Love Thy Neighbor, Part Deux

Posted: September 12, 2008 in friends, I'm an asshole, rants

Before I start today, got a Guest Review of “Bangkok Dangerous” over at Moog’s Movie Reviews,” done by Chris over at Chris Wood’s Blog.”

Thanks, Chris!


Now…let’s get started:

*********************************
Nothing says, “How ya doin’ neighbor?” better than calling the cops on them.

Yeah.

I’m a regular Wilson from Home Improvement.”


You see, a couple of weeks ago my wife and I heard a giant party at a house that backs up to a dead-end street across from us.

Here’s what my neighborhood looks like:


It was 1 in the morning, and all we could hear were people screaming.

We could hear this plain as day, because the sound was coming straight down the street at 770 miles per hour.

Similar to the speed in which Pauly Shore’s career has crashed.


Ugh.

After listening to this shit for about 20 minutes with no sign of it stopping…

…we promptly called the cops.

We. Rock.

We told them that there was a teenage party going on…and they were making a ton of noise…

…and I wanted to get to sleep because my f*cking children would no doubt have me awake at 6 a.m. because – deep down – I believe they are the devil.

Kids.

The cops came, things quieted down, and I promptly fell asleep.

Until 6 a.m. when Beezlebub #1 and #2 woke me the f*ck up.

TOLD YOU.


Fast forward to last weekend, where we had a neighborhood block party.

There, we met Mike.

Mike lives in that party house.

Mike is approximately 102 years old.

Mike: “…and then…man…we should have another Karaoke party.”

Me: “Um..a..karaoke party?”

Mike: “Oh, it was awesome. Everyone was there – we didn’t know you at the time, or we would have invited you over.”

*blink*

Tom (Mike’s neighbor): “Yeah…it was awesome until someone called the cops. Can you believe that, Rod? Someone called the cops on us.”


Awesome.

Me: “Huh. WHAT JERKS!!

What jerks.

What jerks?

You’re looking at them.

Way to integrate with the neighborhood, jackass.

Between this and this…it’s no wonder why we don’t get invited to shit.

It’s either that…

…or these bags under my eyes are scaring the shit out of people.

Kids.

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