That's what Zac and I are. For reals. We really need to be writing comic books, novels, or screenplays. Seriously, we have an in depth theory on all of our neighbors. The scary thing is, we are right most of the time. Not all the time though. We thought our neighbors across the street were drug smugglers due to the fact that people came and went non stop at all hours of the day and night but it just turned out that she runs a drop in day care 24 hours a day.
We have been this way since we met. We thought our upstairs neighbors at the Island of Serenity were crazy whacked out psycho alcoholic lesbians and we were right on the money. They argued night and day. Loudly. They were cool as hell when they were normal but most of the time they were total nutjobs. And more entertaining than daytime television.
Then when we moved to our current location the fattest man I have ever seen with my own eyes lived upstairs. They had moved from far away so that his wife could attend Medical School. Someone was crying all the time. We thought it was her because he seemed like a total asswad. And the acoustics in this place are all kinds of fucked up so everytime I was in what was then the computer room I could hear loud sobbing. Like twice a day. So we had all these wild fantasies about him not letting her call her parents or that he was keeping her hostage when she wasn't at school or things of that nature. But then we found out it was HIM that was crying. That made it even better. WAY better. They never talked to us, ever. And I am the kind of person who says hi to everyone. Including my weirdo autistic mailman who has never ONCE replied to me. How weird is that? Anyway, one day Crying Man locked himself out of the building and Zac and my brother had to MacGuyver their way upstairs to let him in. Turns out he was in fact kind of a psycho. Finally they left. I did enjoy the fact that the mailman always left his Big and Large catalogs out in the open for everyone to see. Fucking rude of him but funny. I didn't know they made 6XL.
Then there is the house kitty corner to us. I think they might have moved. They have a hot tub out back, a big one. There was always a party going on over there. Non stop. Early in the evening on Friday until Sunday night. Tons of people. Every weekend. We totally think that they were swinger orgy sex party people. They had giant privacy fences so I don't think we were wrong about them. Gross, I never would have bought that house. Think of all the spooge in every random location.
We also have Angry Asian Man living across the street from us. He gets all wound up during Packer games, gets super drunk. and yells racial slurs from his front porch. Including the word you never ever say. In a primarily black neighborhood. That's a good one to sit out front and watch unfold. What is also entertaining about him is the way that he mows his lawn. I don't think he ever has before he bought the house. Like there is no rhyme or reason to it. Diagonally, up the hill, across the hill, in a circle, whatever. He probably weighs 100 pounds soaking wet and his lawn mower probably weighs 80. It's old school. God we are total assholes. This year I noticed he left the job up to his wife. She does in fact grasp the concept of mowing.
We are weirdo neighbor magnets. Our current theories are fun. There is a house up the street that features a parade of various women letting a giant dog out to pee. Zac has decided that is "Lesbian Party House." There is a guy in a white car that comes to our building bringing a sealed box and what appears to be a jug of moonshine and we think that he is our creepy neighbor's NAMBLA buddy. We also think that the people in the next building over are connected somehow to the Russian Mafia. Don't even get me started on the building on the other side of us. I don't know what kind of transient weirdos live there. If there wasn't a six foot privacy fence I would have many more theories. I wonder if car thieves live there. It seems like every now and again a car comes tearing in there super fast with the law right on their ass. This neighborhood is much better than it used to be but I'm not stupid. Time to bring the dog in at that point. Not stretch your head to see over the fence as Zac is prone to do. I've seen cops crouching behind their cars with their guns drawn enough to know that.
I could go on and on.
Oh, everyone in our neighborhood is referred to by their nicknames we have given them as well. Such as Running Man and Beagleman. Not Beagle MAN, Beagleman. Not very creative. We used up all of our creativity dreaming up what our neighbors are doing in their spare time.
I guess maybe be thankful you don't live in our neighborhood.
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