Hi blog-diary thing. I need you to be there for me right now. I already ranted about this on Facebook, but now I am feeling more things and need to enjoy the glorious release of typing it out.
One of our weirdo neighbors was waiting for us to come home from work, on his bicycle no less, and immediately confronted Chooch about stealing his paintball gun and some Pokemon thing that is like, collectors edition? Both of these things he kept in his garage which is always opened. (And as Blake said: lock your shit up! This is the city not a farm.) Anyway, Chooch was all blindsided and was like “what I didn’t do it” and basically we all know it was some asshole down the street and the accusatory neighbor knows it too but since Chooch is the oldest out of the neighborhood kids, this is automatically his cross to bear?
You know who else was blindsided? Me. It took me a while to figure out what was going on because I was in my After Work Hunger Famine stage that happens everyday from 5:30 – whenever Henry chucks some dinner at my face. I was just trying to cross the street to get to food, not pay attention to some middle-aged bully straddling his bicycle and interrogating my kid. Ok, tough guy.
Anyway, we got the douchebag neighbor off our back and onto the other kid’s back (and that kids mom wa a screaming at him because she knows her son is a thieving cooze too) so you would think that all was well. But no. Because I say here and stewed all evening. Hours later, I snapped. My snarling bitch fest went something like this:
“Henry, this is fucked up. I’m PISSED. I just want to come the fuck home from work and eat the dinner that you’re going to cook for me, not be accosted by some rando neighbor on his lame ass bike for god knows what?! YEARS I lived here in peace and harmony, never having to deal with a fucking neighbor, and then we had to go and have a KID and now this?! Fuck these people! This is why I don’t go outside! CHOOCH SHOULD JUST STAY INSIDE TOO. WE CAN ALL STAY INSIDE TOGETHER. LETS GET WORK-FROM-HOME JOBS AND NEVER TALK TO A PERSON AGAIN.”
Henry is not on board with this.
NEW PLAN: Henry does all the handling of the neighbors. I’ll talk to Hot Naybor Chris BUT THAT IS IT.
The rest of them can suck my dick that they’ll never see because I’m a hermit now and also because I don’t have one.
I liked this neighbor better when he was on house arrest and our house was out of ankle bracelet range.
Actually I didn’t even know who he was until after I recovered from my dumbfounded stupor and asked “who the fuck was that?!” as he pedaled off into the horizon like Miss Almira Gulch. And Henry and Chooch yelled, “LARRY!”