My parents have these neighbors. Crazy, trashy, strange neighbors. I think that something like 30-40 people live on the property, in various trailers and whatnot.
I don't care for the parallel of living situations. My grandparents' property houses my parents et al, my aunt Rebecca et al, my uncle Ben, and my Grandpa. My brother-in-law's building a place up there. I would stress that everyone at my house lives in houses.
I also don't care for the names of some of them: Robert, April, Rebecca, Lori, Jenny, Simone.
As review, have I mentioned my parents April and Robert, my aunt Rebecca, my sister Laura, myself, or my nephew Simon? I don't care for that at all.
Anyways, there's grandpa, owner of the property. Rumor has it he's a coke dealer. Their property features a large warehouse, with trucks leaving in the night, but who am I to say?
There's Lori, who spent some time in prison after she was caught sleeping with her 13-year-old foster son. That was back when I was 13.
I don't think Jenny lives up there anymore, but she's a heroin addict. She had two kids with mouths full of silver teeth who I'm sure have been taken away from her, because even if she's still there, they are not.
Fat Jeanette literally (a) fell through the floor of her trailer, and (b) can't leave her house because to do so requires that the front door be taken off its hinges.
Rex, who just got out prison for some Meth related charge (and is soon to return for violating parole), lives in the abandoned pink Arc of the Covenant bus*. He has "peckerwood" tattooed across his stomach. Apparently this is a white supremacist prison gang, but I think it sounds like he's making a declaration about his small dick or something.
Tiffany (Lori's daughter) has a 4 1/2 year old son who's still fully in diapers. No effort has been made on her part to potty train him. While he doesn't have the most brilliant of mothers, and may therefore be swimming at the shallow end of the gene pool, he's not retarded or anything, and it's just gross. He's supposed to go to kindergarten next year, but I have my doubts. Grosser than any of that is the fact that the path up to her trailer is flanked on either side by heaps of garbage that are taller than me. Heaps of shitty diaper filled garbage. I'm not especially clear on why this is not child abuse.
Simone has Downs Syndrome, is about 12 years old, and I have NO idea who she belongs to.
There are lots more, who are in some cases less interesting (read: more normal), and in others just unkown to me.
Anyhow, in true American fashion, or neighbors like to mark holidays and special occasions with celebratory dirt biking, four-wheeling, and gun shooting. Alcohol is involved. Last night, a hearty day of drinking, shooting, and wrastling with the dogs ended abruptly and unhappily when Rex accidentally shot a hole in the roof of his mother's prefab.
My mom kept going on and on about how pissed she'd be if someone shot a hole in her roof. I wanted to know if he shot his mom's house from inside or outside, and still can't decide which one sounds stupider. The 27th time my mom said the words, "I'd be so pissed off if that happened," my dad looked at her, and responded levelly, "That could never happen here. We're just not those people."
*I used to also have some Mennonite neighbors, who are deserving of a separate post.
Also, I'm having a giveaway over here.