He’s not really that bad. Just a pain in the ass. He has this inability to sit still and he’s always doing something. Lately it’s been playing with his custom built motorcycles. They’re very, very loud. They’re all fancy too, like the ones they make on that show with the father and son who fight all the time.
His hyperactivity should be regulated…like megadoses of Ritalin regulated. He always seems bored...so he’s taken to cleaning up the woods across the street from my house. Which is great. Good for you. It looks lovely.
There is one problem I have with this…the location of his mulch delivery. Like I said, I love what he's doing with the woods…looks great. But the one thing I do not need is a late night obstacle course in the middle of the fucking street. Why must I come around the corner at 2am and barely miss driving through a heaping pile of this shit. I safely managed to navigate home from my previous whereabouts (which may or may not have been a bar and I may or may not have partaken in some drinking) and I’m two houses away from my fucking driveway and…SURPRISE. A giant pile of mulch.
I didn’t hit it, thankfully my reflexes were still sharp…but come on. He couldn’t have had it dumped in the woods. It’s going in there anyway.
Not fucking cool.
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