10th & Park

The Incredible True Stories of 'That Crazy White Girl'

Friday, May 26

Hollaback Girl

BEG was down last weekend and Jamie was nowhere to be found. Apparently him and The Woman are on the outs again...not surprising (remember, sometimes he's just fucking stupid), or maybe he ran someone over again (As mentioned before, this has already happened twice in the last two years and is not out of the realm of possibility). Either way, he wasn't here.

We did see The Woman though. Her boys were getting ready for prom and she was being totally 'Prom Mom' fussing and embarrassing them. They're good boys though.

Once again, BEG was down from The Sau' and Jameson was no where in sight. He wasn't here to holla at her, and thus, in breaking with tradition, she was not a hollaback girl. This was traumatic for BEG. One good holla has us laughing all weekend...but then again, we are easily amused.

Anyway, I had to buy a new garbage can the old one having been destroyed in a vaccum cleaner incident (The Great Vaccum Cleaner Incident of 2006, if you will) and was set upon the adventure of getting rid of the old broken one. If you've ever tried to throw away a garbage can, you know the hell I'm facing. I left the garbage that was already in the can...why bother to take it out if the can is garbage too? I put the can in a garbage bag. I was almost tempted to write something like, "This is garbage" on it with a Sharpie (not a Sharpei...cause that's a dog with a wrinkley face), but then I figured Kevin would be wanderin' around out there, stop to read it and be stumped for hours. We're expectin' some more rain and I don't want him to drown.

So, I was takin' the garbage garbage can out to the barn (Garbage day isn't until next Thursday with the holiday coming and all) and Sammy-From-Miami yelled "Hey, Khrys! You got a friend out here!" I fought the urge to say something about the fact that I was already out there, since clearly I was outside. I kept my commentary to myself. Also, I could hear Jameson when I was in the house so I already knew he was lurking around somewhere near.

I was happy to see him though. I explained my mission to throw away the broken garbage can. Then I remembered that BEG had been down here and hadn't gotten the chance to be a hollaback girl. I told him she was around and the saga of the hollaback-less. He was all buggin' cause he missed her.

He's totally into her, wanted to know everything she said about him. I really didn't know what to tell him, I mean she really didn't say too much about him. It was just the mockery of the hollaback. I played dumb, and then they tried to get me to do shots with them (mind you it was like 1:30 pm on a Friday afternoon). I managed to escape when Chubby Christina showed up to give Sammy-From-Miami another payment for the drunken damage she did to his siding last summer...but that's a whole different story!

Wednesday, May 3

Assault on My Senses...

(Dually posted on Ivory's Unfinished Thoughts)

Dear People outside of my house (let's say those within a five house radius to mine),
It's warm today. My windows are open so I don't have to spend another dark gloomy day feeling like I am suffocating (this does not mean it is not still dark and gloomy). They are open to air out a large stuffy house that has been all closed up since the end of November. They are NOT however open so you can just fucking assault my senses.

It's cool if you want to listen to your slow-jams or your gansta rap. I don't mind. I even like some of it...when it's at a reasonable volume and not blaring to fight with someone else's respective slow-jams/gansta rap and the ten gillion pimped out rice-grinders you people instist on racing around here all day and night long.

It's a wonder Sammy is deaf. Yeah, you people know Sammy. Don't pretend like you have no idea what I'm talking about. The man lived in the house next door to mine for eight years now and he can't hear a damned thing.

It's not necessary to have a sound war. It is also not necessary to yell out to your homeboy Javan when he is all the way down at the other end of the block with his stereo thumpin' away. Javan cannot hear you! The only reason I can hear you is because you chose to stop right outside my open windows and scream for him at the top of you lungs...not once, but seven times before you finally gave up and walked your fat ass down there!

Also, while we're still on the topic of loud. In the middle of the night, it's hard to make the distinction between gunfire and fire-crackers. I think if you're going to make the loud sounds and disturb us all anyway, you should begin doing so by yelling either FIRECRACKER or GUNFIRE. At least give the white people a chance to duck since we clearly have no idea why you continue to shoot at each other and break beer bottles over each other's heads.

