Cogito
12-30-2003, 06:16 AM
Have you ever had a neighbor from hell? You hear stories, right? But you never think anything like that would ever happen to you, right? Well, surprise—sometimes it does. Man, I’ve been through hell and back, and it’s not even half over yet.
This prick that moved into the property next to me is a completely dumb****, poor white trash, and his place just looks like shit. He doesn’t exactly have a car up on blocks in front of his house or anything, but he never mows his lawn, or does any damn thing to take care of the place.
He’s got this ****ing humongous apple tree on the edge of his property that leans over onto my lawn, and deposits at least half of its fruit there. According to local regulations, whatever fruits fall on my lawn belongs to me—hell, if I wanted, I could demand that he prune the tree, so that it doesn’t drop stuff on my lawn.
Best thing to do with shitty neighbors is just not to **** with them, is what I think, so I’ve just kept quiet and cleared the shit up, and that’s been it. But we have these odd potluck things at work, where we draw assignments out of a pot, and I ended up with making a dessert pie—and hey, I figured apple pie oughta be a standard, straightforward deal…
But being the obsessive crazy-man that I am, I started checking around on the internet for recipes, and the best types of apples for such pies, and decided that a type called ‘Northern Spy’ was a good one – it was considered to be the best variety to ever have been created in America. Juicy, tangy, perfect for baking, etc…
And yes of course, it turned out that my white trash idiot neighbor’s apple tree was Northern Spy.
So, I try to put aside my revulsion for this shithead, and I decide to use those apples for my pie. But as I’m picking them (because I’m not gonna use the ones on the ground) this dickhead shows up, and starts ****ing yelling at me, to lay off his apples. So, I tell him that hey, by county regulations, this stuff is mine, and if I wanted to be an ass about it, I could demand that he cut that part of the tree down, that was over my property.
That put him on the defensive. He trash talked a bit, but then he backed down. Because, basically he’s an idiot.
I thought that was the end of it. But noooooo.
Dude. I don’t have any guns now, I don’t see any realistic need for it. But I’ve fired a few rounds in my time. In retrospect, if I had em, I’d have used em—hell, I’d blown those creeps away. In fact, that was their ****ing argument in the court case afterwards, when they sued me—that I was dangerous, and that I could have hurt this dumbass cracker, and that I had firearms. Well—jackass—I don’t ****ing have any! So the case was thrown out, of course. It was a damn joke that it got that far, but these ****s were too stupid to understand that, and of course their layers convinced them that it was a close call, so they went ahead, and they got paid, and convinced these idiots that _I_ was the bad guy…
So this white trash shithead called in his buddies, and went after me. They ****ing destroyed my place, man. They destroyed it. I worked my entire life to build that place up; to create something—and boom: that’s all it takes. A few ****ing ignorant shitheads.
It was ****ing terrifying. I actually ran away from my home. You are supposed to be able to defend your home in this state, you know—shoot intruders and all that. But I don’t have any guns, so what the hell are you going to do when you got half a dozen ****ing rednecks tearing your fence down, and nobody is answering the 911 call?
What freaks me out is, the cops haven’t done a damn thing about it, and those shits are still out there, looking for me. I have a few friends who helped me out for a while, but they’ve decided the heat is too much, so I’m totally on my own now. I can’t believe this stuff can go on in our world today.
I’ve been living like a ****ing hobbit these past weeks. ‘In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit.’ Man, it blows.
Then, someone apparently sold me out—I don’t know how it happened. They were just about to kill me right there and then without anyone being any wiser… But then some bright clan member decided that they would be better off, if they could somehow prove I had committed a crime.
So they put on a big show for the local newspaper, taking pictures of me getting a medical checkup -- that had the dual purpose of showing how compassionate they were to take care of me, and how I hadn’t shaved or cut my hair in half a year, and thus what a primitive crazy man I am.
This is messed up.
This prick that moved into the property next to me is a completely dumb****, poor white trash, and his place just looks like shit. He doesn’t exactly have a car up on blocks in front of his house or anything, but he never mows his lawn, or does any damn thing to take care of the place.
He’s got this ****ing humongous apple tree on the edge of his property that leans over onto my lawn, and deposits at least half of its fruit there. According to local regulations, whatever fruits fall on my lawn belongs to me—hell, if I wanted, I could demand that he prune the tree, so that it doesn’t drop stuff on my lawn.
Best thing to do with shitty neighbors is just not to **** with them, is what I think, so I’ve just kept quiet and cleared the shit up, and that’s been it. But we have these odd potluck things at work, where we draw assignments out of a pot, and I ended up with making a dessert pie—and hey, I figured apple pie oughta be a standard, straightforward deal…
But being the obsessive crazy-man that I am, I started checking around on the internet for recipes, and the best types of apples for such pies, and decided that a type called ‘Northern Spy’ was a good one – it was considered to be the best variety to ever have been created in America. Juicy, tangy, perfect for baking, etc…
And yes of course, it turned out that my white trash idiot neighbor’s apple tree was Northern Spy.
So, I try to put aside my revulsion for this shithead, and I decide to use those apples for my pie. But as I’m picking them (because I’m not gonna use the ones on the ground) this dickhead shows up, and starts ****ing yelling at me, to lay off his apples. So, I tell him that hey, by county regulations, this stuff is mine, and if I wanted to be an ass about it, I could demand that he cut that part of the tree down, that was over my property.
That put him on the defensive. He trash talked a bit, but then he backed down. Because, basically he’s an idiot.
I thought that was the end of it. But noooooo.
Dude. I don’t have any guns now, I don’t see any realistic need for it. But I’ve fired a few rounds in my time. In retrospect, if I had em, I’d have used em—hell, I’d blown those creeps away. In fact, that was their ****ing argument in the court case afterwards, when they sued me—that I was dangerous, and that I could have hurt this dumbass cracker, and that I had firearms. Well—jackass—I don’t ****ing have any! So the case was thrown out, of course. It was a damn joke that it got that far, but these ****s were too stupid to understand that, and of course their layers convinced them that it was a close call, so they went ahead, and they got paid, and convinced these idiots that _I_ was the bad guy…
So this white trash shithead called in his buddies, and went after me. They ****ing destroyed my place, man. They destroyed it. I worked my entire life to build that place up; to create something—and boom: that’s all it takes. A few ****ing ignorant shitheads.
It was ****ing terrifying. I actually ran away from my home. You are supposed to be able to defend your home in this state, you know—shoot intruders and all that. But I don’t have any guns, so what the hell are you going to do when you got half a dozen ****ing rednecks tearing your fence down, and nobody is answering the 911 call?
What freaks me out is, the cops haven’t done a damn thing about it, and those shits are still out there, looking for me. I have a few friends who helped me out for a while, but they’ve decided the heat is too much, so I’m totally on my own now. I can’t believe this stuff can go on in our world today.
I’ve been living like a ****ing hobbit these past weeks. ‘In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit.’ Man, it blows.
Then, someone apparently sold me out—I don’t know how it happened. They were just about to kill me right there and then without anyone being any wiser… But then some bright clan member decided that they would be better off, if they could somehow prove I had committed a crime.
So they put on a big show for the local newspaper, taking pictures of me getting a medical checkup -- that had the dual purpose of showing how compassionate they were to take care of me, and how I hadn’t shaved or cut my hair in half a year, and thus what a primitive crazy man I am.
This is messed up.