I leave these people for five measly days...
And look what happens.That's right. There was another dust-up in the neighborhood while I was gone.
Fortunately for me, though, my very good friends/Desperate Housewife replacement players were sure to inform me right away.
I love these ladies! Who else is going to fill me in on the latest scandals in our tiny little burg?
This week's scandal surrounds She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, of the infamous Party Crashing post. Yes, that twit who thought crashing a private, invitation-only party and literally begging my guests to leave for the charms of entertaining her mother instead. (I say twit, but really I think she's an ignorant jerk. Kathy, however, merely thinks she was off her meds. Po-TAY-toe, Po-tah-toe.)
It seems that the unrepentant party crasher and her husband were celebrating Ms. Party Crasher's fifth birthday with a little boozer. (Okay, okay. She's chronologically older than 5, but she doesn't behave as such.) I was out of the country, but to be fair, I wouldn't have gone had I been dying of thirst.
Well. The story goes that apparently my friends of the Desperate Housewife stories did go and make an appearance. However, these people who have a very clear tendency to party into the wee hours did not stay long. So imagine the neighborhood chagrin when very loud drumming (of the teenage drum set variety) begins issuing forth from the house of hell at the ungodly hour of 1:30 a.m. People were a bit peeved. And, a very plucky teenager of whom I am growing increasingly more impressed, decided enough was enough, and wandered over there to beg the cretins to have a little compassion for those in the neighborhood trying to sleep.
I swear, the image of a teenager begging drunk adults to keep it down will stay with me unto my last dying breath.
The drunken adults do, in fact, stop the drumming. However, about 30 minutes later, they start up the very loud and very illegal fireworks, intermittently firing them off until around 3:30 a.m. They woke babies. And several neighbors called the cops.
However, it took a while for our crack squad of keystone cops to catch the infidels, despite the noise and lights of an ongoing party on an otherwise very quiet and dark street.
This isn't the end of the story, however. It also seems that Ms. Party Crasher and her hubby had left their own party and gone to a bar - leaving their own children at home with God Knows Who in Charge.
That's the real scandal, in my opinion. Of course, if I had been home and wakened by the noise, I wouldn't have stopped with calling the police. I'd have called it in like a domestic dispute, claiming to have heard gun fire.
That might have lit a fire under their asses!
Labels: Birthday
