A Tart Rant

Tart is away for the Labor Day weekend and I wasn't sure I'd survive the long weekend without seeing any new ranting posts on her blog.... so, I'll just do one of my own. I hope she doesn't mind if I do it, and take her name in vain as well.

Why did I think moving into a house in a neighborhood of one-acre lots would be quieter than living in an apartment? Beats the hell out of me.

Actually it was pretty quiet until a neighbor behind us began to live his life outside. Sitting on our back patio is not unlike being in a loud bar with a crappy-ass cover band playing. The guy's yard alone is the biggest eyesore you can possibly imagine. He appears to have moved the entire contents of his house into his yard -- and I do mean everything. All the knick-knacks that people tend to accumulate over the years, plus some assorted furniture, are on proud display. And there's a couple of junked cars as well. I figure he's done about $200,000 in damage to neighboring property values. Who the fuck wants to live next to an obnoxious LOUD PIG?

He is learning to play drums. Yes... outside. He cranks the music up to play along -- everything from Aerosmith & Black Sabbath to Eminem. The fact that it might be 102 outside is no deterrent. (Factoid: it was 103 today.)

Lately, he seems to have teamed up with a guitar player. And sadly, it's not an acoustic set. What I wouldn't give for a spontaneous & extremely violent electrical storm.