An hour ago, there came a knock on our door. I peeked out the window, and it was Annoying Boy. I was going to ignore him and not answer the door. Lin made me answer the door … me and not him … because I was the one who had clothes on. And what was the cause of AB knocking on my door? To give us grief about mowing our damn lawn. He’d already given Lin grief about it last night when he stopped him at he door coming home from work. Lin had already said he’d planned to mow the lawn this weekend, if it wasn’t too wet. But no, AB has to come knock on our door, undoubtedly at the request of his insane mother, to get all frantic on me about the lawn getting mowed.

I told Lin to blow of mowing the lawn today. Screw them. Additionally, the next time there is screaming and the throwing of things going on in the driveway by my bedroom window at some unreasonable hour of the day or night, I will be opening my window and telling them to shut the f*ck up.

Besides, there’s actually no grass to be mowed. It’s still dead and hasn’t even started growing yet. The only thing taller than an inch or so are the dandelions, and mowing them isn’t going to do any good. In fact, it will only make it that much harder for me to get them out of the ground.

No, there will be no lawn mowing today. Though I think there may be some lawn mowing going on tomorrow morning … as soon as the first rays of sunlight crest over the horizon. If Lin’s too non-confrontational to do that, I will. I am sick to death of “when you going to mow your lawn … when you going to get rid of your broken car … when you going to cut down those trees … when you going to fix (insert old house issue here) … when you going to (whatever else they manage to come up with), as well as why don’t we go play pool/go have a drink/go do whatever AB wants to do. How about they stay on their side of our property line and worry about all the junk in their back yard, their year-long Xmas light strings, their constantly escaping and breeding animals, their rat problem, their own collection of broken cars, their marital problems, their mental problems, their drug problems, and their own damn lawn and trees … and I will do the same. Oh, I mean TREE, because they have already cut down all the rest of theirs.

And for heaven’s sake, if you, as an adult living next me to have something to say to me, come up to me and say it. Don’t send your moronic brat over here to do it for you. Not that whatever it is you want of me will be any more freely given, but at least it’s the adult thing to do.

And no, I do not need help bringing in my groceries either … it’ll be a cold day in hell when I let any of that lot past the threshold of my front door.

Kiss my ass. They don’t want me to get vindictive and mean. I’m human. I have a vindictive and mean streak as wide as anybody else’s. I just don’t let mine out to play all that often. I also know the limits of the law and how to be completely annoying without getting into trouble. Don’t get me started if you want to be able to live next to me. I think it’s too late. I think they have already pissed me off completely, and now there’s just going to have to be hell to pay.

Lin says we should scape the yard down to dirt and leave it that way. Maybe some aggregate for ground cover. Yup, nothing but pebbles. I say we add a whole bunch of large cacti, especially along the property line … and a slew of plastic yard ornaments for good measure. I am particularly fond of the annoyance factor of flamingos, gnomes and whirligigs. Whirligigs with little LEDs on them.

And as if I wasn’t already in enough of a mood about all that, I heard a strange and loud noise coming from the bedroom. Ronin was seen fleeing the area. Myu was nowhere to be seen, so the establishment on guilt about who created the noise was easy. Remember, the one you can’t see is the one who did it. Well, she got all the way up to the top of the very top shelf in the closet where I keep the board games. I will leave it to your imagination what sorts of strange and loud sounds are created when a board game with a million small pieces is knocked off a six foot tall shelf.

The kittens have lost bedroom privileges. Not just for a few hours. Not just for today. Forever. They simply won’t be allowed in the bedroom without a human present, and if they still manage to make messes in there, they will just never see the inside of the bedroom again until they are too old and fat and lazy to get into anything.

This weekend is already sucking eggs. I should do the dishes and go back to bed.