here is a couple of images to describe my crazy bogan neighbor....she is in between the two in a few ways, first of all she wears the tight clothes but they are sometimes coloured with crazy fabric art as her entire body is.....with the purchase of a tattoo gun her and her equally crazy defacto husband had been creating a collage of robins, hearts with scrolls, sea scape scenes and unicorns all over her body. She swears like a motherf*&ing c^%t . She shows the signs of a nearing middle aged alcoholic bong toking mother of six in a relationship that far exceeds my own pearlers. enter-------> handsome gretel, babes in toylandhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Erw10riWEA4
Upon my first cup of tea there I have taken away the saying "don't talk to me like that, you piece of shit *pause* love ya darls" to her defacto. I can't actually remember what he said as it was not really that provoking....just a mumbled yes dear *sarcastic undertone* I have quoted this quite often and thought it was a joke.....but she did say it with such venom....I will never know if it was a joke but a way of life
She lives in a cul de sac which intersects two doors up from me, having been there for ten years myself I had discovered in the last two years that she had been there for eight years in the "Gaza Strip" which I didn't even notice was there until her children were old enough to stray from the strip to my place....the cul de sac has nearly all housing commision homes bar one or two out of around twenty, a small oasis of displaced families in an otherwise very quiet well sought after inner suburb...I had always wondered why there was a lot of screaming, the sound of animals being tortured, burnouts and wheelies, and lovers tiffs while passing my house (I fucking love yoooooooou!!! followed by a car screeching off and indeed followed more by louder more desperate I FUCKING LOOOOOVE YOOOOOOUUUU!!!!!) Still unaware for the ten years I consider myself fairly fortunate that I haven't "befriended" any of the more high turnover families (since the torturing animal noises and wheelies seem to only be around every so often in six monthly clumps).
Anyway...back to the crazy bogan neighbor...sometime in November I was accosted at my front door by shouting crazy bogan neighbor telling me I was lucky she hadn't come around when she was drunk to tell me what she had to say......that she could see why I hadn't sent my kids around to see her kids to punish her somehow....I was so shocked that I forgot to tell her that my son had been in hospital for gastro and just ended up shouting at her to get the fuck out of my house after twenty minutes of her standing over me threatening to punch me in my kitchen....such the way it is :) enter again ------> you fucked up, ween
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azuS2RCAQHE
She had split up from her crazy bogan defacto a couple of weeks before....it was obvious to me that it really wasn't about me so I tolerated the rantings outside my house "your so fucking lucky mole I didn't come around when I was pissed the other night as I closed the door in her face and went about daily chores.......it was a couple of weeks after a sheepish drunken visit I was told that I wasn't the only one she had to apologise to....there was another lady in her street who she had beaten up and another who I suspect was the one I overheard her screaming "you motherfucking slagholed cunt" to.....
I was of course a little reticent about sending my children around to her place after that and it was rather annoying having all the neighborhood kids at my place....I remember a time in September when I had a cold which turned into a pneumococcal infection which in turn transformed it's lovely self into pneumonia and pluerisy...I counted twelve children roaming around, having tea parties and re-arranging my furniture to make cubbies with all of my doonas and blankets and spreading the ever present infestation of head lice just that little bit faster....memories linger of the horror folks and I was starting to think my children were actualy beginning to start talking the bogan language (yes was transforming to yih, Monday was turning into mundeee) ....so it was time for affirmative action!!.....I asked my children to not go visiting and allowed the other children here only long enough for us to get ready to take our family pet to the river for a run....
This went on for a couple of tentative but glorious couple of weeks of spending time saying monday and yes until a Saturday 9 am visit from the 3 usual kids aged 4 to 9 came to the door and asked to come in....my son answered the door while I sat where I was and said that it was spend the day with mum day and they went home crying. A few minutes later I recieved a barrage of text messages saying that I had slammed the door in her kids faces and that she was coming around to get me....is you fucked up by ween still playing?? play it again :)
So I called the childrens father just in case I was murdered in front of my family and needed a witness....the beauty of this situation is that she will twirl and flick her hair every time he is around and try not to swear like a mutherf&^%ng C&^t.....So as a matter of conflict resolution she toned it down to put downs about my dog the "state" of my yard and said I was lucky that children's father was there.....I sat and listened like before for about another 20 minutes until her voice got louder and louder with of course not many interjections by me for at this juncture I knew it was like pissing into a great ocean.
It was then after the 20 minutes that I said I would like it if the children had no contact between houses and that "you stay the hell away from me because you are full of shit and treat me like I am your husband.....just to be sure we know where we are at I would like you to know again, this is not about your kids but you. You're crazy, and I am not your husband."
Dutifully ushered home by the kids dad another half hour passed and he arrived back for debriefing, assuring me that I had done the right thing in calling in help. It was further discussed while he was there with her children and brought to light that I indeed was not near the front door when it wasn't actually slammed.
what I can take away from this exercise is;
figure out whether my humour indeed matches another's humour
"don't talk to me like that, you piece of shit *pause* love ya darls"
I thought this was cute but on further reflection brings about a whole world of my cute to OMFG they are SO not cute.
never jump to conclusions when a child cries...I actually knew this when I was 12!! But it always helps to revise.
listen out more for neighborhood shenanigans and maybe you will become aware that you are living next to the Gaza Strip....forewarned is forearmed
I never fell asleep at her place but I wouldn't advise it just in case you woke up with a unicorn tattooed on your face ....again forewarned is forearmed.
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