I’ve got a ton of stuff to write about. A ton! I may not remember everything in the first shot, so I may have to come back and make additions as more things come to me. I wasn’t in a good frame of mind to take notes for the most part, and yes, it has to do with our wonderful freeloaders. Besides the lovely welfare bums, though, I was quite busy. Before getting to next door, let me get other things out of the way first.

I’m having second thoughts about an exercise machine. It’d take hours and hours of working out every day to get the ideal body and to really make a difference in my muscle tone and my appearance. I just don’t have the desire to work out 8 hours a day. I’m never gonna be smaller than I have been the last 6-7 months, and I’m never gonna be under 108 pounds again, either. Not without starving or being ill. So, it’s best I just accept that and do the best I can to maintain the muscle and appearance I’ve got now, but I’m not gonna drive myself crazy with it and slave myself 8 hours a day. I’ll never be thin again and that’s that.

I’m hoping to get Trio 2 sometime soon. I forgot about that till I remembered it the other day. That’s the second album Linda, Dolly, and Emmylou did together. They put out their first one in ‘87 when I was living on Oswego Sreet in Springfield.

That wasn’t Andy who called Saturday morning when I last wrote. I was surprised he didn’t call me on Saturday, though. He chose Sunday evening instead. He told me that he and Michelle had been having fun going to gay bars.

I did get a call on Saturday morning from someone else, though. I got up at 8:00 that morning and saw that my dear old sister called. When I went to listen to her message, I got the exact opposite of what I expected to hear. I expected her to really lay into me and cuss me out and cut me down in every way possible, but instead, all she said was hi, hope to talk to you guys soon. What’s going on here? Is she playing dumb, or did she not get my fuck you letter? Well, in hopes of keeping her at a distance till we can split, I sent her a letter saying that I just needed time and would contact her once we moved, but as you know, I’ll do no such thing.

The last 3 days we spent painting the house. Tom was sandblasting the pool steps, too. It’s got a way to go but is moving along sure enough. He packed some more in the back room and took the shelves down that were bracketed to one wall.

We decided to celebrate our anniversary on his birthday. We’ll go to Red Lobster that day, and to Wal-Mart to pick each other up some cheap little $10 gift. We don’t want to be spending any money right now what with the move coming up, and you know how we are - just being together, happy and healthy, is what matters most.

OK, freeloader update - the nightmare began just after I last wrote last Saturday morning. The only thing they haven’t taken from me yet is my sleep. And they also haven’t gotten that dog yet or blasted in and out with car stereos, but they certainly took my peace away from me last Saturday. That’s the only credit I can give these sick, sorry, motherfuckers I’d like to kill so bad. God, I am so sick of blacks, Mexicans, Mormons, and assholes!!!! Someone’s gotta set these fuckers straight. They’ve got to be taught that having a subsidized house is not a ticket to making a scene for the whole neighborhood.

Saturday was like having the blacks and Mormons all over again all rolled into one. The ironic part of it was that this wild party followed the party the blacks had back in June of ‘96 to a T, with the exception of the car stereos. The similarity in it was almost scary, but that’s what you get when you got blacks or Mexicans on your shoulders. I never hated them as much as I do now. They are the rudest, hateful, mean, selfish, subhuman species I’ve ever known, and God should be ashamed of himself for creating such fucking assholes! What did I ever do to these assholes for God to sic them on me as he has?!

The party was also on a Saturday, it also was in June (the 8th rather than the 12th), they too, had a zillion cars over there, they partied for 12 hours, they barbecued, they played music from their house, and a ton of adult and kid’s voices could be heard carrying on throughout the whole ordeal. Like I said, the party was almost identical to the blacks.

Just when I was thinking that these people just might be OK after all, what with God knowing we’re moving soon, I found out the hard way how wrong I was, and boy was it hard to restrain myself. I wanted to let them have it soooooo bad with no regard to Tom’s reminding me that no human being can beat up 16 people. I was too mad to care. Yeah, I probably would’ve gotten my ass kicked, but it would’ve been worth it. These freeloaders don’t know just how lucky they are, though. It’s only because it’s temporary (besides Tom’s wanting to always do things the legal way) but had we no plans to move, you bet I’d lose it on them! I’m so sick of these fucking freeloaders partying at our expense. We pay for them to sit on their asses all day and they treat us like shit in return for it. When is this country gonna wake the fuck up and change its totally unfair laws?! These scum suckers have got to go. We can’t keep supporting them for 3 or more years at a time and have them carry on in society the way they do. No wonder there are so many racists! Well, the hatred they get is exactly what they ask for. They get what they deserve when they encounter racism. If they learned how to carry on like respectful, productive, normal, non-selfish, non-destructive, non-lazy human beings, then maybe people would see them in a different light. Meanwhile, you carry on like a fucking selfish asshole, desperate for attention, no one’s going to like you or give a damn. From here on out, I don’t care if they see me spying on them, I don’t care if they hear me singing at night, I don’t care what they think about the complaints the city’s gonna receive on them, but I’ll tell you one thing right now and this is a fact, not a threat - if any of these assholes come to my door, the reaction won’t be just verbal like it was with that black bitch. There’ll be no words coming out of my mouth and I don’t care if there are 50 of them.

