Neighborhood Trash

I took this last Saturday because I promised to show you how ridiculous my neighbor's stupid Jeep is.  Pink Shirt informed me that this is actually called  a buggy.  Whatever, neighbor.  Go drive around in dirt after you bought this and then declared bankruptcy and then attended your KKK Tea Party meeting and railed about how all them lazy coloreds are working the system.  (It is through my screen door because I was scared he would see me and shoot me.  Journalistic integrity, people.  I've got it in spades.) 

Notice the truck tires compared to the size of his tires.  Imagine having to nose your car in between this, and a gold, extended cab pickup truck with a gargoyle painted on the side of it, every day of your life.  The even-though-I'm-from-New-York-I-really-want-to-try-to-fit-in-with-all-of-the-rednecks-so-I-talk-with-a-fake-Southern-accent buggy is on its way to get a new paint job.  I guess he doesn't like to drive it on asphalt if he can help it.  Might ruin the treads. 

In other neighbor news, we are having trash wars again.  His new roommate, which is a hole (I'm aware of the typo) other story, put all kinds of rotting carcasses in MY trash can, which is easily distinguishable from his trash can because it is in my parking space, with MY address on it.  It is overflowing and full of flies.  It is so disgusting and there's no way I'm dragging that down to the curb.  So I'm going to just start putting all of my trash in his can.  I haven't yet decided if I'm willing to take it to the level of tampon applicators scattered all over his parking spot due to the "wind" knocking over his trash can after I leave for work.  (Cardboard applicators, of course.  Anyone who uses plastic applicators is a selfish jerk who should just endure the discomfort of using cardboard, knowing that the earth will be a better place for her efforts.)

And somehow my recycle bins went missing because I was hurrying from my job to my charity work, and didn't have time to take them in on Monday.  I don't think this is the work of my next door neighbor, because his bins are full of pillows (??), and he thinks recycling is for homos and communists.  I think I'm now going to have to go take a picture of all this. 

None of this is my trash!  Who buys boxes of meat?  What is so hard about putting the pillow in your own trash can?  And before you get judgmental with me, I don't have a lid because it was attached to my can and he ran it over repeatedly and it ripped off and doesn't fit anymore.  So don't think I'm the kind of person who leaves their trash out in the open.  And now that the lid doesn't fit, I'm too scared to put it in my shed b/c I don't want to open my shed door and be attacked by rats that have taken over due to the open trash can.

In the meantime, I should start recycling the way everyone else in my neighborhood does, and just throw my empty beer bottles on the front lawn.  Also, I really hope there is no way for my neighbor to trace the internet signal that I poach from him back to my blog.  And I wish I could take the time to draw on the Jeep picture so I could point out that I have white trash plastic blinds, literal white trash on my front lawn, and live across from a house with a boarded up window that has been there since the '05 hurricanes.