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So we live next door to a cool old house (actually, cool old houses on either side of us). Unfortunately, one of the houses has RENTERS. Before I get all of the renter hate mail, let me 'splain (you know, like "LUUUCY, you have some 'splainin' to do...").

Renters are FINE, IF they treat the house like it's their own house and perform the regular home-owner duties. You know, like mowing your lawn and not shooting bottle rockets at someone else's dogs on July 4.

I think you get the picture.

There's an older woman that lives there with her son who

  • has to be 30-something
  • has no job (I know this because the mom told me)
  • plays RAVE (house, party) music loud enough to shake the walls in my EXTREMELY WELL insulated house
  • makes a twice-to-three times daily trek to the local bar down the street (I know this because my home office window faces their house and the road)

There are so many things wrong with this picture, but I'm only going to concentrate on ONE today: THE RAVE MUSIC.

Besides the fact that I loathe this kind of fast-paced, heavy-beat music, I just don't get it. It's apparent to me that this deadbeat, er, um, SON sits home sponging off his mother, doing X all day and alternating between the bar and his home RAVE DEN.

Is there a point to this posting? Yes.

I get up this morning at 5:45 a.m. (on a day that I didn't have to go into the store until later and I could've slept in...but I'm not bitter) and notice for the first time that this loser has BLINKING COLORED CHRISTMAS LIGHTS AROUND HIS BEDROOM WINDOW.


If this doesn't scream rave/ecstasy den, then I don't know what does.


Again, I'm not bitter.

Maybe some day I will tell you about the beautiful dream house that we built only to have someone move across the street, build the same house, and burn off the front lawn only to replace it with tacky white landscaping gravel. (I SWEAR it's true).

My mamma once told me, "Just because you have money doesn't mean you have taste."