I don't think we want to know. Just go about your business and leave us out of it. This new rule also applies to those of you who think it's ok to bounce a basketball lazily down the sidewalk in the dead of night. I don't know why you do this. I don't want to know. Just yell, "BASKETBALL!" and get on your merry way.

Next, in the long line of my many senses you wreck on a daily basis all warm weather season long... It is just not necessary to fire up the grill every night. No one needs that much grilled meat...if that's a name that can be applied to any of the things you're grilling. On a side note, if whatever you're grilling is not traditionally thought of as a farm animal, I am not interested. I don't care to eat the raccoon you shot digging through your garbage last night (BTW: You should have yelled 'GUNFIRE'. I almost peed my pants!).

And once again, it was NOT necessary to yell down to Javan that you shot the raccoon. Javan cannot hear you.

Saturday, March 18

F@#%er Kicked My Dog!

So, yesterday, which was enough of a pain in the ass of a day to begin with just seemed to progressively get worse as it continued on. Apparently, I am seriously retarded when it comes to figuring out how to create a blog template of my own (don't fret. I got someone else on it now), my feud with the asshole credit card company from hell continued on which had me hanging on the phone waiting for an actual human to answer for about an hour and alas, I managed to talk to no one and really only ended up hurting my ear. I talked to my grandmother...well, I called her house to wish her happy birthday and got the machine, and then she called me back. I wished her happy birthday and she told me Grandpa has to have an operation on his barely there rotator cuff. I wasn't sure that was a good plan at his age and it's not like he's going to be pitching for the big leagues. Then my mother called to tell me my little brother was gushing blood from his nose again (apparently he was on his way home from work when it started and there's now blood all over the inside of his truck...ewww!) and she was taking him to the hospital, so I got to wait around and fret about that since he's all of 21 years old and has some serious health issues to begin with. At this point, I had already managed to work myself into a tizzy. My dogs start going nuts and my motion detector was beeping up a storm, which usually just means there's a car in the neighbors driveway or they're at the very least wandering around out there. I got up and looked. It was Ronnie with the Mountaineer...a car in the driveway, just like I thought. However the dogs contintued to bark as they are super protective of me when I'm here alone (which was sort of the point of having dogs). I thought maybe it was because Ronnie was without his doo-rag thing and was wearing these obnoxious safety glasses, like maybe they just didn't recognize him. I tried to get them to calm down, but to no avail and then Joe was knocking on my back door. I'm guessing that Ronnie set off the motion detector with the Mountaineer...since Joe is like the tiniest man alive (just over five feet...I'm seriously taller) and this is why the dogs were having a fit. The dogs always bark at Joe. So, I was already on the phone but I opened the door anyway, even though he was the last thing that I needed to add to the day from hell. On top of it, he had spent the whole afternoon down at The 'Hoe (it's a bar/restaurant) and was totally drunk. He immediatley started shit with Angus (my gigantic golden retriever who consistantly encourage people to not play rough with). Angus, being my protector and Joe being a drunken fucking idiot, Angus started to growl at him angerily. This was no surprise to me. This is what he gets for coming in and acting like a shithead, already sloshed at like 5pm on a Friday. So I yelled at him (Joe, not the dog) and he just wouldn't stop so neither would Angus. Angus turned around to come and lay by my feet like he does when he thinks I'm in danger and Joe kicked him in the ass. I flipped my shit and ordered him out of my house. On his way to the door he was trying to make nice with both me and the dog but neither of us were having it as the dog kept growling and I literally had to hang on to his collar to keep him from tearing the little man apart. Joe was all, "Was I that bad?" And I was like, "I wouldn't come over to your house acting like a psycho and I certainly would kick your dog!" He left, slamming my door just in time to get yelled at by Sammy (my neighbor) for slamming my door. Hubby called and I lost it again. I was yelling and telling him that the little fucker kicked my dog...and then I gave the dog permission to bite him the next time. Joe fucking deserved it! I have a 105 pound Golden Retriever that knocks me down. I can only imagine he would have torn the little man to pieces for the shit he pulled if I hadn't been holding him back! It's just fucking wrong! I don't care who you are! You don't show up unnanounced on someone's back porch, drunk off your ass and then start shit with them and a feisty, gigantic puppy trying to protect it's owner! I cannot believe that fucker kicked my dog! BTW: Little bro' is out of the hospital. He had to have his nose cauterized and then apparently the stuff they sprayed in it to numb it made him all sorts of nauseous so he spent most of the night vomitting. He lives to see another day!

