Dear Rhonda & Doug. I like country music, I really do. I do NOT like having to listen to it from YOUR stereo system through the walls of my place. All. Day. Long. I tried calling your phone, but according to Verizon Wireless it’s been disconnected. I tried your landlord. I knocked several times on your door, but you wouldn’t answer even with your dog barking between knocks.
Tuesday morning I am going to the District Court and ask for a restraining order for nuisance behaviour. I shouldn’t have to do that. Neighbors should be neighborly. Lord knows I have tried to be a good one, but I freely admit I’m human and have my faults too. I sometimes go out to get the mail wearing shorts, flip flops and a muscle shirt. It’s the residual redneck in me, I suppose. I also like mayo instead of ketchup with my fries. I drink PBR and Bourbon. Call it a weakness.
I’ve also resisted complaining about the drunken screaming matches you two carry on every few days, nor about the dog howling when you leave it locked up when you go out. I haven’t complained when you come home drunk, and the dog gets out and you spend the next two hours (after midnight) hollering up and down the street for it to “get it’s ass back here right now”. I guess I should’ve known what to expect when you moved in and I saw those huge honkin’ speakers and all that Salvation Army furniture. Hell, I could write a country song from just what I’ve learned about you two. Probably a whole album.
But the best part? I probably will write that song, and hopefully it will sell like hotcakes. If I make some money, the first thing I’m going to buy are headphones. For you.
eh, eh. I had to check, but I don’t think I know these people.
You probably don’t know these specific folks, but odds are that you might know these same sorts. Sigh.
I meet them on a regular basis. I like the dawg, did you do that?
Heh……. sadly, no. It was from a file-sharing site and I thought it just fit the overall theme.
The thing is, these folks can be the nicest couple when you meet them downtown or just out and about. But, when they decide to hit up happy hour, that’s when the “fun” begins. Same thing when they have friends over. Sigh.
Tim/
I have a tape of two F-4s running up their engines to 100% during pre-take-off, then full take off w. after-burners–all recorded from approx 50′ away. When neighbors (when we lived in apts) would get too loud I simply put my speakers (the LARGE ones) against the wall, put the tape one, and let’er rip at the max. Problem solved. (I once did same thing out the window from our first home in N. O. to silence a guy across the street AND two empty lots worth of courtyard whose music could be heard like it was next door.)
I see “Rhonda and Doug” almost daily. They come in stinking of booze, chain-smoking cigarettes, looking for WIC money so the taxpayers can feed their kids. She has an ass that is four axe-handles wide, and he is dumb as a turnip.
But when I object to them being on the taxpayer dole, I lack “compassion”. My favorite is that being fired and evicted for not showing up at work, or showing up stoned, or blowing rent money on coke or booze, is described as “down on their luck”. My favorite “Rhonda and Doug” usually have four or five ill-behaved and snot-nosed little children in tow. Guess who will be paying for THEM in twelve years?