So, remember when you were a kid, and your parents would tell you to mind your manners, remember to say please and thank-you, say hello to people, be polite, keep your hands to yourself, and there’s no use crying over spilt milk?
Remember those old sayings?
Because it seems nobody else does.
I’m SO –sick and tired- and the spoiled little hellspawn that inhabits the earth these days and are left unchecked to grow up into rude, uncouth fuck-ups that blame everyone else for their problems. I’m so sick of the stupidity in the adults that let these brats go and do their own thing, and I’m so INCREDIBLY sick of being thought of as a bitch for not tolerating the ignorance and sheer idiocy of the society that deems those little monsters perfect and fine.
I look after children occasionally for my neighbours, which is fine; they ask me a few weeks in advance, I generally say yes. It’s only a few hours, and they pay me. They’re polite people, or at least they are to my face when other people are around.
However, these people are in fact TOTAL BRUTES. They don't clean their house, rarely do laundry, never clean their cat's tiny litterbox out, I never see them walk their BERNESE MOUNTAIN DOG who is rude and untrained, and the stay at home mother who does nothing but sit on her fat-ass all day and occasionally pop out another spawn has three maids running around the house doing all the basic housework for her. GET UP, YOU LAZY SHIT. They don’t discipline their children, they let them run around, and whenever it comes time to pay me, they always say they don’t have exact change “We’ll give you the twenty next time.” I’m used to it, and for whatever reason, I keep helping them out. Why? I’m a good person, or at least like to think I am. For whatever reason, they don’t let their children on their own front lawn; the kids play in the backyard. Whatever; maybe they put seeds down every time I see them screaming all manner of hell to their little hysterically laughing and/or sobbing brats who go ahead and play where they were told not to anyway the moment their parents have turned their back.
Yet for –some- reason, it’s perfectly fine to let their three terrors take their dirt bikes on MY lawn, through my GARDEN which I just put a shit load of money into making it look nice, and when I go outside and ask them to not play on my lawn, I get the nastiest look in return and am told (in a manner of words) to fuck off. However, after calling animal control on them to do an animal cruelty check, they smartened up and gave me all the money they owed, which I had to put down for re-building my garden.
My other neighbours, who have been pissing us off since we first moved into my home here some fourteen, fifteen years ago, have never been couth. Recently, one of their children got hit by a car, and I am NOT surprised. When I found out, I snorted instead of out-right laughed, and I was consequentially lectured on sympathy by a person who lives on my street and has only ever once spoken to me before the car accident.
Why should I feel sympathetic to these idiots? I’m shocked and frankly appalled those kids are still alive. Nature should have drowned them out of the gene pool ages ago. They go into our backyard all the time and play, ruining the fence they grapple over to get to my luscious grass (which has been ruined because they set up their stupid little slip and slide toy thing on it when we’re not home and leave it there then have the GAUL to ask we bring it back to them folded up and dry). They tromp in the backyard garden which my sister works so hard to maintain, they approached us in person and demanded we cut down our rose bushes in the backyard because when the kids hoped the fence, which we’ve asked they not do, they keep getting caught and scratched in the thorns (regardless that the rose bushes are by the house wall and nowhere near the fence), and they bike on our yard and set up their skateboard ramps there, not to mention they always park in front of our house instead of in their own driveway; that’s fucking annoying, because people who drive to visit us have to park a block down. I wouldn’t care if they did that every now and then, but every god damn time? Fuck you.
SO, yeah, the kid got hit by a car, and I don’t see why they didn’t see it coming; in winter, they build these huge snowramps on my yard that they sled and slide off of onto the road, and in summer they burry these huge ramps on my yard that they skateboard, rollerskate, and bike off of. Onto the road. Where the cars can’t see them because of their six-foot high bushes and have to break with less than a coin’s breadth of room before they hit the kids. The parents are known for stopping cars by their house and chewing out the drivers for being so irresponsible.
They’re SURPRISED their brat got hit by a car?!
Squealing breaks and tire marks are very common in front of my house. Not theirs; they’re parents don’t let them ruin the yard by digging huge holes and putting ugly ramps in the ground. I take the ramps out, and without fail, the kids knock on my door asking why I did that. I threw a ramp out last year, and the dad came over to yell at me for destroying his property.
