love them until we see a better one.

Now that my house is getting fixed up and looking pretty good I was almost thinking about staying here...that is until the neighbors had yet another one of their loud parties ON A MONDAY NIGHT. Is nothing sacred.

They don't own the house and it's not like I can complain to their land lord because the girl is the land lord's daughter and her stuff doesn't stink in the eyes of her daddy.

The police are out because the Mayor is her uncle. So I'm basically screwed in the complaint department.

There's the possible problem of selling the house while they are in high gear party mode but I've got my fingers and toes crossed. (Which explains any typos you might find here).

What troubles me the most is that these people aren't college students but parents of two small children who are on their own while their parents and friends pour beer down each other's throats with funnels. I guess they can't get it down fast enough. My kids tell me this is called beer bonging. I'm afraid to ask how they know this information. They probably learned it in college, they teach them so much these days.

Some of their guests look to be under 21 but that could just be my age showing. I swear I saw a 12 year old driving a car the other day.

I have thought about setting up a camera and taking pictures but so far the only thing they are doing that could be considered unlawful is the noise.

Their children haven't been taught to respect other people's property. Mom and Dad are too busy with their drinking hobby. I had to teach them, shortly after they moved here, that you don't just walk into my house...you knock first. They finally got the hang of that, now if I can just teach them not to walk across my lawn or climb my trees.

They have a pretty good menagerie going over there. They've lived there a little over a year now and have three large dogs that bark at the drop of a hat. The nerve of me trying to go into my own back yard. They fail to understand that my backyard is MY BACKYARD. The dog doodie farms a pretty impressive herd of flies each summer, making it purt near impossible to have a backyard barbecue. They do their grillin' in the front yard. Can't imagine why.

They also have a couple of cats that live indoors as well as a half starved cat that lives outside.

Sorry to dump my woes on you. This is my little delimma and I'll have to work it out. However, if you know any good hit men please let me know. :0)