Gummy Bastards

Posted: May 29, 2012 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Imagine this opening paragraph appearing like the opening text to Star Wars. You know, that yellow slanted moving font that was impossible to read. Anyway, long ago in a town about 35 miles away, there was a family that lived next door to me. No. Not that family. The other side. The ones that were actually a family and not a woman who liked to cut down trees and sleep with men who drove dirty trucks. The ones on the right if you’re looking at my old house are the ones I’m talking about. This was a family who declared war on mine. Things never got out of hand, but they were entertaining enough for me to write about. Okay, that was not as epic as I had thought it would be. Kind of like the entire Star Wars franchise.

(Sorry, but I like the Ewok movies better. They got oozies!)

The family in question consisted of a mom, a dad, a daughter, and a son. The ideal for any family who is not Chinese. Their ideal family would be a son, a son, a son, and a robot. This family was nothing close to ideal. They were wretched. Being mean and aggressive was the way they chose to live their lives. And that brought out the demons in us all.

Mainly battles between our two clans took place over cat poop. They insisted that our cats were pooping on their property. I would argue today that the banks own property and that they should take it up with them, but back then I still had hope that Democracy was real. I’m sure our cats really were pooping on the lawn and I can see how that might be annoying. Even more annoying was when they would put the cat poop in a bag and leave it near our mailbox. No stamp was ever placed on the bag so it wasn’t like they were trying to send it anywhere. It would be ridiculous if they placed the stamp on the actual poop. How’s the mailman supposed to see that? Eventually things toned down and I’m sure there was a lot of yelling between parents that I never paid attention to. Our cats died and a few times we still had cat poop arrive at our mailbox. I think one time I threw it onto their roof. I don’t remember for sure. I do remember once when they were out at a soccer game I accidentally dropped a stink bomb and before it could fully shatter I broke it on their front door. They arrived home to a horrendous smell. A wonderful victory at my own hands.

(Holy shit! That finger print on the lens looks like a ghost cat. Children with large unibrows covering their eyes attract ghost cats too)

Another issue between us was that of balls traveling through the yards. We had an unwritten policy about returning balls to each other if we found them in our yards. Until they didn’t return one of my balls. Then it was fair game. My first dog Baylee popped a blow up ball of theirs. Another time, good o’le McGwire grabbed it and took it up to our deck. I remember sitting on the back deck while the kids next door were outside. At this point I was scary looking and fat. They weren’t about to ask me for their ball back so they just stood there hoping I could read minds. I can’t. So the ball sat on our deck until it slowly deflated itself. A perfectly good ball ruined because they were bitches.

(Who am I kidding? My backyard never had nearly this much grass. Only my family gets this)

I only remember going into their house one time. Their backyard, a few times, but actually inside once. I had returned home from school and neither of my parents were home. It was probably St. Patrick’s Day, Cinco de Mayo, or a work day when “mommy and daddy need a drink to help them with stress.” The neighbors let me hang at their house for about a half hour. All I remember doing was hiding under a blanket with the girl who lived there. Nothing happened. I didn’t want it to because I already knew their dirty secret. They were gummy bastards.

What is a gummy bastard? A gummy bastard is a next door neighbor of mine. More specifically, the family who had these strange things on the tops of each of their heads. The dad had it, the daughter had it, and the ginger son had it. I must have been playing a game of lice check with the daughter when I first noticed it. A big red deformity poking out of the top of her head. I poked at it because that seemed like the only thing to do. It felt like a gummy bear. But we certainly couldn’t call the family the Gummy Bears. They were not bears. They were bastards. Hence the name, the Gummy Bastards.

(I’d be a bastard too if my head contained delicious snacks I could not lick)

I’m not exactly sure why we really hated each other. I guess that’s just what neighbors do. You find things to be disgusted about one another. It’s natural though. When you are forced to see the same ugly faces everyday only feet away from where you rest your head at night, you’re going to grow to hate them. They were everything my family wasn’t. They were social, had family friends, athletic kids, their father smoked cigars instead of cigarettes like mine, the mom jogged while mine watched Dawson’s Creek, the daughter’s nickname was Cookie for some diabetic reason while my sister’s nickname was bear for reasons that made sense at the time, and their son was a Ginger while I had the hair color of champions, dirty blondish brown. All that separated us was a damn fruit snack on top of the head. Could it have been the source of their bastardness? The hair to their Samson. The genitals to their Ron Jeremy. The being married to the executive of E! to their Chelsea Handler. I can only speculate what it was. What I do know is that they were animal hating bastards. I hope a loud black family moved into our house you gummy bastards.

Comments
  1. This is just like the Hatfileds and the Mcoys, but with strange cranial deformations and cat poop. I doubt they will ever make a miniseries about this. But then again, you never know.

