Then There Was This Morning,

We have new neighbors. They just moved in about a week ago. I hate them. No wait, that's not the right word...Hate. I don't hate them. I just wish that that their genitals would turn carniverous and consume them while they slept. Yes, that's better.

So anyway, the new neighbors got here a week ago and made a bad impression by having 14, yes I counted, very drunk large men standing around their property hootin and hollerin every time I walked outside. Fine, they're moving, said I...and nothing is more conducive to productivity than an assload of Corona. We all know that. So, I forgot and forgave the "OOOH BABY!"s and the "WHY DON'T YOU COME PARTY WITH US, CHICA!"S, and chalked it up to them having pride in their ignorance.

Come day two, when I notice they have a small dog. Well, it's rule numero uno in this neighborhood that if you have a dog you have to have a fence. It's in the contracts you sign to move in here, you can't move in period with a dog without erecting a fence. Don't even get me started on the guy that lives behind me with the PitBull with an attitude and no fencing...that's another post. So anyway, these people have this little dog and as you'll see in the pic, no fence. Top that off with one of her mangy ass, peanut butter faced kids that comes out and beats the poor dog at least once a day (yes, I've already made one complaint about this one)...again I was giving them the benefit of the doubt...they just moved in, they're stressed out, and without the Corona fuel, they might be weak and tired. Here's their house that I took this morning:



Then there was this morning. I wake up, as cheerful as one can when one hears the garbage truck in the hood and snaps awake realizing that she hasn't taken her can to the curb. Run outside and already see a can in my driveway. I open it...diapers? Corona bottles? PEPSI?! Oh hell no. Hells no!!! Not my can...I look around and notice that my can is still in it's rightful place...check the one in my driveway again just to make sure I haven't finally lost my dog gamn mind. Nope...so I am moving the mysterious can down a bit when I notice the neighbor (who shall now only be referred to as Cunt Face) standing around outside with this big dicksucking grin on her face and she says to me in her best broken english...

"I missed the truck! I didn't think you would mind, we're neighbors right?"

I then proceed to give her the biggest WTF look eva...which probably came out with me looking more constipated than confused. WTF CUNTFACE WITH MANGY KIDS?! WTF?! You're diapery, corona'd, PEPSI'd garbage in my driveway? I produce enough garbage, with two kids, and a husband, and the garbage men won't pick up two cans full of garbage...we're allowed one, stupid Cunt Face with Mangy Kids, this is not a yours, mine and ours sitch. This is a mine and don't touch my property again or I'll shove a Corona bottle up your ass side sideway thing...I don't need this shit. I don't think we've even been properly introduced, because obviously the whole "Hi, new neighbor, this is Princess Bitch" would probably have stuck with her long enough for her to think twice about putting her dirty shit in my driveway. Here's some photographic evidence:

Her can which I've moved to now being in front of my mailbox:



My can which is already filled with, oddly enough, my garbage!!!



I'm going to complain today. The new "owner"/property manager of this place is going through a nasty divorce, and boo-hoo to all that and stuff, but dude...look at the shit I have to look at all day. Two run down POS trailers. We work hard to keep our yards and house looking nice. Move those pieces of shit! GAH! And if I can, find me a voodoo prince, preferrably someone with a bone through his nose and a shrunken head on his shoulder to perform some voodoo that he does so well...maybe I can get that whole carniverous genitals thing to come to fruition.

That or I'm just going to have to blog about her, like, ALOT. That'll teach her.