“It’s on mine, without my consent, and was left there for two nights. Why was your property on mine?”
”Because the kids put it there.”
”I told them to take it away, numerous times or else I’d trash it. They acknowledged that.”
”You’re going to pay for a new one.”
”No.”
These people have phoned the cops on us a few times for things, and not once have any charges been laid. Why? Because the law is on my side.
Recently, they tipped over our BRAND NEW BBQ playing soccer in my backyard, and the thing is now busted. They cracked the propane tank, knocked the lid off and ruined the hinges so it can’t simply be screwed back on, and bent two of the legs so it won’t stand up anymore.
This BBQ was literally less than a month old. Tis the reason I’m ranting right now; I just came back from going over to their house. I knocked on the door, and the mother opened it. She seemed really pissed, and I figured “Oh, her kids grew spines and told her what happened.” They told her alright; and now she’s demanding my family pays for the medication her darling little son has to take because he got scratched when he ran into the BBQ and is gunna get rust poisoning.
Excuse me? It’s brand new, he’s not going to get any type of poisoning, we’ve done everything possible to make sure the backyard isn’t a lure for stupid children, including telling both the parents and the brats it’s unacceptable to come into the yard without permission (which we’d never consent to). Then, to top it all off, she tells me to get off her yard. I turn to leave, and she
pushes me down her steps. Luckily, I managed to keep my balance until I got to the bottom one, where I only scraped my ankle and knee when I landed on my leg. I‘ve taken digital photos of the damage, which luckily isn't anything impeding. That could have been bad; those steps are concrete and I was not prepared at all for it. I had half a mind to turn around and wallop her across the face, yet I contained myself. I was poised, I was graceful, and my god I'm so proud of myself, I didn't even smirk at her as I brushed myself off.
We’ve written them, knocked on their door, and phoned them before asking them to please stay off our property so many times in the past, we have shoe-boxes full of the letter copies alone, plus the phone bills to prove how many times we’ve called them.
It’s not only us, either; my neighbours (who I’ll call F for friends) on the other side of the house, who are on GREAT terms with us (the youngest is my age and we’ve been friends for ages, the oldest is my sister’s age and they’ve been friends for ages, the dad helps us repairing the house, the mother and my mother were childhood friends), have told these people and their children on numerous occasions via phone and letter that they must keep their children out of the garage and attic, for there are heavy machines and tools there that are potentially hazardous to people who don’t know how to use them. The dad loves to build and restore things; he’s restored two Sherman tanks in his day, a WW2 jeep, a Beetle Bug (punch buggy car), he’s built his own Beaver style airplane, and he pulled up a sunken house boat from his lake and restored it. He obviously uses tools. One day, he came home to find his garage had been broken into; someone had taken a shovel and hacked the lock off the garage door. Guess which bastards he found playing in his garage, having a sword fight with saws?
Yeah.
My mother’s on the phone, the mother from the F family just left, and although we’re nice, tolerant people, we’re going to get mean about this. The cops had better get here quick.
What the hell happened to CLASS?
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SO, on a side note, my sister's out of the hospital after her lungs developed blood clotts, her right pulminary artery collapsed, and she developed Pluracey. She's much better now, no thanks for St Joseph's hospital in Toronto, where they sent her home a few days ago because they had no beds yet they rushed a pregnant mother who was giggling over a fucking HomeMaker magazine and moping about *gasp* back pains right through emergency as my sister sat there drooling blood and barebly able to breath for eight hours. We had her transfered to a different hospital, where they actually helped instead of repeatedly asking her her story when the damn chart was right there and she's only ever gone to St Joe's. One of the nurse's told her she was, and I quote "...being a big baby with a sore tummy."
We're not going back to St Joe's unless someone drops down right in front of it. Even then, I think I'd prefer a subway trip somewhere else.
Because the wonderful
gave me a free sketch, I get to give ten free sketches. I’ll post them in my Scraps section, so keep an eye on it if you’re expecting a sketch. Let me know when you’ve seen it, too! ^^
Don’t forget to offer the same if you request a sketch from me. And please; don’t note me when my journal is right here. That’s just…weird. O.o
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’s red doggy
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Team Fortress 2
