Such a gentle soul -

I miss him already. But time passes, the wheels turn and people move on - moving forward and beyond us.

We'll be neighbors again someday.

Meanwhile, I've got a complaint lodged against yet another one of my neighbors, two police calls later - would you believe an eco-nazi is after me?!

No, go ahead. Ask me. I dare you.

Such a gentle soul -

I miss him already. But time passes, the wheels turn and people move on - moving forward and beyond us.

We'll be neighbors again someday.

Meanwhile, I've got a complaint lodged against yet another one of my neighbors, two police calls later - would you believe an eco-nazi is after me?!

No, go ahead. Ask me. I dare you.

Such a gentle soul -

I miss him already. But time passes, the wheels turn and people move on - moving forward and beyond us.

We'll be neighbors again someday.

Meanwhile, I've got a complaint lodged against yet another one of my neighbors, two police calls later - would you believe an eco-nazi is after me?!

No, go ahead. Ask me. I dare you.

I WISH I could go see this ...

Amazing 'Grace': Chinese martial arts films

When I think of Chinese martial arts films, my mind goes not to a director like King Hu or a star like Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee or even to Ang Lee's breakthrough "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," which gave the genre a worldwide presence. I think instead of a waiter whose name I never learned in a hotel restaurant in the Chinese city of Kaifeng, where I spent a few days in the early 1980s.

Quentin Tarantino is opening the first night.

Fuck me.

I WISH I could go see this ...

Amazing 'Grace': Chinese martial arts films

When I think of Chinese martial arts films, my mind goes not to a director like King Hu or a star like Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee or even to Ang Lee's breakthrough "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," which gave the genre a worldwide presence. I think instead of a waiter whose name I never learned in a hotel restaurant in the Chinese city of Kaifeng, where I spent a few days in the early 1980s.

Quentin Tarantino is opening the first night.

Fuck me.

I WISH I could go see this ...

Amazing 'Grace': Chinese martial arts films

When I think of Chinese martial arts films, my mind goes not to a director like King Hu or a star like Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee or even to Ang Lee's breakthrough "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," which gave the genre a worldwide presence. I think instead of a waiter whose name I never learned in a hotel restaurant in the Chinese city of Kaifeng, where I spent a few days in the early 1980s.

Quentin Tarantino is opening the first night.

Fuck me.

Eco-Nazi

-or-

"You really shouldn't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry."

Promise.

You remember the day I spent last weekend cleaning my garage. One of the boxes I tossed into the dumpster contained styrofoam peanuts, remember? After tossing it, and after returning to my garage to continue, this...person arrived.

He's tall. THIN. Wearing teacup headphones over a knitted watch cap, birth-control glasses, and he's wearing something out of a Nirvana video for clothing.

Making the pretense for politeness, he says excuse me and then lays into me for dropping some of the styrofoam peanuts outside of the dumpster. When I attempt to respond, he talks over me and gets REALLY annoying.

But I pick up all the peanuts I can find, anyway. Hey, it's a valid request, even if he's a dick.

I have no urgent need to ever talk to this creep again.

Tuesday night, we drive into the complex to find a mattress and box springs sitting in the middle of the driveway. Jim and I are pretty cool about this - I go in while he tries to scoot the stuff back into the dumpster area.

Dickweed appears and confronts Jim. Jim comes back in and tells me he can't do anything.

So I go out. You can't leave a mattress and box springs in the middle of the driveway. It's fire lane. It's a lot of things.

He informs me in no uncertain terms that somebody was attempting illegal dumping and he was going to drag that stuff into the middle of the complex and spray paint all over it and make a big stink.

That's when I threw up the hand, walked away and called the cops.

When the cops showed up, he decided to get verbal with them. Uh, the cops don't like this, BTW. The first response called for backup.

I asked the cop if it was okay to put the stuff in the dumpster. He said yes, and I did it while he was standing there. We then went inside...while the two cop cars sat there and watched Fuckchop.

It was still in the dumpster when we left for work the next day. We got home Wednesday, and the box springs is sitting outside the dumpster...spray painted with a nasty gram.

I call the cops again and inform them that he did *exactly* what he said he was going to do. However, this is where I step out. It wasn't my stuff he pulled out of the dumpster, and this is no longer my problem. I call the HOA.

Leaving all the information (including the file numbers for both police calls), I go to bed. This morning, I called them again and followed up.

This evening, I have a voicemail asking for more details. Oh, he's going to get fined...and charged with having that stuff dragged away.

Next time, work with your neighbors. Idiot.

He was dealing with the one and only Green Party member in the county, after all.

I will be so glad to get out of here.

