There's definitely something wrong with me.



To the driver of the orange Saturn VUE with New York State license plate #AGN-3258: check, mate.



n.b.: If I see your car as a personal challenge, you're definitely doing something wrong.

- Z

B's calling me the 'bat-whisperer' now but I am just a dude.

We've been doing a lot of work outside lately, what with the weather and all - (e:dragonlady7)'s been in the garden and I've been all over the garage. We were both working in the driveway area when my horrible next-door neighbor came over to the fence with both guns blazing. I have this thing that I do where I ignore her. B not so much. The situation became [in a manner of speaking] un-diplomatic to the point where I felt that I needed to intervene.

I felt that I needed to intervene. I am just a dude, not an intervener. Even a forest fire will burn itself out if you ignore it long enough, am I right people?

So I position myself directly between the two of them so that they would shut the hell up and put my arm over the fence which is a source of contention in what may or may not be construed as a gesture of ownership. I slowly raise my finger to my batty next-door neighbor and I look her in the eyes.

Meanwhile B is looking on silently and fretting, as she thinks perhaps I had just had an Exceptionally Bad Idea and she might be called upon to hide the body. My batty next-door neighbor actually looks a little terrified, and probably also thought I'd had a Bad Idea. A little background: she's about 117 years old and probably crapped herself literally as well as figuratively.

But to tell the truth I had no idea at all. There was a Situation, and I had put myself into a Place with respect to the Situation. Of that much I was sure - other than that, my mind was totally blank. And I wasn't looking her in the eyes, I was staring at the bridge of her nose, from which a large drop of blood was emerging. As you can imagine, this did wonders for my concentration.

I muttered something. She said "Yeah, I know it." That was it. I went back to work in the garage; my batty next-door neighbor shut up and left. B silently flipped out because she had no idea what kind of diplomatic coup I could possibly have just pulled off.

Later in the afternoon she came back and asked me - politely! if we could clean up her side of our garage. I said we had talked about it yesterday and although we had a lot of work to do, it was on the list. "OK," she said, and left.

Finally B asked me what I said to her. "I said her nose was bloody." "That's it?!" "That was the only thing I could think of."

I am just a dude. Why am I now the Motherfucker Of Diplomacy.

- Z

I had a busy day Tuesday. Some good, some bad, but man it kicked my ass. At 11am I dashed back from the client's office to the contractor's office to fix some stuff before I had to go back to the client at 3pm. For those who don't work downtown or drive, 11am is probably the worst time to find a spot. Even latecomers are at work by then, but it's too early for anyone to have gone home. As is often the case, the Mohawk ramp was full so I went a couple blocks to the lot by the library. It's a huge expanse of pavement and I made a beeline straight for the last row, which was nearly full.

I found a spot right away but as I pulled closer I found out why it was a spot. Some douche had taken up about 1.1 parking spaces - probably about 18 inches over on the driver's side. Too pressed for time to be angry, I did the math, slid my 0.85-car-width Japanese subcompact right in, and got on my way.

Now at this point I should mention that when I came back to my car it was parked dead-nuts center. That could have left maybe two inches between the cars, max - not even wide enough to get to the door, much less open it. Some people have asked and yes I did briefly consider the possibility of a spite sideswipe but it wasn't borne out by the relative-perceived-worth test [other car was a Mercedes sedan].

So I went back to my car around 3pm dreading trying to squeeze back out, which is often harder than squeezing in. But when I got back to my car I found the situation had resolved itself with a cherry on top. Not only had Mr Congeniality vacated the premises ... not only did he avoid sideswiping me on the way out ... but he tucked this award under my windshield!



Knowing that he'd spent the time finding an envelope and a pen, and stood out in the freezing cold writing this out just for me, totally made my day. Maybe he'd even waited to give it to me in person! As you can tell I hung it up in a place of honor.

But then he stole my ticket! The attendant puts the ticket under your windshield wiper and gives you the stub, and he stole my ticket! It's not like they couldn't charge me based on the stub, and it's not like I didn't already have to pay the full daily fare, but still.

And see I think he got off easy. You can't do that shit in a pay lot because if you take up two spots, that's one spot they can't charge for, and fuck if they'll let that happen. They'll tow your ass. Instead all he had to do was a little freestyle pilates over this snug little piece of equipment:



'cause for $54,075, you don't get bench seats.

- Z

I will refrain from engaging in the tradition of posting porn on my 69th post, but I will send you to this that is SFW but probably shouldn't be.

Last night we moved Marjory to her new home in front of the garage rather than behind. I really don't know whether the inspector will go for it, but he did say his only concern was whether it met code - and that is one thing that it does.

Anyway, about the front yard- we have added a cute little brick pathway, expanded one garden, and created a raised bed, and filled them all with flowers. (e:dragonlady7) spent all yesterday finishing it up, and it looks fabulous. But I was very amused today when I came home from work to find-- well, it looks like the psycho cuntbag next door is trying to keep up with the Joneses. And the Joneses are, of all people - me and (e:dragonlady7) ! She had flats and flats of new flowers that she was planting in her front yard, and it is just driving her crazy that our front yard looks nicer than hers.

- Z. Jones

(e:dragonlady7) ,

If you and (e:zobar) want to really get at the old bitch next door, I can bring over about 1500 pounds of grass clippings to add to your compost pile. Not sure if you remember the muppets other show, fraggle rock, and the all knowing trash heap, we could build one in your back yard. I can also get as much dirt as you may need to mix with the compost. All of this is free, of course. Also, if the town forces you to get rid of the compist pile, we could probably take care of that, too. [My other cousin] has a 1 acre swamp that we are in the process of filling in, and we could move the compost to the swamp, if it becomes necessary. I would love to see the look on the bitches face when I show up with a truck loaded with grass clippings!! By the way, I apologize if I butchered the spelling of your name.



- [My cousin]

and that's all there is to it. I just got off the phone with the building inspector re: the Compost Heap of the Apocalypse with what I felt was a reasonable compromise that would address his fire hazard concerns. [I offered to build a firewall out of hollow concrete blocks between the compost heap and the garage, which we agreed in principle adequately addressed the fire hazard.] He said nope, 3' from the garage and 3' from the property line, regardless of actual danger of fire.

I then went on to explain what she did with the last inspector who came by, calling his office every day for a week after he signed off on it, and eventually filing his inbox with false statements. He asked if I would want a compost heap next to my property. I said if she didn't like it where it is, she was far less likely to like it where it will be. I asked if he had any better suggestions for where to put it. He came up empty. I asked if moving it was the only solution. He said code is code, and moving it is the only solution. I sighed and said would you mind at least coming by next Monday or Tuesday when somebody will be around? He said no problem.

So it looks like it's going 3' from the front of the garage and 3' from the fence. Code is code, and if she's still angry, at least she's got someone to call every day for a week.

- Z