DAY OF THE DEAD 2011

Dear Crazy Neighbor,

You have often proven your instability by doing things like making quacking noises while alone in our complex pool, and playing the same Justin Bieber song over and over and over again at absurd volumes (so glad we share a townhouse wall) in the middle of the day or just after normal kids our childrens' ages would be going to bed. You're a grown man, listening to Justin Bieber. There is something very wrong with that.

The loud and equally strange fights you and your wife have are also keeping you high on my crazy list - but my family and I thank you for no longer having them at 2AM. Your decision to throw an assortment of frozen vegetables on the ground outside the drivers side of your car may have been a kind offering to the birds or perhaps one of your children dumped some lunch left overs (much to the horror of the guy who parks next to you on that side - he also thinks you're insane, by the way, and he's not exactly the picture of normal either!). You are the poster boy for Unstable.

Today, Fever Girl (day 4) and I were heading to the parking lot on the way to get lunch. When Fever Girl finally has an appetite, she can have whatever she wants and she wanted Chicken McNuggets. As we got to the car, we realized that you had added to the Halloween decorations that are still up in front of your house.

I get that it's Day of the Dead in Mexico. I get that several other cultures have similar celebrations around November 1st and 2nd. But you are as white as I am. And what you added, though cool Halloween decorations, are not especially Day of the Dead-ish. They are more 'added two days after Halloween because I am a total and complete nutter'-ish.

I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that perhaps you just got these on sale and are displaying them for your children to observe as they get home from school. Perhaps it's another demonstration to your wife that you are completely insane and should be back on your medication. Nah, I'm just going to continue to believe you are a full on nut job.

And you need a boot to the head.

BIKES AND BODIES AND BOOTS (TO THE HEAD)

We went out briefly tonight. But that's not really interesting.

The interesting bit happened on the drive home.

We were turning right, off a main street, to a side street when we noticed a body and a bike lying in the crosswalk of the main street.

We stopped the car. Wonko hopped out. I turned the car off and called 911, because, you know, body and a bike in the street!

I thought, momentarily, that it was odd that they were lying so straight, on their back, in the crosswalk. And why was the bike at his head? And why couldn't I see a face? Then I thought back to an event in my teen days where a friend of a friend had been drunk and passed out on a road and been hit by a car (he didn't die, but it didn't have an especially happy ending).

Two women were on the sidewalk, watching. I got out of the car to see better. Poor Weeb kept asking what was going on and I told her that we thought someone needed our help and I was calling 911.

As the 911 operator answered (very quickly, I might add; I've always been impressed with our 911 service), Wonko was walking back to me, then he turned and went back to the body and dragged what was now very clearly NOT a body, to the sidewalk.

I apologized to the 911 operator and explained that we thought someone was in the crosswalk, but it turned out to be a bike, and clothes stuffed with paper to look like a body. And it was covered in ketchup.

Yeah, you read that right.

The 911 operator explained he still had to transfer me to the police. Now I'm explaining to a police officer what had happened. He seemed confused as to why I was transfered from 911 if it was a prank. I explained the 911 operator said they had to transfer me. Then I suggested that they might want to send a car since Wonko had just dragged the stuff to the sidewalk and the A-Hole pranksters might just drag it back to the street.

When I say this was in the crosswalk, I'm saying if a car had been driving in that lane, it would have run over 'the body'. Or at least screeched to a halt trying to avoid it. And how would you feel on a nice Saturday night if you'd hit something with your car? I know I'd want to hurl.

I will say that another fellow was driving from the side street onto the main street when he saw our car stopped, doors open and Wonko pulling something off the road, and this guy got out of his car and offered to help. Hats off to you, dude!

And a big thumbs up to my brave little Weeb who kept her cool in the car!

So to the kind pranksters who covered my husband in ketchup, gave me a heart attack and freaked out my kid, BOOT TO THE HEAD.

DEAR RECYCLING PICK UP GUYS, PT 2

Dear Recycling Pick Up Guys,

Remember last week when I awarded you with a boot to the head for tossing our recycling bag into the truck along with the rest of our recyclables? Yeah, sorry about that.

It was our neighbor. Not the ones who get up at 4 in the morning and wake us up with their screeching pipes then their hundred year old car, but the ones on the other side with the kids who go up and down stairs like a pack of pachyderms, leave chewed gum right where I put my foot down when I get out of my car, and occasionally have seriously vicious fights regardless of hour or attendance of stair stompy offspring.

Yesterday I came home and they had all their recycling and garbage out (most people don't do it until later in the evening) and guess what was in front of our door.

Dude. Seriously? You took THREE bags and didn't notice the bright yellow one with the huge strip of duct tape on it? Then you didn't notice the enormous hissy I threw as you WATCHED us look for our bag and heard me stomp into my house and slam the door? Seriously?

Boot to the head.

DEAR RECYCLING PICK UP GUYS

Dear Recycling Pick Up Guys,

When we put out our blue recycling bin, you're supposed to throw the paper in the recycling bag into the paper recycling area of your truck before throwing in the rest of the stuff and LEAVING both the blue recycle bin AND the blue and/or yellow recycle bag/s.

Please stop throwing everything, including our recycling bag, into the truck at the same time.

We've been through DOZENS of recycling bags since we moved here. I know some are nabbed by idiot neighbors in our townhouse complex, but not today.

I do not have kind words to say about you people - idiot neighbors OR the idiot recycling pick up guys on our route. You have all earned a boot to the head.

HEY, RUDE LITTLE TWERP!

This is an open letter to the rule little twerp who keeps calling my cell phone:

Hey, you rude little twerp,

I can forgive you for having the wrong number once.

I can even forgive you for having the wrong number twice.

However I can NOT forgive you for hanging up on me during that second call and then doing the same thing the following day!

What's shocking is that you ASK for Mrs. Martin politely enough that I suspect that you are an adult (though maybe just barely), then you turn into a rude little teenage turd upon my polite explanation that you have the wrong number. Again.

Don't hang up on people who are in the middle of a sentence, you dipwad!

You're obviously not Canadian or you would have at least apologised before hanging up.

What is unfortunate for you is that I have your phone number.

I will exact my revenge in the name of Mrs. Martin.

Hang up on THAT, moron!

You win a boot to the head.