You're new to the 'hood. I believe it was your mommy, a locally well-known real estate agent, who got a "sweetheart" deal on your house--at the height of the real estate bubble. She is your "Mommy" and not your "Mom" because she bought you a house. I tolerated your Harley. And your friends on Harleys. Coming to your house. At ALL HOURS. But now it's 11:48. The party is over. Turn off the music. I hate loud music from other people. That's where you have crossed the line. Turn. Off. The. Music. Or I am calling the cops.
The welcome wagon is rolling by and it's not stopping. By the way, your immediate neighbor doesn't like barking dogs, either. Interestingly enough, I think you have a little yappy one. Which. Is. Awesome! I can't stand your neighbor. And I love dogs. Did you know your next door neighbor sells sex toys? And she used to be a "life coach" dabbling in "abundance". And she also dubbed herself as "America's Sensuality Coach." After googling her I found she was involved in a Ponzi scheme via a channel 2 news article. WTF?
I may start liking you if you annoy her enough. But not enough to bake cookies.
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