David calls our next door neighbors, "Whisky Tango."
In other words, "White Trash."
It does not get much more stereotypical trashiness than these people.
Here is my cute little house:
But the latest bunch take the friggin' cake.
Each weekend, the young mom and one of her friends, along with one of the baby daddy's and his friend, drag their two dirty kids out to play in the front yard.
And this is what it looks like...
And it's often not picked up. All week long. Even when it rains. That pic with the stroller in it? Taken this past Saturday. Today is Thursday. It rained this morning. Stroller still there.
But it's not so much as how they choose to decorate, it's more how they let the entire block know that they are white trash. By yelling at one another, complete with every other word as an F bomb, in the front yard.
Here's what happened the other night...
Around 6pm, baby daddy comes to our front door. David answers it, and baby daddy proceeds to tell him that his "wife" is being difficult, and could he borrow David's phone...?
David let him. And the guy says this into the phone, "Yeah, this is Larry Pearson, checking in."
Hmmmm...parole officer? Bail bondsman? Doesn't matter, that conversation would only occur in one of those instances.
He thanked David and went home.
But then around 10:30 he's back at our front door. To tell us that the "wife" has kicked him out of the house and he's going to be sleeping in a tent. In our front yard.
Uh, no you are not, dude. So David tells him to keep it off our property. So baby daddy Larry puts it up on the side of the house. Which just happened to be right outside my bedroom window. You've got to be kidding me.
While he's on our front porch telling David his entire fight with the missus, another dude comes to support him and interject with his own account of the situation.
And then the shit storm begins.
White trash lady and her friend are yelling at the baby daddy and his friend--while they are still on my porch, so of course, they are yelling back--dropping F bombs everywhere, all while holding the youngest kid.
And the older kid? She's using both hands to flip off the baby daddy. She looks about 3.
It's at this time that David and I tell them all to get the hell off my porch and front lawn or we're calling the cops. I don't want to be associated with these people.
Baby daddy Larry then tells us, "Oh, they're already on their way. She called them on me, and I called them on her."
So about this time, two cop calls pull up. Right in front of my house, so it looks just great.
Things calm down, and I go to bed.
But remember how Baby Daddy Larry is sleeping in a tent? Yeah, he's pretty much right outside my window.
So around 12:30am, the shit storm starts again.
Only this time, he's yelling back at her from the tent. Right outside my bedroom window.
And it's at this point, that David realizes that I am about to go all ape shit on these people, so he goes outside and tells him to leave. There's more yelling between all the white trash people, and Baby Daddy Larry goes walking off down the street. Yelling at her as he goes, something about how she needs to just go be with her boyfriend, to which she responds, "Fine! I will! He's a better fuck than you anyhows!"
I spent a good deal of time on the phone the next day trying to find the owner of the house to attempt to contact him/her about these people. I'm not having it anymore. I'd rather live next door to constantly partying college kids. Not this real-life Cops episode.
I so hope they are long gone by the time we go to sell our house, as I'm sure each day they are around, my property value decreases by about 12%...