The Sound and My Fury

In previous posts, I've written about my neighbor, Steve the Tinkerer, and his exploits outside my window. You know, the FUCKING COCKSUCKER who doesn't have anything better to do than stand outside in his driveway and bang away at ice for three fucking hours or engage in some other activity that requires him to make a ton of noise. I've also mentioned that I don't dislike him personally and that I don't believe he's doing this to be malicious; actually, I'm not sure if I've mentioned that, but I'm saying it now. Anyway, for all that, he's still a FUCKING COCKSUCKER because he's disrupting my quietude. If I wasn't so craven, I long ago would have approached him with a lead pipe and expressed to him in no uncertain terms how displeased I was with his shenanigans.

This morning, he pulled out the big guns: at 7:30 (if you haven't figured it out, I use expletives when I'm tired and pissed), I was woken up brutally by the sound of ladders being raised, hammers being slammed, and wood being broken. I looked out my window and saw a handful of guys going to town on the side of Steve's house. The cold realization struck me that not only will they be there all day, they will be there for at least a couple of weeks. For it appears they are putting up new siding and shingles on the house. Well, I'm glad they started on the side directly opposite my window, because I have the day off and will be able to enjoy the pleasant chaos these fine gentlemen will produce for the entire day. As it stands , they're not making as much noise as I'd like --- they're just ripping off the old siding---but later, I'm praying to God above, they will break out the hammers and start applying the new siding. That way, even if my lazy ass decides it needs to relax in bed with a book, and perhaps take a little nap, I will be overruled by the thunderous report of a quintet of hammers , and will therefore be compelled to take up a more respectable project. Idle hands are the devil's playthings.

I'm a little disheartened at the probability that these fine young men will not be working on my next day off, which is Sunday. My only hope is that Steve will fill the gap and be out there bright and early with a hammer and chisel and have his car radio blasting crappy metal. Something tells me he won't let me down.

(oh, pleasant surprise! Just as I finished writing the above, the crew broke out the hammers. I truly am blessed. I was hoping to have my day off ruined, and now my wish has been granted.)