Monday, April 24, 2006

Rage against the machines

They started at 9 a.m. Saturday morning. The lawn mowers. The leaf blowers. The weed whackers. The hedge trimmers.

My neighbors are obsessed. Their lawns are immaculate (except that one house where the drug dealers live). Whenever one machine stopped another one began.

All of this activity ruined my plans for the weekend: To sleep late, nap often and spend all of my time on the porch in the hammock.

So now I'm cranky.

Actually, I'm cranky for a lot of reasons, but this was just the icing on the cupcake.

5 comments:

Dr. Chingasa said...

I get that rage too. I've developed a tolerance for lawnmowers, but the leaf-blower wielding bastards have to die.

dottcomments said...

Want to join my vigilante group?

I think I'll start a Web site: getarake.com.

Kath said...

Don't you HATE IT when that happens? I have my own sweet form of revenge. Every afternoon when I finish working, I open all my bedroom windows and CRANK my iPod while I take a shower. Usually serenade the neighbors with the gentle tunes of Incubus, AFI, Coheed & Cambria or something similar. Juvenile for sure, but it's as close I can get to payback for the dogs that bark and babies that scream on early weekend mornings.

Martha said...

But then, dotcomments, your crankitude is hilarous, so I'm not sure I WANT them to be quiet.

And is everybody out there gittin' all gussied up for Derby weekend?

(asks a Kentucky gal who's a long way from home this weekend...)

dottcomments said...

Kath: I think I could tolerate YOUR tunes.

Martha: Derby? Is that a type of hat? I'm so cranky that I'm leaving town.