Behind my lovely family above is the neighbor's house. I am currently at war with them. They have decided to store various concrete machinery and transportation vehicles (including a forklift) in their drive-way. Since they have about thirty people living there, there are few places for them to park and unfortunately I am unable to paint my curb a color that would visually indicate "For friends and family only, thank you, please park somewhere else, especially you with the 1972 motor home, because that is just wrong." So last week, after being out all day with my lovely sister (above) I parked in front of their house and casually strolled over to mine. Since they had the motor home and another car taking up my curb, I felt absolutely no shame.
They didn't much like my outburst of parking pride and retaliated by throwing a block party in their front yard, replete with loud music, copious alcohol consumption, raucous laughter, and entertainment in the form of a tiny dog running round a tiny cage. Ahhh...neighbors. They did, however, move the motor home (down the street, alongside someone else's house) and since that time they haven't parked one car in front of my house. Not one. So maybe my message was received.
Because surely they understand that my next step would be to install a sprinkler system powered by a small diesel engine and set to automatically deposit gallons of water on any car (and the person exiting the car) parking in front of my house without my consent (in the form of an electronically delivered code a la Stargate Iris Codes). I would install the system high enough so that it would deluge a vehicle as large as a bus (which I am fully expecting next, given that they seem to be duplicating like rabbits).
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