Here I am, sitting on the roof, listening to Train's "Calling All Angels", when I hear some guy spitting profanities at this other guy, and the 40 something girlfriend attempting to stop it. Up till that point, I was mulling over some profound thoughts to myself about music and the impact that it has on our lives, so you can see how a conversation whose vocabulary was based on the words "fuck" and "shit" sent me into a fit of silent histerics. It was our own private Jerry Springer.
I didn't come in at the beginning of this public disterbance so I'm still not sure what it was about. All I know was that it was between "Piece of Shit" and "Mother Fucker", or atleast that's what they addressed eachother as. I believe Mother Fucker was the one with the girlfriend whose name was never spoken so I just decided to call her "Squeaker Blonde" after her Barbie hair cut and mouse like voice. To this day, she still reminds me of the woman on "Mars Attacks" taht had her head sewn onto the body of her dog.
The arguement continued without any increase or decrease in the two men's tempers, when I heard one yell out, with somewhat more conviction then his previous words, "I'LL CALL THE POLICE!" That was the straw that broke the camel's back, for me and them. For me, the statement was so hillarious taht the built up laughter ended up being released in two, clearly audible snorts. Squeaker Blonde snatched up her boyfriend's arm and dragged him back to their miniscule Spectacle of Lights, much like an owner would dray their dog from a treed cat.
I know these people are over-the-hill 40 & 50-Somethings with a desire to be younger but I never thougth they'd stoop to the level of 5 and 6 year olds. This was a despute similar to the things that I did in early grade school, only with a less colorful vocabulary. I have expected them to say, "I'll tell teacher!" instead of, "I'll call the police!". First graders have the capabilities of reasoning that my neighbors have. (I appoligize 1st graders. What I said was somewhat demening for you.)
As the fun was breaking up, I turned back to watch the spectacle at hand, whispering sarcastically, "Happy 4th of July to you, too."
I didn't come in at the beginning of this public disterbance so I'm still not sure what it was about. All I know was that it was between "Piece of Shit" and "Mother Fucker", or atleast that's what they addressed eachother as. I believe Mother Fucker was the one with the girlfriend whose name was never spoken so I just decided to call her "Squeaker Blonde" after her Barbie hair cut and mouse like voice. To this day, she still reminds me of the woman on "Mars Attacks" taht had her head sewn onto the body of her dog.
The arguement continued without any increase or decrease in the two men's tempers, when I heard one yell out, with somewhat more conviction then his previous words, "I'LL CALL THE POLICE!" That was the straw that broke the camel's back, for me and them. For me, the statement was so hillarious taht the built up laughter ended up being released in two, clearly audible snorts. Squeaker Blonde snatched up her boyfriend's arm and dragged him back to their miniscule Spectacle of Lights, much like an owner would dray their dog from a treed cat.
I know these people are over-the-hill 40 & 50-Somethings with a desire to be younger but I never thougth they'd stoop to the level of 5 and 6 year olds. This was a despute similar to the things that I did in early grade school, only with a less colorful vocabulary. I have expected them to say, "I'll tell teacher!" instead of, "I'll call the police!". First graders have the capabilities of reasoning that my neighbors have. (I appoligize 1st graders. What I said was somewhat demening for you.)
As the fun was breaking up, I turned back to watch the spectacle at hand, whispering sarcastically, "Happy 4th of July to you, too."
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