No Night Sweats N o  N i g h t  S w e a t s No Night Sweats
Sydney's Post-Punk Bands
I Like Music
Slapp Happy are Terrific
A List of CDs
Text is What I Write
Crime Fiction is Silly
[ Neighbours, Everybody Needs Good... ]

You all know what it's like with neighbours : Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em (unless your house is in the bush somewhere). In general, our neighbours are great - there's the gregarious older couple who've lived in the area for years, the young family who have no knowledge of gardening at all but who make up for the weeds by being extremely friendly, the old sea goat who looks and acts just like Popeye (and he's still working on those boats with sails at 75!!) and the young professionals who keep to themselves but have a passion for horse riding. After these, the other ones start looking a bit on the rough side. But the worst is our actual right-next-door neighbour. What a berk. He's lived there all the time that we've been down here and he is 1) a manic/depressive 2) a dork 3) an obnoxious arsehole 4) always, always right (he's got a degree, you see) 5) the worst gardener in the street 6) a total know-it-all 7) someone who will blaim us for any unfortunate occurrence that happens in the greater Illawarra area 8) (and most importantly) a dipshit who treats his animals with disdain. Ya see, his cat came over to our front yard yesterday afternoon (basically to scrounge for food that wasn't made by No Frills - we sometimes oblige). It's been a little sick in the past couple of weeks and, so he says, a vet saw it and fixed it up. Well, I noticed that there were these large globs of blood on the footpath and it was coming from the cat's ear. It'd shake itself and it would splatter everywhere. After I had a little chat about this subject he said - don't worry, we'll take it to the vet tomorrow. If he had gouts of blood dripping from his ear I bet he'd be off to the hospital sooner rather than later. But he was in his jam-jams, ya see, and he just couldn't be bothered to get changed. I'd have tried to get the cat to the vet anyway but it has a nasty habit of scratching me to near death whenever I try to pick it up. I'm so angry I could just spit in this guys face. If he comes back from the vet with a dead cat then I may just have to take matters further.

Yea, vengence shall be mine...

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