My asshole neighbors

We live in a very cool part of Burbank, California where most residents are very active and friendly. Except our neighbors. Here is the lowdown on the strange, macabre, gross, stupid and outright fucking wrong.

Across the street is the LA County cop. He is a fucking asshole - why? Maybe he was held too much as a child. Maybe he wasn't held enough. Maybe he had a special uncle, who knows. But he is a 50 something, behemoth fucker with a bad attitude and a "punchdummy" that appears to be looking at us all the time in his front yard.

If you aren't familiar with Burbank, they sweep the streets EVERY week. Tuesday it is the west side of the street, Wednesday it is the east side. So no parking is allowed on the allotted sides of the street between 10am and noon on sweep days. The cocksucker cop is a car hoarder. In front of each house there is room for two cars and this piece of shit parks dead center - leaving room for only his car.

Then there is his wife, or what is now his ex-wife. She is the gossip queen of not only our street, but the whole fucking city of Burbank. She will fuck pretty much anything that moves and swears that the Animal Control staff trade her out "favors" when her dog gets out of line. The bitch works construction and is also 50 something - I'm going to go ahead and guess the Animal Control staff would rather mount their inmates in the back of their stupid vans twice before they would consider putting any part of their body inside of her.

The ex-wife is now gone from the house across the street, and that is kind of a drag because those two had some of the greatest fighting matches EVER. In fact, my wife and I have put chairs on our porch for the expressed intention of having a place to sit and watch the mayhem. The fights they would have usually started in the house and escalated outside to the middle of the street. On a really good day one of the two of them would pull up (in one of their plethora of fucking cars) and the other would run out to their car and begin yelling at the other inside, through a closed window. It was fucking classic! We have actually been late for events because of their altercations - EPIC.

The same neighbor, when they were married had a lemon tree on the strip of land between the sidewalk and the curb. I was told by the wife way back when we moved in I could help myself to them because most go to waste on the ground (they also have a lemon tree inside their stupid white fucking picket fence). So one Friday night a few months back, I'm making my famous lemon chicken soup and run out of lemons. It's like 1am and all is quiet in the neighborhood. So I go to the bush and help myself. Out of nowhere, their dumbass 20 something kid comes home in his Scion (I fucking hate those cars, especially his) and just like his daddy parks dead center in the thoroughfare.

At this point the dude has seen me and my plastic bag, and me picking lemons from the shrub. Here's how that conversation went:

Dude: What the fuck are you doing, man?

Me: I lost my kitchen table and thought it might be in this here lemon tree.

Dude: What?

Me: I'm picking lemons.

Dude: It's like 1 in the morning.

Me: Oh shit, am I being too loud for you? Did I wake you up?

Dude: No man, I just got home.

This cat obviously has a flair for the obvious.

Me: I'll be done in a minute. (I go back to picking my lemons)

Dude walks into their stupid white picket fence yard, and then turns to talk to me some more. By this time I am street side grabbing the low hanging fruit, so I can't see him, only hear him.

Dude: I'm going to tell my Dad.

Me: You are going to tell your dad what?

Dude: That you are stealing our lemons.

Me: Isn't your dad a fucking cop of some kind?

Dude: Yeah.

Me: Well do me a solid and tell him to quit taking up all the parking space in front of my fucking house.

And with that the stupid ass kid went inside the house. Now his daddy lived in the garage because step-mommy kicked his stupid ass out of the bedroom before we moved in to our house.

I filled my bag with lemons and walked back across the street to finish my soup.

I heard nothing from any of the crazy residents of the house personally, until the next day. And then it was on, the fight about the lemon tree I had picked my lemons from. The husband and wife were out in the street calling each other names I won't even use (starts with a c, and rhymes with runt).

After 5 minutes or so of blissful watching, the soon to be ex-wife told him to fuck off and left. Still nobody came to say a fucking word to me.

The following Tuesday, that asshole, cocksucker cop had the tree cut down. What a dick!!!!! No wonder his wife left his stupid ass!!!!

The soup however, came out better than ever. It is said food is better when cooked with love, I think food is better when cooked with ignorant, pointless mental beratings (from my neighbors).

Tomorrow, the Sleestack who lives next door.