Eco-Nazi

-or-

"You really shouldn't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry."

Promise.

You remember the day I spent last weekend cleaning my garage. One of the boxes I tossed into the dumpster contained styrofoam peanuts, remember? After tossing it, and after returning to my garage to continue, this...person arrived.

He's tall. THIN. Wearing teacup headphones over a knitted watch cap, birth-control glasses, and he's wearing something out of a Nirvana video for clothing.

Making the pretense for politeness, he says excuse me and then lays into me for dropping some of the styrofoam peanuts outside of the dumpster. When I attempt to respond, he talks over me and gets REALLY annoying.

But I pick up all the peanuts I can find, anyway. Hey, it's a valid request, even if he's a dick.

I have no urgent need to ever talk to this creep again.

Tuesday night, we drive into the complex to find a mattress and box springs sitting in the middle of the driveway. Jim and I are pretty cool about this - I go in while he tries to scoot the stuff back into the dumpster area.

Dickweed appears and confronts Jim. Jim comes back in and tells me he can't do anything.

So I go out. You can't leave a mattress and box springs in the middle of the driveway. It's fire lane. It's a lot of things.

He informs me in no uncertain terms that somebody was attempting illegal dumping and he was going to drag that stuff into the middle of the complex and spray paint all over it and make a big stink.

That's when I threw up the hand, walked away and called the cops.

When the cops showed up, he decided to get verbal with them. Uh, the cops don't like this, BTW. The first response called for backup.

I asked the cop if it was okay to put the stuff in the dumpster. He said yes, and I did it while he was standing there. We then went inside...while the two cop cars sat there and watched Fuckchop.

It was still in the dumpster when we left for work the next day. We got home Wednesday, and the box springs is sitting outside the dumpster...spray painted with a nasty gram.

I call the cops again and inform them that he did *exactly* what he said he was going to do. However, this is where I step out. It wasn't my stuff he pulled out of the dumpster, and this is no longer my problem. I call the HOA.

Leaving all the information (including the file numbers for both police calls), I go to bed. This morning, I called them again and followed up.

This evening, I have a voicemail asking for more details. Oh, he's going to get fined...and charged with having that stuff dragged away.

Next time, work with your neighbors. Idiot.

He was dealing with the one and only Green Party member in the county, after all.

I will be so glad to get out of here.

Eco-Nazi

-or-

"You really shouldn't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry."

Promise.

You remember the day I spent last weekend cleaning my garage. One of the boxes I tossed into the dumpster contained styrofoam peanuts, remember? After tossing it, and after returning to my garage to continue, this...person arrived.

He's tall. THIN. Wearing teacup headphones over a knitted watch cap, birth-control glasses, and he's wearing something out of a Nirvana video for clothing.

Making the pretense for politeness, he says excuse me and then lays into me for dropping some of the styrofoam peanuts outside of the dumpster. When I attempt to respond, he talks over me and gets REALLY annoying.

But I pick up all the peanuts I can find, anyway. Hey, it's a valid request, even if he's a dick.

I have no urgent need to ever talk to this creep again.

Tuesday night, we drive into the complex to find a mattress and box springs sitting in the middle of the driveway. Jim and I are pretty cool about this - I go in while he tries to scoot the stuff back into the dumpster area.

Dickweed appears and confronts Jim. Jim comes back in and tells me he can't do anything.

So I go out. You can't leave a mattress and box springs in the middle of the driveway. It's fire lane. It's a lot of things.

He informs me in no uncertain terms that somebody was attempting illegal dumping and he was going to drag that stuff into the middle of the complex and spray paint all over it and make a big stink.

That's when I threw up the hand, walked away and called the cops.

When the cops showed up, he decided to get verbal with them. Uh, the cops don't like this, BTW. The first response called for backup.

I asked the cop if it was okay to put the stuff in the dumpster. He said yes, and I did it while he was standing there. We then went inside...while the two cop cars sat there and watched Fuckchop.

It was still in the dumpster when we left for work the next day. We got home Wednesday, and the box springs is sitting outside the dumpster...spray painted with a nasty gram.

I call the cops again and inform them that he did *exactly* what he said he was going to do. However, this is where I step out. It wasn't my stuff he pulled out of the dumpster, and this is no longer my problem. I call the HOA.

Leaving all the information (including the file numbers for both police calls), I go to bed. This morning, I called them again and followed up.

This evening, I have a voicemail asking for more details. Oh, he's going to get fined...and charged with having that stuff dragged away.

Next time, work with your neighbors. Idiot.

He was dealing with the one and only Green Party member in the county, after all.

I will be so glad to get out of here.