Friday, March 17

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

If that kid doesn't stop bouncing that basketball, I might have to shove it down his throat!

Yesterday, we were expecting a gigantic snowstorm...something like 8” was rumored and Wednesday night the ghetto was in a tizzy. Located just four blocks off of Lake Michigan, and used to the lake effect, there were some people expecting more snow than was rumored. In fact, many were behaving like it was the end of the world, some kind of The Day After Tomorrow sort of shit that would find us all frozen to death in our homes, well, nice big house for me, lean-tos and shanties for others, when the snow finally stopped falling.

I, on the other hand, being of a logical and intelligent mind, was not so fraidy cat about this. I was not running around throwing down salt, diggin’ the shovel out of the garage and freaking out that there was a big, scary snowstorm coming for us. For the love of Joe Pesci, it’s not like we live in a trailer park…just the ghetto and bad weather is not hunting us!

I don’t like snow, but it happens. I have lived here long enough to get used to the shitty lake-effect weather that seems to want to end us every winter (at this point I have been thru two winters here). But recently, the temp has been between the 40’s and mid-sixties - Pretty spring-ish, if you ask me. I was sure that the weather had gotten too nice already and the ground was too warm already (there’s a lot of smoosh) for any snow to stick and stay around for any duration of time.

When I got up yesterday morning, it was dark. I only half expected there to be snow on the ground…and upon looking out the window, I found that there was barely any, just enough to cover the grassy areas really and it was raining…not snowing. As previously assumed, it was nowhere near the scary 8" they'd predicted and basically it just turned the neighborhood into a dark, slushy wet disaster. Now, that's all fine and good. I'd sooner have the ground sloppy wet than covered in ice and snow. But it was terribly cold and dark and yucky out. I, personally, did not have any plans to venture beyond my own yard (I do have dogs and occasionally they have to go out) and I fully expected 10th and Park and all outlying areas to be devoid of outside life. I'd expected that everyone would just chill in their respectable homes, shanties or lean-to's for some and like me, not go out again until the world was brighter and a little less soggy.

For the most part, it was true. The street was quiet, a few cars here and there, but nothing of the usual hustle and bustle of life on Park Ave. I didn’t even open the curtains (why bother when its dark outside anyway?).

I was hangin' at my desk, working on the post I put up yesterday and feuding with Blogger, which seems to be not functioning so well the last couple of days, getting into the groove when all of a sudden I was startled by a THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! My first instinct, once my heart rate slowed again from the sudden shock, was to make sure nothing in the house was on its way to exploding (I live in an old, gigantic house with a boiler…you do the math). However, since I'm me, I changed my mind and assumed that it was coming from outside, even though I could literally feel the THUMP from my desk chair. So, I went over to the closed curtains and peaked out to see that fat boy from two houses down (yes, this would be hell-spawn of obvious-stater, Kevin) outside with no coat, bouncing a basketball down the sidewalk. After I got over the initial shock of him not having a coat on and the realization that he probably doesn't have one (note whom his parents are and how they don’t seem to be employed), and the confusion as to why he would be outside in the middle of the day (shouldn’t he be in school?) bouncing a basketball through the muck, I just assumed he was headed down to the former elementary school to shoot some hoops...even if it was the most retarded thing he could have been doing just then in said yucky weather.

