My Neighbours are Trash

I have white-trash neighbours on my one side now.  Great.

Just thought I'd mention that..

Update.

I think I might keep a running log of these guys. In all fairness, it's not nice to call names for no reason, so I'm going to jot down the reasons as time goes on. Also it might be easier if I didn't have to hop into html mode to do an entry, so if the spacing between paragraphs is off then you know why.

I want to quickly describe what I'm dealing with here: it's a guy and girl couple with, what looks like, a 9 year old boy and a daughter who might be in her late teens. The Mom and Dad look about 50 but they're probably in their 30s. The one looks like Rodney Dangerfield and the guy looks like he has Downs. From here on in, we'll call them The Trashersons since I couldn't be bothered to get their real last name(s).

For example, yesterday, I had to ask them to turn down their radio as it was pretty loud and facing my house. I should mention that I heard the radio go on, and then the lawnmower got fired up because you wouldn't want to use headphones cutting the grass - you know, to hear the music over the grass cutting. Anyways, after the lawnmowing was done, I went out and asked fairly politely. I didn't really get a Sorry or anything, he just blamed it on his kid: "Yeah, he likes to listen to the radio." The radio got turned down eventually after explaining twice how sound moves. Thanks, Lumpy.

That was just yesterday. I'm short on time for this entry so I won't get to the friends with Harleys or the wife who can't finish a sentence without saying the f-word every three words (it'd be more precise if she could count), or the smoking pot inbetween the houses with the 9 year old in the house. The kid must have been tired because I know the old man makes him cut the grass. I've seen it, I just got to get pictures.

Anyways, it's good to vent but I'd prefer they didn't live next to me.