    • Mooselicker says:

      Patrick Stewart does a lot of those miniseries. Perhaps he could play me?

      Are you too not getting updates whenever you get comments? I think you had that problem earlier. You blamed me.

  2. The Waiting says:

    “I would argue today that the banks own property and that they should take it up with them, but back then I still had hope that Democracy was real.”

    Freaking love this so much.

  3. The Hobbler says:

    You are a little crazy though…

  4. Pete Howorth says:

    “Okay, that was not as epic as I had thought it would be. Kind of like the entire Star Wars franchise.”

    Haha, BOOM! Take that Chinless man!

    I have always been cool with my immediate neighbours, my house is on a corner so I have a house next door to me who don’t annoy us and we don’t annoy them then there’s a wall of trees around my backgarden. At the bottom of my garden over the wall of trees is someone elses garden who lives around around the corner (weird set up), they once decided to burn down one of their sheds which caught fire to our wall of tree’s burning a great deal of them down.

    Angry, I threw some stones as hard as I could throw them and shattered their patio doors, they in turn called the police on me who came around and asked me some questions, “Why did you do this” they asked me, I just said I was throwing stones for the dog and threw them a little too far, idiots believed me, considering we didn’t have a dog at the time. Since that moment we haven’t conversed.

    Their insurance paid for our trees, our insurance paid for their new patio doors. But I remain the victor because I didn’t go to jail. (Although, I was only 14.)

    • Mooselicker says:

      Hahaha if someone threw stones through my door and said they were throwing them for the dog I would ask who in the hell throws stones for a dog. Too bad you didn’t nail one of them in the head.

  5. renxkyoko says:

    Our neighbors came and left. We are the only ones that stay put. We don’t know the neighbors. We don’t care really, as long as they mow their lawns, and keep them nice and clean.

    • Mooselicker says:

      But you do want their lawn to be a little more disgusting than your own. Low enough where a lion cannot hide, but high enough where a cat might contemplate it.

      • renxkyoko says:

        I understand it’s mental torture to have some neighbor’s cat pooping on someone else’s lawn. Cat poop stinks to high heavens. It’s unfortunate that our neighbor’s cats ( 3) have decided to make our backyard and front lawn their toilet. Have you ever stepped on fresh cat’s poop? And unknowingly got in the car with cat poop stuck in your shoes?

      • Mooselicker says:

        Nope. Can’t say I have. My current neighbors do that with their dogs. They’re chihuahas so they’re about the size of cats only louder. Dog poop is worse than cat poop. But comparing them would be like comparing a tall Nazi to a short one. Just as evil only different sizes.

  6. I feel like my mom was always at war with the neighbor directly to her right, no matter who lived in that house. Often times it was about cats, like anyone can control those wiley bastards. Cats do what they want to do, unless my neighbor tied them to our porch everyday for some reason. Then they poo in a radius near our door. I felt you on that detail. It was like looking in a mirror.

    Now, are you saying this entire family had hematomas on their heads? Because those things usually go away at around age 5, if not way sooner (and come from suction in the birth canal). The entire family? That’s unfortunate. They sound utterly despisable.

    • Mooselicker says:

      So that’s what they’re called? The dad had one. I’m not sure how we knew about it. The kids were definitely over 5 when they still had gooey goodness atop their heads. I think I tried picking the girl’s off once. Could that have started the war?

  7. Wow, I’m actually wondering if I’m reading your neighbor memoirs or mine. Although in our case the worst has come to pass (I hope!) after that almost shoot-to-kill-your-neighbors last year. Big thanks to the newly-constructed fences with barbed wires and broken glasses on top, that did the trick (again, I hope!).

    • Mooselicker says:

      Most people hate their neighbors it seems. My new ones are just as bad…almost. It’s an apartment which has a bit of a different vibe. You avoid each other. You hear each other sneeze, but that’s about all the interacting we ever do. None of them are bad people. I just wish they didn’t fight and yell and throw their cigarettes on the grass in front of my apartment all the time/picked up after their annoying runt dogs when they shit more than once a week/didn’t have a giant Canadian flag in their doorway.

  8. renxkyoko says:

    In San Francisco, you have to watch out….. there’s human feces on the pavement. Ugh. I mean, I’m not kidding.

  9. Lily says:

    “I think one time I threw it onto their roof.” hahah I don’t know why this made me laugh so much, but it did. Probably because it was something that I would do. Neighbors are a great way of teaching kids that people are annoying. Cat poop isn’t even that big. It’s not like dog poop or anything crazy.

    • Mooselicker says:

      I know, right? Half the time our cats weren’t even to blame. They were a very “feel good” family. Active in sports and always having BBQs. We were probably some gross family living a little too close to their paradise.

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