I love my house. I love where I live. And I love most of my neighbors. “Most” doesn’t include my north side neighbor. Endless nights have been wasted clenching onto the covers and grinding my teeth in frustration over the shrieking and screaming and hootin’ and hollerin’ that happens right outside my bedroom window.
Cops make regular visits to the house, usually around 2:00 in the morning, for everything from disturbing the peace to lynching to pursuit from fleeing from a routine traffic stop. (That one was interesting, to say the least, and my nose was firmly pressed against the window as my drunken neighbor drove the car up the driveway, over the driveway, into the tree, jumped out of the damaged car and through the back neighbor’s yard before cops showed up searching for Her in bushes throughout the neighborhood all night.)
We never have one cop car show up. No, no. They swarm like mosquitoes, arriving in masses of six or eight or twelve. The street lights up like Broadway or a Las Vegas-style landing strip, blue lights bouncing off the surrounding houses making innocent bystanders and rubberneckers, such as myself, look like zombies on our front porches.
Last night, no wait…this morning I woke up at 2:00, 3:00, 3:30, 4:00, 4:55, and finally lay stewing until 6:00. All because She, this inebriated, fully inked, thousand-year-smoker sounding, belligerent next-door neighbor, was up having a party with two other people right outside my bedroom window. Ugh.
I’m a pretty peaceful person. I’m not passive by any means. I just try to be peaceful and understanding. So when this began in the wee hours of the morning, I tried to shrug it off as a byproduct of everyone having their windows open in such beautiful weather. But it continued. I should’ve called the cops but didn’t because all they can do is tell her to shut up and as they turn off their blue lights and pull away, She’d expel a guttural/raspy satanic laugh, reach for another crack pipe and continue on.
But now I’m pissed. I’m one of those people who firmly believe that eight hours of sleep is the key to a long and happy life. She just cost me four years and 100 smiles.
So I’m looking into drilling for oil on the north side of my property. I’m going to install an oil rig right at the edge of the property. Then at 7:00AM, when She has since passed out from a long night of brain cell killing activities, I’m gonna crank that baby up and Bang, Bang, Bang. Over and over and over. Think that’ll work?
If not, the alternative is to pour a ten by ten by ten cube of concrete on that side of the house, rent a jackhammer and begin breaking the chunk into dust every day at the break of dawn. Hey, it could be a great workout!
I could always start obstacle training my dogs with the use of a bull horn, too.
I have more ideas…I contemplated using a voodoo doll but the hours it would take to draw all the tattoos on the doll void this plan. I need instant gratification. I once read in an old Louisiana superstition book that if you kill a black cat, stuff it with lemons then throw it over the offending neighbor’s house the process of Her untimely death would begin. But the problems with this plan are (1) I’m not going to kill a cat, much less stuff it with lemons, (2) I’m not interested in the woman dying, She’ll die someday, right now I just want Her to leave, and (3) I throw like a girl. Knowing me I’d attempt to throw the desecrated animal, wind would catch it and it’d blow over my house instead. Nope, not a good idea.
I’m kinda diggin’ the oil rig idea right now. And, hey, maybe I might make a buck out of it!
note to self 
I feel your pain. i too have an a- hole neighbor. He asked us to pay for half of his plumbing problem. After all, it isn’t our fault some dumbass was flushing diapers down the toilet. We told him not so polietly, No. His little, yappy dogs charge the fence when they see my dogs in their yard, forcing my dogs to defend their territory. And he began pressure washing his porch at 6:50 in the AM. NOT HAPPY!