So far I’ve been right about next door. They’re officially moved in and here to stay now, and the van does live there. I knew it would. I just don’t understand it, though. How is it they can be so poor and in need of our tax dollars, yet own a van like this? Maybe the city doesn’t know about the van. There’s a damn good chance that the woman that’s supposed to live there is carless like she’s supposed to be, but let her friend with the van (and the friend with the van’s kids) move in with her and her kids in secret so they could help each other out. Just like how the bitch had the convenience of her cock’s car, and the cock had the convenience of a pussy in his bed. So that makes two adults and God only knows how many kids. The friend probably needed a place too, or at least wanted to be in a house rather than an apartment, and the woman that’s supposed to be there probably appreciates the transportation. Guess they have a deal - you drive me where I need to go, and I’ll let you stay here and I’ll watch your kids along with mine and do most of the household chores.

Come next week, I’ll be able to prove/disprove my belief that says they don’t work. Already, though, we’re up to 6 different vehicles that we know of, about 10 different adults, and God only knows how many kids. Sound familiar? Tom disagrees, but I say they’re gonna be in and out several times a day, every day of the week. I think that just like with the freeloaders and the renters, there’ll be several different cars and people coming and going from there regularly. I just can’t believe I haven’t heard any music yet. Those stereos with major bass are more of a black thing, but still, I can’t believe it. Well, they’ve only been here a week, so we’ll see. They’re bound to have a theme of some kind. Just like it was the kids with the Mormons and the bass with the blacks, there’ll be something with these people. If we get through the weekend without and music problems, I’d guess their theme’s going to be a dog or two rather than music. Till I can get it removed, that is. Of course, I don’t know what the rules are for sure anymore, so I may not be able to get it removed. Hopefully, I can get them to take it indoors, though, cuz I really really do think there’s going to be a dog over there before two weeks is up. Not to mention a whole shitload of loud adults and kids. That I can live with, though. It’s music and dogs that I won’t tolerate. Not even for 5 more months.

Also, true to my vibes, they’re outdoors kinds of people. However, they were just moving in, and the weather yesterday was unbelievably mild. Like 20º below normal for being June. Perhaps something up there is going to call for mild weather for a while to let them be outdoors comfortably on account of me? Well like I said, voices I’ll tolerate, but nothing more.

The van came and went several times yesterday, and at one point, a blue/green pickup came with boxes and furniture and odds and ends. A guy and a girl in their late teens to early 20s unloaded the pickup.

When I got up at midnight, I saw a big huge furniture truck parked just outside their carport. The van was right in front of it. Do these people ever sleep, though? The lights were off when I looked over there, but the van left for a half hour or so just after midnight. As you’ll see, I’ve typed a log of their comings and goings. It’s been quite hectic, but fortunately for them, there hasn’t been much noise yet as far as slamming doors and voices go, and I’ve slept just fine. If you were to sit in the music room with no fans or music on, then yes, you can hear adult and kid voices. Van comes at 7:50 AM. Van leaves at 8:15 AM. Van comes at 9:30 AM. Van leaves at 10:30 AM. Van comes at 11:00 AM. Van leaves at noon. Blue/green pickup comes at 1:45 PM. Pickup/van leaves at 3:10 PM. Van comes at 3:40 PM. Van leaves at 12:30 AM. Van comes at 1:00 AM.

Tom and I both agree that it’ll be a rowdy weekend over there as far as people and cars go. They’re gonna want to show the place off to their millions of fucked up, jobless friends. He doesn’t think there’ll be a problem with music or dogs. He also thinks they work and that weekdays won’t call for much noise over there, but I don’t know. Like I said, God may let me out of having to deal with the music this time around, and thank God there’s no hoop there, but he’d never not let me have to deal with something. Never can Jodi have a neighbor that’s quiet or at least at a normal volume. There’s got to be something extreme. The bass vibes may’ve dropped slightly, but the dog vibe’s soared way up, and I think we can count on a dog over there for damn sure. It may take a couple of weeks, but that’s what I see. Along with the train of cars and people coming and going several times a day, it’s gonna be bark, bark, bark. Yeah well, they’ll just have to deal with me then.

Just like I did with that bitch, I’m gonna start a file on these people of their write-ups, omitting names, of course. You never know if in the end, I’ll want them to do some reading, too (if they’re not illiterate!).

Later...

Well, well, well. Our little freeloaders have been even naughtier than I was aware of. Tom didn’t leave me a message about what I’m about to write about (he crashed before I got up). He told me when he got up which was about 4 hours after I did. Bitch! Why’d you have to fucking move?! I swear it’s the same old shit all over again. 

