idiotprufs

Illegal in 38 states–frowned upon in the rest.

Archive for the tag “bad neighbor”

Glenwood Residents Concerned Common People Will Rent Neighborhood House

Another post from Gooferie.

gooferie

Gladys_KravitzMembers of the Glenwood Association are expressing concern that a house in their neighborhood is being rented out to people who can’t afford to buy a house there.

“This is very unsettling,” said Glenwood resident Ron Cokun, “You should see some of the cars these renters are driving. Not one Mercedes or BMW – and some of the cars are over three years old!”

Peeking out her window as a car pulled into the driveway of the house in question, neighborhood resident Paula McMorris said, “You can tell by just looking at their hands that these people do manual labor for a living. My parents didn’t give me every advantage in life so I could live in a neighborhood with people like that!”

Board member Tom C. Baldt agreed, “There are other parts of the city where these renters would feel more comfortable, being around their own kind. Why can’t…

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Hammock Time–U Can’t Touch This

hammock spring

What could go wrong here?

The signs of spring are all around you:

  • The sound of your neighbor cursing bitterly as he scrapes the ice from his car transitions to the sound of your neighbor cursing bitterly as he scrapes the bird crap from his car.
  • The neighbor gets out his mooning garden gnome that will soon be facing your kitchen window.
  • You get out your shovel that will soon be smashing a mooning garden gnome…allegedly.
  • The final remnants of where Gerald the neighbor kid wrote insults to you in the snow with his pee, have melted away. (Gerald’s impressive vocabulary is surpassed only by his apparent bladder size.)
  • You look into the purchase of an electrified fence just powerful enough to repel a small child.
  • You dig out your hammock and prepare to hang it up.

Ah yes, that sweet summertime relaxation that is your hammock.

Every year you gleefully hang your hammock as you sing a song you’ve named Hammock Time. It’s a song that you’ve cleverly invented specifically for the annual occasion.

Note: Hammock Time is just U Can’t Touch This with the lyrics ‘hammer time’ replaced with the lyrics ‘hammock time.’ But you’re proud of it regardless.

Hammock placement is vital to reap the full supine benefits of the hammock experience. You had the perfect spot for your hammock until those butchers at Penelec decided no tree, branch, hedge, or growing life of any type should come within a thousand feet of their precious wires.

tree maintenance

Just a few examples of Penelec butchery.
(Image source: gooferie)

When choosing the proper location for your hammock, there are many factors to be taken into consideration:

  • You want an area with a nice breeze.
  • You want an area with shade.
  • You need to be certain there isn’t a bird’s nest directly above you. You don’t want bird crap smacking you in the face when you’re trying to relax. You really don’t want bird crap smacking you in the face in general; it’s a simple issue of sanitation.
  • Don’t put your hammock near a hornet’s nest; hornets are ill-tempered and have a twisted sense of boundary.
  • Don’t put your hammock over a pit of vipers. If you drop something in that pit–that’s where it’s staying.
  • If you can at all avoid it, don’t put your hammock on the edge of an active volcano. It only takes one pyroclastic flow to ruin your day.
  • You need a spot that assures a modicum of privacy if you like to relax in the nude. (Just another reason to avoid hornet’s nests when placing your hammock.)
  • You don’t want to place your hammock directly above another person’s hammock if your hammock isn’t properly secured and could potentially come crashing down on the person below you. (I’m looking at you, Lance.)
  • Despite the many valuable life lessons I’m certain you learned from Gilligan’s Island, the placement of your hammock between two coconut trees is not one of those lessons. Coconut trees have coconuts. Coconuts + gravity + your face = eating through a straw.
  • Don’t put your hammock anywhere Gerald the neighbor kid can reach you. If you have to dig a moat and fill it with piranha, do it.

If you’re anything like me, you are going to enjoy a summer filled with sweet Hammock Time.

Final note: If you are anything like me, you need to change everything about yourself immediately.

idiotprufs mooning gnome

If you find this little fella facing your hammock–then it’s really hammer time.

Mooning Garden Gnomes and Other Signs of Summer

This will not be tolerated. (image source: kaboodle.com)

This will not be tolerated.

 

Memorial Day has passed, and the signs of burgeoning summer are all around you.

The temperature has warmed. Flowers are blooming. The trees are again full of leaves and birds. Birds that seem to have crap that is magnetically attracted to your car. And your neighbor has once again placed a mooning garden gnome facing your kitchen window.

Your neighbor has named the garden gnome Willard #5.

The first Willard met an untimely demise at the hands of some maniac with a shovel.

Willard #2 was also smashed with a shovel.

Willard #3 was backed over with a car and smashed with a shovel.

Willard #4 was hit with a brick, peed on, and smashed with a shovel.

You swear to your neighbor and the local authorities, that you had nothing to do with the Willards’ deaths, and under no circumstance would you contemplate attacking Willard #5 with a shovel.

You purchase a sledge hammer.

Your other neighbor has planted his annual garden. In the coming months, he will regale you with baskets of fresh vegetables and tales of his horticultural prowess. He will explain to you that his garden has produced so overwhelmingly, that his own family couldn’t possibly consume all the bounty themselves. He will bring jars of homemade pickles and relish. “Everyone in the world loves homemade pickles and relish, especially the way my wife makes them,” he will tell you.

Stupid neighbor.

You decide to plant a little garden in the corner of your yard. You want fresh tomatoes, zucchini, squash, maybe a few cukes. You have no idea what cukes are, but it’s fun to say so want them. You can imagine the bounty that will cover your dinner table, and the praise you are certain to receive from guests, satiated by the efforts of your labor and toiling. You have high hopes.

