Fracking, and Other Ways to Disturb the Neighbors

Frackers don’t get any cookies.

So mystery still ensues as to what the hell my neighbors have been up to. For those of you (that would be none of you as no one knows this blog exists), following along on my Twitter or FB, you’d have heard tell the saga of the upheaval caused by my neighbor doing mysterious shiz in his lawn.

To recap, I shall lazily repost my FB and Twitter ramblings, and perhaps expound from there:

DAY 1:
Landscapers put a giant machine across the front of my house this morning and keep running smaller machines across my driveway. Loud machines. They are going to the home of the neighbor across the way who obsessively seeds his lawn as if it’s a direct reflection of his male patterned baldness. I’m watching to see what they are doing exactly with these machines, as there is nothing there but lawn (and not a very big one). Whatever it is, they’ve been at it since 7 and it’s now 11:30 and it involves chains.

I thought maybe they were loudly hiding a body, but they don’t seem to be digging. I can see them and like I said it’s just lawn – not even stumps. It’s like they’re just going over the lawn. Maybe these are CSI heat/gas detection units disguised as landscaping noisemakers and they are trying to find a gas pocket of remains or something deep down. Either that or they’re trying to iron out his lawn, like he likes it flat or something. (He gets high, puts on Odetta and irons his lawn, man.) Or it’s making a giant comb over…

Or – oh no, maybe they’re fracking! O, sweet Glob no!

(I just went outside and yelled ‘Stop Fracking!’ at them. Just in case… They have stopped their machines. They look confused.)

Yeah. I’m thinking it’s fracking, now.

They’ve ramped up the noise considerably so I think they’re trying to frack faster before the environmental agents show up with lasers.

‎(Just screamed “Be louder!” at them, because I’m sure that there are decibel levels above this one just dying to be explored.)

It has been suggested that maybe it is not fracking, but in fact, neighborhood revenge for BB’s having ‘tested’ his PA system in the driveway yesterday afternoon. This ”testing’ involved turning the giant speakers up past eleven and staying inside the house shouting into it and then swearing because it “wasn’t working”. As the floors were rattling and the clock was nearly coming off the wall and the neighborhood dogs were all flipping the frell out, I had to ask the question “What exactly is it meant to do that it’s now not doing?”  BB replied with a string of swears and an attitude that implied that I was a hapless idiot. So he had ME speak into the mic in the kitchen while he went outside to ‘hear’ it. Hear it? Curiosity could hear it on Mars (consider that revenge for that Will.I.AM shet, bitch). So I spoke into the mic, telling my next door neighbors possibly psychotic German shepherd to relax, it was all going to be okay, and BB came back in grumbling that he ‘fixed it’. He then plugged his MP3 player into it and blared CSNY, the Shods and much of Elvis Costello’s classic My Aim Is True into the atmosphere until he was satisfied that it was working well enough to use at his office retreat where he would play the part of DJ on the beach.

While that was a plausible theory – that this was neighborly revenge (remember that? What we were originally ranting about? Like how I just went off there for a while ?), not so much that BB was a DJ – I strongly disagree and hold to the fracking theory. The seismic forces at work here were epic, and the ground rumbled to a point that made my feet hurt. There was a smell too, an unpleasant one: gaseous, nearly ozone in nature. Sort of an angry, oily, electrically burny smell. All of that, coupled with the fact that the neighbor in question is shifty, and I’m fairly certain a republican, further supports my fracking theory. I mean, the guy is a genuine douche. I live on a corner, and his house is on the street that runs parallel to my front door. Not only did he park in front of my house and block my driveway with his machines, he blocked off the street his house was on as well. So he made it so I couldn’t leave and no one on either street could leave either. Don’t you need a copper when you are gonna block a street off? Isn’t that just good manners in a civilized society?

This went on for some time, but I don’t know for how long, as around one I ended up escaping to a twisted doctor’s appointment and having an adventure that involved many people singing the “Soft Kitty” song at my mother, getting on the bad side of a phlebotomist, being snubbed by a lifelong family friend at the grocery, and picking up a rose bush named “Cocoa” from a perennial clearance sale at a local garden center and then trying to fit it into my mother’s Hyundai “Accent”.  That’s a tale for another time though.

DAY 2:

It happens again. Monkeys. No. The fracking. It started around six a.m. today. But that’s okay, I had already been awakened a half hour earlier by my neighbor revving his motorcycle over and over. By ten however, the foot buzzing rumbling is abandoned for an annoying drone that makes you really want to bang your head against a wall. Preferably a brick one.

“The frackers got the chains again. This could be fun if there wasn’t so much fracking involved. (It puts the lotion in the baaaasket.)”

“They have a little yappy dog and spare skin in their truck?”

“They may… THEY MAY. You can’t assume anything when dealing with the likes of Frackers.”

The chains clinking and clacking was just absurd. Plus they had parked the machine mover/carrier in front of my house again, and they were continuously getting a Bobcat machine up on it and then down off it again, it was like they couldn’t decide if they should use it or not.
I shouted at them some more, and all the men looked weary and skittish for the rest of the day.

So I figured there was only one thing to do: bake cookies. When they were done they were delicious (a tray of giant brownie fudge chunk and another of peanut butter blossoms) and I was shouting “See this? You can’t have any you fracking bastards!!!!” because I’m awesome and they had to know what they were up against.

I am still not sure what they were accomplishing over there. There’s a crunchy dirt mound where there wasn’t one before. BB had come home and spied at them with me (under the guise of watering the gardens and enjoying delicious cookies) and he has theorized that the big white vehicle was actually a secret refrigerated coroners vehicle, but I dunno. I don’t think the neighbor is cool enough to be moving a cemetery or hiding/unearthing bodies. But he still seems the fracking type.

I’ll post more in the week, and take a photo of his lawn as things unfold.

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2 thoughts on “Fracking, and Other Ways to Disturb the Neighbors

  1. Here – YOU talk into the mic and I’ll go outside and see if it’s working. Okay. “Testing 1 2 3. Dear neighbors. I am sorry for all of this. I have NO control over the situation…”

  2. That’s pretty much how it went down. Except I was telling Uzi the German Shepherd to calm down, it was going to be okay, I was sorry for freaking him out, & not to use this as an excuse to eat the mailman.

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