I went back to working as the sound faded and I could barely even hear it anymore. I worked on the post for a few more minutes, the peace and quiet of the dark day returning and then again…THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! Scaring the bejesus out of me once again!!Have you ever heard the sound a bounced basketball makes on slushy, gross pavement? It's not terribly good. In fact, it's pretty nails-on-a-chalkboard. I liken it to the sound of someone smashing someone else’s decapitated head on the pavement, in sort of a slam-dunk kind of way. I have heard less terrifying sounds in horror movies!

This kid literally bounced that fucking basketball up and down the block for very nearly the rest of the day and every fucking time he got anywhere near my house, it scared the shit out of me (this is mostly because every time the sound faded in the direction of his house, I was hopeful he’d given up on the ball). I was so ready to capture him and force the thing down his throat.

It also doesn’t help that this was the only sound to be heard on Park or the fact that this kid is an irritating little shit on a good day. I already have a big hate for him since his mother is fat and lazy and has given birth to more children than I can count on two hands and his father is just…stupid, and then there’s fat boy’s affinity to throwing or rather hitting rocks at passing cars with a tennis racquet. Also, when we got out sidewalk replaced last fall, fat boy and one of his little ghetto friends ran thru it and wrote in it when it was wet (yes, it’s a treat to have a chunk of sidewalk that says, “Brittany Sucks”).

I would have gone to knock on their door to complain to whichever of his parents had gotten up off the couch to answer, but I was sure that I’d just get Kevin and he’d just tell me that his son had a basketball…which I of course was already well aware of. I swear, monkeys could have raised this kid better…but then again, there are a lot of children around here and in the rest of the world that could have been better raised by monkeys.

Thursday, March 16

Sometimes You're Just Stupid...

So, the guy down the street...well the guy at his older girlfriends house down the street 'cause he actually still lives with his mama on the other side of the city, is always causin' some kind of drama. Last summer, he was responsible for the restraining order cavalcade which had everyone staying inside their own houses and no one was talking until they expired. I hear, since I wasn't here to witness two summers ago, this last summer broke the record from the previous summer. Plus, in the last two years, he has been involved in two auto versus pedestrian 'accidents' (the polite way I think this is like a hobby for him), one causing bodily harm and the other, death. For all intents and purposes though, he's nice and sweet. He's a good guy, if you don't take into consideration the drama, the 'accidents'...Oh, and the fact that he doesn't have a job. Basically he's a housewife (we started a club and actually trade recipes. yeah, Park Ave is a special, special place. Anyway, he's been trying to get me to help with fixing his relationship with his baby's mama (they've been together forever now, off and on, but said child actually only lived for about six weeks. he hasn't really dealt with this and she keeps encouraging him to just grow up and move on with his life. If he did that, or at the very least got a job and showed some kind of motivation to grow as a human, she wouldn't be so hard on him and they would just be happy. Maybe he would even stop cheating on her with side-show feature wieghted women in the neighborhood who for now shall remain nameless). I tried to help a couple times when I thought he might actually listen when told politely that he was doing things that made her angry, like without even thinking about how it will affect her...the basic your-livin'-in-you're-own-little-fantasy world speech. Uh-uh! Shaking my head as though I still don't understand how this could have happened, how he can just have no clue about anything like this and still manage to survive. So now, I just ignore it when he tries to get my help. Or that was what I was doing. The most recent drama would have been like a month ago when he struck a pedestrian with baby's mama's car without a driver's lisense due to having killed a pedestrian two New Year's Eves ago (Apparently, she was drunk and irratic and he was backing out of the driveway in a snowstorm and they found him not at fault, but they took his lisense anyway). He was around (I think he got out of jail that day) in the neighborhood hanging around her house waiting for her to get off work (I think he needed a ride somewhere). She showed up. They got into a fight and she left. He saught my help to fix things with her. I laid it out flat, having watched him struggle since I moved here. I sat him down and spoke really slowly so he'd be sure to understand, "Sometimes...you're just...stupid." I was waiting for Kevin to come up and tell me that these two were fighting again this is how far the ridiculous behavior has regressed on 10th and Park. Down here, were turning men into boys by the dozens. Anyway, this apparently provoked him. He was like, "Yur gonna sit up in here and tell me I'm stupid?". To which, I replied, "Yes...yes, I'm gonna...sit up in here and tell you you're stupid." Then I finally realized he was just playin'. So I added, "Also, you might want to get a job." Then he asked, "You really think full time employment will help?" as though he wasn't sure having a job would make him more impressive and a little like he was leaning more towards the cute picture in his head where it didn't. I just said, "Stupid." I think he finally got the hint. Then he said some Snoop Job's secret language shit that I as an ignorant white woman just will never understand completely and went on his merry way back down to the corner to sit on her front stoop with her boys, all three of them waiting for her to come home. I didn't stick around long enough to see how it played out, but he's disappeared again. No one has seen him in days. Also know that when someone seems to be missing, I'm the one everyone else asks about it as though I'm some kind of finding people and stuff type person. So, I can't imagine it went well. Knowing him, he probably hit another pedestrian...or maybe a tiny, little bat tried to eat the family again...more on that sitch' later!

