Why I love my neighborhood

Oh yeah, LOVE my neighborhood

One neighbor parks his "extra" vehicles (the company bucket truck... his son's pickup... the people who go fishing with him) in front of our house (so the icky oil won't drip in front of HIS house, and so HIS driveway (complete with those attractive orange cones that keep people where they belong) and his curbs won't get tire tracks on them. He turns his holiday lights on only when the housing area people are liable to be around to give out the cherished 25 dollar gift certificates.

The family (12 people at least in the house) let their RAT dog (nasty little chihuahuas) run the neighborhood and poop in everyone's yard and rip holes in the blow up decorations.

Across the road they won't say hi to anyone but my husband

The "new" people won't decorate or wave or acknowledge that they don't live alone in the world...

and the Hispanic family at the end of the street plays their music at FULL BLAST all night and double parks on both sides of the street so no one can drive down the street.

Woohoo, love this neighborhood and my neighbors...