I really do. There's just about thirty seven too many strange people with varying degrees of "annoying floon" mixed into their personalities around here and that's about thirty eight too many.
That's why I was so thrilled to see on of the worst of them in the midst of a very serious looking conversation with a Realtor recently discussing a list of Orange County homes for sale. If he were to actually follow through on that, I'd be free of one of THE most annoying neighbors ever to knock on my door at 3:30 am to borrow a cup of sugar.
While I'm hopeful, at least a little bit, I wont allow myself to get serious about it until I see furniture and belongings being loaded into a truck. All I can say it "Lord Let it be soon!"
Banging on the door at 5:30AM. Normally such a thing would surely mean an emergency of some kind. After all, it's a really nasty hour to be waking people up. So I drag myself out of a sound sleep, quickly throw something on and head for the door wondering what the problem was.
As soon as I looked through the little window in the door and saw who was outside I was tempted to stop and go back to sleep. The only reason that I didn't is because he'd have kept pounding on the door until he got an answer.
I knew I wasn't going to like this one bit and when he explained what the problem was I was right. I didn't like it. I mean, I get it that this guy has THE worst sense of direction on the planet. I've known for a long time that he can't find his backside with a gps, both hands and a flashlight. Ok, maybe he can find that, but that's about all. He's been known to get lost walking around the block where he's lived for 27 years.
What did he want? He had an Dr. appointment and was all in a panic because he couldn't find the map I printed out for him last time and just HAD to have a new copy made up right then and there.
Fortunately I had saved a copy just in case because along with his sense of direction, he's pretty good at putting something in a place where it won't get lost and then managing to lose it anyway. I printed it out for him and sent him on his way.
However I'm still thinking of putting in some kind of padded door so that he can pound on it all he wants without waking me up.
Y'know how there's many different sides to a person? Well, it occurred to me today that it'd be an interesting (though probably entirely unlikely) way to save money on insurance.
Don't believe me? Think about it. If the parts of your personality that were the most likely to have problems were the only ones that needed to be covered, and you could get that kind of "split personality coverage", it'd sure give a new perspective on the need for whole life insurance now wouldn't it?
If you could, for example, take out a policy for the nastier part of you without having to cover the nicer, more sensible parts of you, doesn't it stand to reason that you ought to be able to save money if you could show that the part being covered is hardly ever allowed to run things?
Of course, when that part DOES run things.... Look Out!
I admit that I write a lot about the various nutjobs that live in my area but how can I help it when there are so many of them and they're all absolutely mad as hatters? And while about three quarters of them couldn't tell a web browser from a shopping cart if their lives depended on it, I do anonymize the stories enough to maintain their privacy.
And now for the story of nutjob #4396841. This young chap moved to this area within the last year or so and from what I've heard, he's been (mostly) normal enough. Although I have yet to hear any explanation for the two foot tall rubber dog poop that was found on his front lawn last summer.
Recently however I've heard what amounts to confirmation that he is, indeed, a nutjob in full and has apparently moved to the right area.
What is his offense you ask? Well, apparently he's extremely upset because he can't seem to find a place to buy fireworks. Of course he don't seem to understand that, around here at least, you can't buy fireworks at all until about two weeks before the fourth of July. And then only in certain places, usually outside of any city or town limits.
That however isn't (quite) what confirms his nutjob status. The kicker is the reason he wants them. When asked he replied. "Why, to celebrate Valentine's day of course." as if everybody celebrated the 14th of February with fireworks displays.
Years back a guy I knew was prescribed prenatal vitamins to treat a problem he had. yet even the idea of a guy taking something like that isn't nearly as weird as what happened just the other day.
One of my more seriously whacked out neighbors recently offered to mix up a batch of his "ultimate cure" for dry skin after he noticed that I was dealing with a bad case of what I think of as "winter skin" (dried out from being inside all the time with the heater drying out the air or from cold air when outside)
It turned out that his super duper formula included, of all things, preparation H.
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