I don’t know how the hell I slept through this, but fortunately for them, I did. Tom says that the ranchero was here again and that it does have a bassy stereo which was blaring in the carport. Tom went out and told him to turn it down, but of course, I know it won’t do him a damn bit of good. I was curious, though, to know if the reaction was annoyed, or what. He said it was a kid, less than 18 years old, and that he startled him. The kid was apparently tired of hanging out with the adults, so it went to sit in the ranchero and make an ass of itself. This is all part of the hear-me obsession these subsidized, low-class, subhuman blacks and Mexicans have. The more you reject and try to turn away from someone, the more they rebel and try harder to be heard/noticed. It’s what they want. They want the whole neighborhood to hear them, to notice them, to acknowledge them, to know they’ve arrived. These sick fucks cry about not being accepted in society, but look how they treat people! Of course, society’s gonna try to brush these species out. Our refusal to tolerate such trash, though, only feeds fuel to the fire. Tom’s asking him to turn the music down will only ensure that all the more they go out of their way to blast us out. I know the drill. I know these kinds of filth. It’s the same old deal all over again. The only difference is that instead of a pack of skinny blacks, we’ve got a pack of fat welfare bums.

Oh, how I wish we could bake them a pie, bring it over to them, welcome them to the neighborhood, then watch them croak on the poison I put in the pie! Thanks, God! Thanks a real fucking lot! You really have a lot of concern and empathy for me, huh? Why do you always do this to me? Why do the rowdy shitfucks have to go next to me? Give me a break! What? Is this my compensation for having the last year of the black’s presence be fairly quiet? Why must I start this whole noise cycle all over again? Thank God, I don’t have to go through this for 3 years, but why can’t I just have quiet neighbors? Power of prayer, my ass! I knew praying for peace would be a waste of time. Now I have to fight to restrain myself from pummeling the shit out of them and do you have any idea how hard that is? It’s like drinking several cups of water and trying not to pee.

The dogs were going off last night, as usual. I’d like to say that they were rudely awakened from a peaceful slumber only to be pissed and have a hard time falling back asleep, but I know better. They all slept like logs regardless of the barking. The barking doesn’t bother them one bit. Not while they’re awake, not while they’re asleep. They just better not be waking me up, though, or else they’re gonna learn the hard way about the consequences of being such rude, selfish assholes.

I’m tired of society’s misfits! All our hard-earned tax dollars go to support these lazy bums while they turn right around and shit on us for it. That’s what we get for helping them. Such wonderful people! Why do these fucking subsidized city bums think that just because they’re in a subsided house that they can be so rude and so loud?! Why can’t these people blend into society and act like normal, civilized human beings and keep their noise for their ears only?!

So, here’s our new plan: Again, though, I don’t know how close we can come to acting upon our current plan, but the latest idea is to just do the bare necessities as far the prep work goes, then settle on a smaller 3-bedroom cookie-cutter house, or a house that already exists on a few acres of land, get out of here in 4-6 weeks, then get the dream home put on our property later on and turn the first house into a guest house or a place for Tom to work on projects and store stuff.

Also, Tom says he’s gonna assume the weekend will be wild over there since they just moved in, but that if they’re still wild come Monday, which he’s not gonna jump the gun and assume, then he’ll write a letter not only to the city address we’ve been using, but to the mayor too, and let them know that this is just ridiculous. It’s sickening! Totally, totally asinine! Well, he may be reluctant to assume anything, but I know. I know there’ll be trouble every day.

Anyway, Tom finished sanding the kitchen yesterday, and right now he’s draining the pool so we can do the step that’s chipped, and we’re gonna prep to paint and get the vent in the bathroom.

Even picking up this old, small house and putting it on a 3-acre lot is better than staying here, but to think that we may be forced to settle for a while on account of these fucking freeloaders really makes my blood boil! I don’t like feeling like I’m being controlled like that. Especially by sick twists that ought to be shot execution-style, or better yet, tortured for hours prior to being shot execution-style.

Later...

The furniture truck left a few minutes ago and the van’s out in the street. So I guess these freeloaders have furniture buddies, huh? That must be how they can afford to rent furniture. I suppose the furniture truck took off to make deliveries, but I don’t know. Is this truck going to live there, too? Or did the people with the truck just crash there overnight last night?

A red and white pickup that was loaded with God knows what and two guys just pulled up alongside the street to talk to some Mexican guy. Then the truck took off and the Mexican guy walked back towards the house. That’s vehicle number 7. I’ve lost count of the people, though.

Later...

Oh, no you won’t. Tammy just left a message, all nicey-nice, as if nothing ever happened. She said she was just calling to say hi, she hopes we’re doing OK, and she’ll talk to me later. Keep dreaming, sis!