I already hate them

I have decided that I just plain don't like my neighbors. They technically only moved in about three weeks ago. I wanted to like them but it just ain't workin'. As I pulled into my driveway today I realized that my eyes do not roll far enough back into my head to express my feeling toward them. I spend a good amount of time looking out my window and shaking my head at them.

The first time I met the wife, we stood in my driveway and tried to make nice-nice. After about 30 seconds of "conversation" I realized we were both standing there with our arms totally folded in front of us. Not a damn thing to talk about. Yep. We were not going to be friends. Husband's a piece of work. He now has 2 ATV's and a mini dirtbike for his 7 year old son (always a good idea) and they take them out in the desert behind my house, which I have a lovely clear view of, and ride around loudly while swearing. This is exactly what I want to experience as I sit pool side. What boggles my mind is the thought process involved here. Phoenix is the 6th largest city in the nation with the fastest growth rate. Does this guy actually believe that there is just land out there, not owned by a damn soul, just waiting for him to recreate in? Either he's stupid or he just doesn't give a shit. Whatever the case may be, it's not endearing.

Every time I come home they have some new item of god-only-knows-what that they are bringing into the home. Today, I pulled up and there was this painting. Oh Lord. I have no idea who the woman was in the painting but if someone painted me and I saw looked like that I would move to a very small village in a little known African country and hide. And this painting was large. Very very large. I'm sure it will be hung by the only window in their house that I can see from my house.

I have half the mind to plan some mildly annoying retaliation. Nothing overly obnoxious but just annoying enough to make me feel better. I have an iPod, iTunes, and speakers and I know how to use them. Nothing mean spirited. Maybe just routinely playing something like, oh, I don't know, Tom Jones's "It's Not Unsual," quite loudly with the windows open, each day when I get home from work.