Monday, May 23, 2005

The Escalation of War – The Heathens of Shaw Episode 2

Okay, y'all were right. Fuck. The basketball hoop is still up. The heathens are still gathering between 4pm and 9pm. A bitch is still pissed off beyond belief.

My sister/roommate/landlord placed a call to our local neighborhood activist for advice. Activist Lady has a program that seeks to get the area heathens off the street and into activities. My sis chatted with her regarding strategies and our options. Basically, we can call the police regarding a noise violation, try to talk to these inconsiderate asses one more time or learn to deal.

What the fuck is wrong with these people?

Yesterday the little fuckers were out there playing ball at 9pm. The neighbor's long suffering and old as sin dog barked in desperation for 30 minutes. The poor thing was all but begging these kids to leave her in peace! I stuck my head out just as our neighbor on the other side of the house approached the heathens. Note - one of the Inconsiderate Neighbor's cars was in the driveway getting pummeled by the basketball.

Opposite House Neighbor to Heathens "Are you supposed to be playing when there's a car parked below the hoop?"

Heathen #1, loud and with an attitude “What she say?"

Heathen #2, exasperated by the interruption "Lady, we just need 5 more minutes!"

They continued to play as the Opposite House Neighbor attempted to converse. Then the Inconsiderate Shit Neighbor's huuuusband pulled up.

Heathen #2, cocky with the knowledge that he should get his way "She's asking if it's okay for us to play!"

Ass, sounding stoned or drunk or both "Cool. How's it going, dude? Yeah...like, just play when we aren't here...dude. Cool!"

Revelation - these people are just assholes! They don't give a flying fuck as long as they don't have to endure the noise and riots. The fucking wife was inside the house when all this chaos broke out!

As I slammed the door something like "Inconsiderate motherfuckers!" flew out of my mouth.

So it's war, is it?

Well, bring it on! This bitch is going to be one complaint lodging & police calling fool! Fuck it. I paid my taxes.... this year.

Jesus, I can't stand these people! My anger has moved from the heathens to the preppy "summer of love" shits who are enabling them.

More to come...

5 comments:

Jessica said...

Cussing at length, and a hack saw transformation of a pole into many small Statement Laden lenghts, is so the order of the day. "...when we're not here."
Bullshit.
He's bringing your sister's property value down with that one statement, regardless of the lessons regarding others' property (the car was under the hoop? Wifey was home?!). Fingers crossed he's snipped, or I'd be calling CPS from way over here. ;)

Jeffrey Ricker said...

I've got a hack saw -- but I'm afraid I'd be taking it to the neighbor's jugular, the shmuck,

Maven said...

Isn't there a cerfew in your neighborhood?

One word of caution tho on calling the cops... the heathens and their preppy MoFos enablers might just bump the annoyance up a notch or two more once the cops start making regular appearances due to noise complaints. Your car, your home, all could potentially become targets of their ire.

I remember when I was living in Asbury Park, NJ during the late 80s for a period of 6 months. The whole town is a blight area, btw. We had Section 8 across the street, welfare mommas outside, with their babies, selling their foodstamps for crack and what have you. Hell, we even had a transvestite prostitute on our street too. Lots of vagrants, but if you didn't mess with them, they didn't mess with you.

This was the status quo, that is, until the next door twat struck up a love connection with one of the "men in blue" and decided to call the cops, repeatedly, on the crack dealer as well as the loud-mouthed street-folk. As the patrol car drove away, every window in her house was smashed with rocks or stones, while we sat on our front porch drinkin' some watermelon flavored Cool Breeze.

Good luck with Mz. Activist in getting those hooligans to a rec center or something.

If all else fails and you just don't give a fuck what the results are... there's always Hank Williams Jr. Therapy--it's where you blast HWJ's music all hours of the day at ear bleeding decibels... or better yet have the same idiotic yodel in some of his songs done up on a loop so you can play it repeatedly until they all scatter like the roaches they truly are.

I hope this helps.

Wander with Josie said...

Good luck to you, ABB. The kids sound like the legitimate offspring of assholes. I say you take up golf on your front lawn and just start aiming for them. Ka-ping! Ka-ping!

Crystal-Lynn said...

ABB has neglegted to tell y'all that we come from a family of crazy women who will not back down once pissed. Our momma bought a 38 after she cussed out a Black Panther back in the day ... just in case he came back for another cursing out. I wish someone would break our windows over not getting to play basketball. I'd run for Mayor on that. There wouldn't be a black church for five miles safe from me showing up as a visitor Sunday morning to tell them about their children. And yes, these kids are in church. That hoop is coming down by the sweat of our neighbor's brow -- we won't stoop to vandalism and give him something to be righteous about. He'll have to take it down swallowing his pride and misplaced liberalism and latitude.

And regarding County urban zip codes, when Clayton fixes the heroin trade behind the Tropicana bowl they can call themselves civilized. You can't go far enough to escape a problem woven into the fabric of society.

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