Tuesday, March 14

Kevin States the Obvious...

So, I was ultra-lazy yesterday and apparently couldn't manage to get my white ass out to the mail box. Thus, the mail was outside until this morning when I noticed our former mail-bitch, now just a substitute for us, walking up to deliver the mail to the house across the street. Since I know how she is, her having been our mail-carrier for the whole first year we lived here, I knew she wouldn't be nice, even though she knows I'm home, and leave today's mail with yesterday's still in the box.

I got up and opened up, door #1, then #2 and so on and so forth until I had made it through the fourth doorway and was outside on my front step just in time to see that the mail-bitch had only managed to get to the next house on the other side of the street and to see that Kevin from 2 houses down was swaggering towards me. Of course, I took my usual moment to wonder if Kevin has ever worked a day in his life since he always seems to be around and swaggering down the street in his pimp gear. I imagine he has not.

I turned and took a step towards the mailbox just in time to hear Kevin say, in his very low and slow voice (I imagine he smokes up a lot), "She ain't been here yet." I turn around to face him with sort of a Thank-You-Captain-Obvious look on my face and say in return, "I know, I was just getting yesterday's mail." To which he replies, "Oh yeah, she won't leave it if there's mail in there already." in a sort of way that made me think he thought he had said something intelligent. But then he tells me again that she hadn't been here yet.

I immediately pointed to the exact spot across the street where Anna was now standing on the next house's front porch sticking their mail in the mailbox. God! She's slow. Anyway, I was like, "She's right there, life-sized. I can see her. The street isn't that wide. I have corrective lenses." He then looked at me completely dumb-founded and I gave up and came back into the house with the one puny piece of mail from yesterday which turned out to be a credit card offer piece-of-shit anyway.

I can say without a doubt though, that any time I step out my four front doors, Kevin is right there to tell me something completely obvious or something I have already been made well aware of. It doesn't matter what time of day or what day of the week it is. He's always there.

When the new roof got put on the house he came up and said something to the effect of, "You're getting a new roof." To which I replied with something like, "No, we just like it when a large group of Mexicans crawl around up there." Just the other day he was out there with their puppy (Not tagged or leashed mind you) and I was petting it. He had to tell me it was a puppy as though I don't remember the exact day it was born this last summer (Also, as an adult, I have seen many types of dog breeds and know what a full-grown German Shepard looks like). If I had stayed outside with him any longer today, he would have been likely to point out to me that trees are made of wood and concrete is made of really tiny stones (Thanks BEG!)

So, this I guess was the first official sign that nicer weather is on its way and my street will once again be more entertaining than a tiger mauling Roy...or Dick Cheney shooting someone in the face! And I got to laugh today and rejoice in the fact that I am not of the stupid masses.