There’s a chance they may get complained about by others, too. That guy who asked Tom what the story was with them was talking to one of the people who attended the party, and he might be lodging a complaint. We think he was trying to weed out any info he could from the guy. Also, their rowdiness set off someone’s house alarm in back somewhere. The reason we’re gonna wait till next week to send off our letter is so that the city doesn’t think we mistook their noise for moving-in noise. By then these losers will have been here 3 weeks. Also, Tom wants to wait till we get closer to moving, cuz he thinks that they’ll react just the opposite of the blacks. He thinks it’ll provoke them into being louder, and that they’re “blatantly illegal.” They go to extremes and push it to the limit till they can’t get away with their shit anymore, then they go elsewhere and start all over again. They don’t mind getting evicted, either. Yeah, but the city’s not gonna just keep moving them around. If they get evicted enough times, then they’re on their own, and if they’re too lazy to work, what are they gonna do? Guess they’ll have to deal drugs, won’t they? That’s probably why so many Mexicans and blacks deal in the first place. It’s easier than working. They’re just so anti-work. “Blatantly fucked” is what they are, and no matter when we move, or what they do, they’re gonna get theirs and I’m gonna see to it. No matter what happens from here on out, and regardless of the fact that they have been much quieter, the city and the mayor’s gonna be hearing from us. Someone’s gotta teach these assholes that they can’t keep up with the same old cycle of shit and that their avenues will run out on them.

Anyway, from the looks of it, Saturday was a special occasion. We thought one of the millions of kids was having a birthday party, but it may’ve been more like a housewarming party, cuz I thought I saw someone carrying a gift as they arrived, and Tom saw a box for a blender in the dumpster. I thought housewarming parties were supposed to be for those who owned houses, not rented.

At 10:00, the music began. Not from cars, but from inside the house. It didn’t have the bass that rap music has, and with no fans, you could only hear it in the music room, and faintly in the bedroom. That was enough for me, though, so I went out front just as half a dozen adults and half a dozen kids were pulled up in two cars and told them to turn the music down.

A woman said, “We don’t have any music.”

I mentioned the music coming from the house, and she said she’d tell them. Believe it or not, the music did get softer. I could still hear it in the music room, but it did actually get softer. But not right away. No, these rebellious little fucks, that are a total, total carbon copy of the phony black cock, took their sweet time in lowering it. Nothing could be heard at all over fans, the music was never close to being loud enough to wake me up, and neither was anything else they did, but we both heard enough. The illegality of it and knowing that it’s our tax dollars that lets them carry on this way is what really burned me up. And how dare God give people like this any kids let alone so many! I don’t want a kid, and he did the right thing by not allowing me one, but I swear, he wants kids to go to the fuck-ups of this world. That was obvious a long time ago, and I try not to let things that I can never change get to me, but it’s hard at times. I’d have gone after them for damn sure if I knew we weren’t moving, and I’d have been way more stressed out and tight-chested. I’d have slept like shit too, always waking up, but I slept OK. Not going to sleep till the party was breaking up helped, too. In fact, I went to sleep at the exact same time I did the night of the freeloader’s big bash.

I thought about opening the music room window and giving them a sample of my music, but as Tom said, they wouldn’t even think twice about it, cuz it’s so much a part of their lives and everyday living.

When I asked Tom what our compensation would be for the new house, since God puts strings attached to everything he lets me have and seemingly with him too, he said this is our compensation. I hope he’s right!

It just couldn’t get dark fast enough, but not even that stopped them from hanging outside yelling and screaming. I can’t believe our yard wasn’t littered like hell. They sat on their cars and were everywhere! In back, in front, in the carport, in the driveway. The house was infested with adults and kids. I knew the heat wouldn’t keep them inside, although conveniently, God’s been keeping things pretty mild around here weather-wise. I kept wishing it was December, cuz I’d think that any normal human being wouldn’t want to be out on a cold winter evening, but these people are anything but normal, and not even human as far as I’m concerned.

Let’s see…besides the 5-hour concert, there were at least a dozen cars, and of course, they kept coming and going. They’re all so fucking fat over there that they probably had to keep going to the store for hot dogs and shit like that (they were barbecuing), among lines of coke, no doubt.

For cars - there was the ranchero, the gold one, the darker gold one, some dark green one, the furniture truck, the blue pickup, a silver pickup, an older white car, a new white car, a red and white van, and more.

The voices were non-stop for 12 hours, and I almost screamed shut up out back by the wall just to make me feel better. However, I knew that if Tom heard me, he’d be paranoid that Iran’s army would come hunt us down and kill us for it.

This is really gonna hurt us trying to sell this place. These people fuck those up who just want to live their lives in peace in so many ways. No one wants to move into a Mexican neighborhood with their loud, overcrowded, selfish, rude lifestyle. I just hope God sends us someone who doesn’t mind the noise, but I know better than to ask him for any favors.

Yesterday, I heard horn-honking, a woman saying, “Fucking son of a bitch,” and the kids’ screams that would come in intermittent bouts. Like I said, it was blacks and Mormons all over again. The blue pickup was over there for a while yesterday. Just like with the bitch, they can’t go a day in their lives without some car showing up there. The fat broad in the ranchero was the visitor of today, but today’s been amazingly quiet. Today they’re pretty much back to being how they were up till Saturday. Not even the kids are out for their evening stroll in the street.

My neighbor at the Vista, Mary B, wasn’t kidding when she said that where there’s 1 there are 50 of these things. There had to have been a total of 50 people, counting adults and kids.