Had to have a little talk with my neighbor this evening....

Me dad's method of makin' me behave was.. was.. Uhm.

I seem to recall a vague memory of me being picked up and carried to my room once. That's all. Good grief, what a wonderful child I was..
 
Looks like I'm gonna have a full blown Hatfield and McCoy battle on my hands. As I sat on my patio yesterday evening, the Fockers living behind me all pile outta the house and proceed to play batting practice in their backyard.....using my fence as a backstop. Dad is pitching, Mom is 'attempting' to play catcher and the kids are taking turns batting. Of course, 98% percent of the pitches are hitting the fence, not to mention the foul tips. They can clearly see me sitting there...watching them, and they have no clue as to what they are doing. My fence boards are Western Cedar which is a kinda soft wood so I'm quite sure that baseball hitting it will eventually do damage.

The battle front. As you can see a couple of the balls came thru the fence and I made no attempt to return them......partly because I thought they would get the message and partly because the yard was treated by ChemLawn yesterday.

See how smart Mr. Focker is? A couple of years ago, the Fockers got a couple of small dogs. In an attempt to keep the dogs from getting out of their yard, Mr. Focker nails some short pieces of wood in between the boards on my fence. Funny thing is, he used two seperate pieces only nailed in one spot each. All I have to do (or the dogs) is just slightly push the board and it falls off. How stupid!!!! These dogs also created another problem. The Fockers have three motion triggered flood lights across the back of their house. Do I need to tell you what happens everytime the dogs make a move? I feel like a fugitive being spotlighted. What a buncha fuckwits.


*charges up camcorder battery
 
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