Unfortunately you run face first into one tiny problem: you don’t have a green thumb. In fact, the color more closely associated with your digits and your gardening skill, is black festering death.

You’ve purchase all of the books:

  • The Beginner’s Guide To Growing A Garden.
  • The Idiot’s Guide To Growing A Garden
  • The Beginner-Idiot’s Guide To Growing a Garden.
  • Grow A Garden Even If You’re A Chimp, (and Not Even One of Those Clever Chimps That Can Do Sign Language).
  • The Guide To Growing A Garden if You’re Basically Dumb Box of Rocks.
  • Does Your Presence Destroy Life? This is the Gardening Book For You.
  • The Giant Catalog Of Plastic Plants.

Those books are now deposited in a bin labeled: things to be shred, burned and buried in a deep hole.

Note: you purchased a few plastic plants, they inexplicably turned brown and fell apart. You choose to ignore the metaphysical ramifications that you were able to kill plastic.

You are now known as the “Grim Reaper” at every nursery and ag center in the area.

Undaunted, you redouble your efforts.

You read that Native Americans placed a dead fish with the kernel when they planted corn. You consider raiding the family fish tank, but don’t want to go through that drama again. Seriously, who gets that attached to fish?

Modifying slightly, you put a fish stick in the ground with every seed you plant. It doesn’t seem to help. You write a nasty letter to Mrs. Paul’s frozen seafood company, making wild accusations about artificial ingredients.

Mrs. Paul, who lives down the street from you accidentally receives the letter. Icy stares ensue.

Stupid Post Office.

Your neighbor comments on how sickly your cukes look, but the weeds are growing robustly.

You try come up with a clever retort, but you’re not clever.

“You’re a cuke,” you finally yell…five minutes after he’s left.

At last you have some success, only to discover that fresh vegetables are enjoyed by several of nature’s pests: bugs, worms, mice, gophers, and Gerald the neighbor kid.

You also discover that Gerald likes to pee on things. You purchase a taser. But you won’t use it on Gerald–the local authorities have confiscated it.

Stupid local authorities.

Finally, you discover the answer to all your problems; it’s called the farmers market.

Your dinner table now abounds with natures bounty, the fruits of hard labor and toiling, just not yours.

kanye west

This is a cook.

Sorry, that’s not right. Mostly.

These are cukes. I've always had trouble with homonyms.

These are cukes. I’ve always had trouble with homonyms.

Spring 2015: More Mooning Garden Gnomes.

 

idiotprufs, prickly weed

The prickly weed; a very under appreciated weed.

The signs of spring are all around you:

  • The temperature has warmed.
  • The sound of birds chirping in the morning has replaced the sound of snow blowers and the guy across the street complaining bitterly as he scrapes the ice from his car.
  • And the sound of his cursing as another ice-scraper breaks off in his hand and he yells, “that’s it, I’m leaving this God forsaken weather and I’m going to Texas,” as shakes his fist at the sky.
  • Soon to replaced by his cursing as he scrapes bird crap from his windshield as he shakes his fist at the sky.
  • The final remnants of where Gerald the neighbor kid, wrote insults to you in the snow with his pee, are finally melting away. That kid has a vivid imagination and a huge bladder.
  • Your neighbor will begin work on his annual garden. In the coming months, he will regale you with baskets of fresh vegetables. He will explain to you that his garden has produced so overwhelmingly, that his own family couldn’t possibly consume all the bounty themselves. Smug Jerk.
  • Your other neighbor has once again placed a mooning garden gnome, Willard #6, facing your kitchen window.

A quick recap of the history of the Willards

  • Willard met an untimely demise at the hands of a maniac with a shovel.
  • Willard #2 was also smashed with a shovel.
  • Willard #3 was backed over by a car and smashed with a shovel.
  • Willard #4 was hit with a brick, peed on, and smashed with a shovel.
  • Upon swearing to your neighbor and the local authorities, that you had nothing to do with the dispatching of the previous Willards, and under no circumstance would you attack an innocent garden gnome with a shovel, Willard #5 took his proper place facing your kitchen window.
  • Willard #5 was smashed with a hammer.
  • Willard #6 now stands proudly baring his buttocks toward your kitchen window. He is protected by flood lights and a security camera…for now.

You begin to make preparations for Spring yourself:

  • You drain and fill in the moat you dug the previous Spring. Gerald the neighbor kid, took swimming lessons over the Winter, and the cold weather killed all the piranha anyway.
  • You plant a vegetable garden of your own, regardless of the fact that your touch seems to destroy life.
  • You take down the sign that some smart aleck placed by your garden that read: Potter’s Field.
  • The local nursery places a picture of you on the their wall labeled: The Grim Reaper.
  • Gerald the neighbor kid mockingly asks you what kind of plants you plan to kill this year.
  • You look into the purchase of an electrified fence.
  • Your gardening neighbor assures you he’ll have plenty of extra vegetables to give you, after your garden has shriveled up and blown away like blades of grass in the Sahara Desert. “I’ll give you some tomatoes, zucchini, squash, maybe even a few cukes,” he tells you.
  • You try to think of a clever response, but you’re not clever.
  • “You’re a cuke,” you finally yell, long after your neighbor has left.
  • You focus on growing the only things that seem to flourish under your care: weeds.
  • Your plot of weeds thrives, especially the prickly weeds.
  • Your home is raided by the DEA after they receive an anonymous tip about you “growing weed.” They find nothing illegal, but your precious weeds are trampled.
  • You buy a rifle. You know who the anonymous tipster was, and it’s time for Willard #6 to pay.

Note: oddly, Sea-Monkeys also do well under your care.

 

idiotprufs mooning gnome

This is practically a bullseye.

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