Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Like a smoldering fire, tensions erupt into war…

A bitch survived Memorial Day weekend, but détente was blown to hell Sunday evening.

As previously stated, there was a fragile peace following the police raid. The neighbors had approached the heathens to explain how they couldn’t have the cops coming over and how they (the heathens) needed to behave like…well…children. The heathens made noises that were interpreted by the neighbors as confirmation that they would adhere to the new rules. But deep down there was a resentment festering within the heathens. No one tells them what to do and when to do it! A bitch survived Memorial Day Weekend. Having said that, détente was blow to hell Sunday evening.

Sunday May 29, 2005
4:00 p.m.

Basketball resumed with four heathens playing at the neighbor’s hoop. ABB and sister exit dwelling en route to a barbeque in Wildwood (non St. Louisans note that Wildwood is a very pretty suburb full of trees and over-populated by deer). ABB approaches her sister’s car and notices that there is a bike right behind it. She looks over towards the heathens and asks the group in general could someone please move the bike so that the car can get out. This request was made calmly and without bitch-tone.

A foul tempered shirtless man-breast having heathen lumbered over and removed the bike. With an attitude. Because he should not be interrupted from the worst basketball game in the history of neighborhood pick-up ball to move his property from our grown assed tax paying property. Sigh. ABB and sister drive out to Wildwood, eat tons of grilled beast and drink ourselves silly. After a great time, we drive back home and pull up only to see that the heathens have exacted their revenge…on ABB’s car…, which was a very cute if neglected VW Cabrio…but is now a keyed up ravaged wee little car with four slashed tires.

Sigh.

The sister’s dander was beyond up! She paced and fumed. I sat quietly trying to think of who I know that would eliminate a certain nappy headed stank breath child…not kill, but remove…to Iowa, maybe? Anyway, the sister made for her lair upstairs to brood. I called the cops, who took down the info. and made nice sympathetic noises. After a sleepless night, the sister emerged from her lair just past dawn and approached the neighbor whose hoop had brought the wrath of the heathens upon the Cabrio.

“Mr. Neighbor person! Take! Down! This! Hoop!" It was Reaganesque!

After a brief conversation (see, serious read), the neighbor proclaimed that the hoop was going down. Sistergirl handed him his mail (the postman sucks, but that’s another post) turned and came back home.

ABB's sister "That fucking hoop is coming down! Fuck this shit! They egged the other neighbor’s house, so they were basically going to attack anyone they thought was fucking with their hoop! Assholes!"

I cooked her cheesy eggs and potatoes, which calmed her a bit.

Yesterday was spent dealing with insurance and car rental information. Because of the holiday, I was unable to take care of much. But the Cabrio should be at the car-doctor by tonight.

And so, the hoop is down. The heathens have dispersed and the neighbor will be paying my deductible.

A bitch was sad about this whole mess, but not surprised. As homeowners we had to take a stand. We tried to reason with the neighbors, but they didn’t see the inevitability of this drama. And so, here we are. I am without my beloved Cabrio. The neighbors are without $250 and the heathens are without a hoop. Fuck it all.

The Toll of the Great Shaw War of 2005

1 Basketball hoop
4 tires
1 exterior coat finish on the Cabrio
ABB's insurance deductible

Note – no lives were lost during this battle, but a bitch has lost some faith and all tolerance for the young!

5 comments:

Crystal-Lynn said...

It's shit like this that makes me a zero tolerance-having hardass. We'll get you a better Cabrio baby.

Crafty and Crap said...

I was so happy when I read man-breast but then continued on....so sorry about the car. Think of it this way, no hoop means that maybe now they'll just play in traffic-fuckers

notfornothin said...

i could make a phone call home to one of my cousin's and have the pointed-out-heathen 'removed' for you. just say the word.

"Radical" Russ said...

A bitch has more restraint than a Radical. I would not have said a word, waited for them to come play ball again, run over their bikes with the car, and had a SuperSoaker full of buteric acid waiting to spray all the little mutherfockers. It's not acid like Alien-burn-through-steel acid, it's just the foulest-smelling, hardest-wash-off stank a brainy high school Radical discovered in chemistry class two decades ago. It also does a fine job of permanently staining $200 sneakers.

As to what gn said: we turned into a society unable to raise kids properly sometime around the turn of the 20th century and the Industrial Revolution. Used to be that an extended family raised the kids, and a young parent could learn from the elders. If mama wouldn't whup a heathen ass, then grandmama, auntie, or cousin would do it for her, and then give mama's ass a tongue-lashing for not whuppin' a heathen ass in the first place.

But now we have the nuclear family (or in Texas, the nukular family), and the only parenting instruction burned into mama's mind is, "well, I'm not going to be the mean, controlling, vindictive, punishing bitch that my mama was!", not realizing that those actions her mama took were all rational and justified, because she views them through the prism of childhood awareness over a distance of twenty-odd years. Mama today wants to be liked by her kids; Mama yesterday wanted to be respected by her kids.

I'm not just picking on mamas, poppas are just as bad. Parents have lost the link to the parenting of the previous generation. Hillary was right, it does take a village. Unfortunately, now it's the village idiots raising the heathens.

Jeffrey Ricker said...

Remove, shremove. Clearly, they need to be destroyed. Preferably by flaying alive.

I just can't decide whether I mean the heathen-youthbeasts or your idiot neighbors.

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