Circa 1990 - 1999. My worst years of living around weird neighbors.

Right across my house’ front yard, lived a spinster in her late 30’s codenamed FatMary… and her lunatic dog, Barney.

Why was she weird? Well, she fucking talked to her psychotic dog, that’s why. I mean, not like “Sit !” or “Eat!” that kind of talk. She would talk to her dog elaborately like it was her lover or something. And when Barney fails to answer her back, she would yell at it - “Barney! why you no answer me ??” (yep, she loves to shout around her house in broken English to that garbage hound). I had been crudely awakened from countless of sleeps and naps with her yelling around like that - there was simply no peace at all living next to her.

Her dog Barney, was also a retarded lifeform like FatMary. It was a mongrel that was born without a brain and an amplified bark loudspeaker connected directly to a biological motion sensor. The product was Barney, a bark machine that would bark at anything that moves - cats, lizards, chickens, ants, FatMary… you name it. It would bark day and night without rest.

It was particularly frustrating for me especially when I came home late & supposed to be in a stealth mode (you know, I was still too young for discos and stuff)… only to wake the entire neighborhood when Barney fucking barked like there was no tomorrow when I touch the gate.

It was my teen-hood trauma - for not being able to grow up like any other normal teenagers. Each time I had my dose of fun at clubs/discos, my mom would always find out and gave me mind numbing lectures. Thanks to Barney the goddamn psychotic dog.

There was once, my father got so frustrated with Barney… that he actually hurled his then Motorola MicroTac (known to be an effective weapon against anything) to the dog. It hit Barney square on the head and had it hiding in the cage for days.

Well, the fucker dog was still around when I moved out from the neighborhood in 1999. I remember giving the dog a few pelts of slingshots before leaving the place — as a token of appreciation for the hundreds of sleepless nights it had given to me throughout the years.

I’ve never had a normal neighbor before. I’ve had many neighbors, and they were all either psychotic or dipshits.

I know some of you smartasses might say that the problem probably lies with me instead of them. Ok, maybe it has all along been me - but then, how could I be so wretched when all I ever did was to keep quiet and mind my own business? So, obviously, this isn’t about me. It’s about them degenerates.

One of the most wretched neighbor that I ever had was that old Indian lady that lived next to my family circa 1990 - 1999. We didn’t know much about her except that she was an immigrant from India and doesn’t speak any of our local language here. That wasn’t really a problem for us because we didn’t give a flying fuck about her.

But there was something not right about this old Indian hag. She had this penchant of rearing chickens in her yard… which was only a thin fence’s away from our garden. It wouldn’t be an issue at all had her chickens been behaving normal. But then, her chickens seemed to have somekind of dysfunctional biological clocks… that made them cluck and crow boisterously day/night without stop.

Imagine about 20 over chickens doing the same thing. They were like having their own heavy metal concert at every fucking awakening moment. I was especially affected by her chickens because the thing was right in front of my room window! With the odor and noise stressing my patience everyday, it wasn’t long before I started to lose my shit and took some initiatives of my own to settle the problem. When the chickens got really noisy, I would spray them with water jets from my garden hose. It didn’t really help with the noise but, it kind of helped me to vent out properly and averted myself from imploding with rage.

Then, after about a couple of years going through the same thing, the situation got worst. The old hag started to feed her chickens with stale rice and rotten dishes that she collected from around the village. And when the chickens couldn’t them all in time, the food would decompose and would emanate some fetid stench around the area. It was fucking horrible. If you want to imagine how was it like, just think of living next to a big garbage dump full of rotten organic stuff.

My mom once got so pissed off, that she bought a container full of toxic floor cleaner and poured it into the chicken feed - in hope that it would kill the chickens. But the effort was futile. The chickens seemed to oblivious to any kind of threat, and would live on getting healthier each day (and noisier).

Then not long after that, she began to collect pieces of discarded zinc roofs in her yard. It didn’t take very long for that place to become a haven for rats, roaches and other vermin alike. It was the darkest period for our family right then.

Of course, my parents attempted to talk to the Indian hag about the problems, but each time my parents did that, the old misfit would shun us off… pretending not being able to understand our language. And we had to live with the inconveniences of being her neighbor for a few more years, before our family got into a big ass feud and everyone moved the fuck out of the wretched hellhole.

Today, someone slipped a note under my mom’s car wiper that reads :

“Pls be considerate to other residents”

It was written in a very bad handwriting. My mom’s car was parked under the main porch of our apartment - but it did not block anyone’s right of way there.

That was why I got really ticked off reading the crudely written note. I was ticked off particularly at the word ‘considerate’ written in there. I knew it was written by that sadistic fat Indian bastard who always complain about everyone who parks under the porch. It’s inconsiderate, he said. Inconsiderate because he has a very ill father who could collapse anytime, and if it were to rain, he’d need to porch for the ambulance to stop.

But fuck, if it is a life threatening situation for his father, the ambulance could have stopped ANY-FUCKING-WHERE, right?? What is a drop or two of rain to exchange for your life?! And guess what? The fucker himself always park at that spot, right under that porch, where his fat Naza Ria would block 40% way, which is way worst that anyone else… Is that what he calls considerate??

And as if it wasn’t ironic enough, his car was parked at the carwash lot… the time I discovered the note under my mom’s wiper. Is that considerate?

His son … that goes around making weird noises around the apartment block… is that considerate ?

He always complain about others, but never take a look back at himself. Whenever his car is under that porch, it’s always the right thing to do, just because his father is sick (even though the old man’s not traveling with him). And if anyone else were to do that, he would stuck a note under that person’s wiper. How considerate.

I was about to wreck that fucker’s fat piece of junk vehicle up when I saw the note… but my conscience woke me up. I realized that I should not make it any worse for a motherfucker who has a brain the size 1/10th of my testicle. It will be like beating up a cripple with my abled limbs.

Let’s just see if he pisses me off again… and I’m going to make sure his fat car has more holes on it. Fucking neighbors.

I was awakened by a violent knock on my front door this morning. Still suffering the hangover from the drinking binge the night before, I lazily schlepped over to answer the knock. It was an Indian lady… whom I recognized as the bitch neighbor who lives 2 floors beneath my apartment.

Me : “Yeah ?”

Bitch : “Eh… itu kereta nombor XXX kamu punya?”
[translation: is that car with the number XXX yours?]

Me : “Ermm yeah… it is my mom’s car. What seems to be the problem?”

Bitch : “You boleh adjust itu kereta ka?? Itu tempat untuk orang cuci kereta… kereta saya tak boleh masuk!”
[can you adjust your car?? That's a carwash lot and I need to wash my car!]

Apparently, my ignorant mother parked at the carwash lot again, and she had gone out with my aunt. But I did not have her car keys with me at that time, so there was nothing I can do about the car. And that bitch wanted to wash her car, like, very desperately.

She was looking very pissed and was very rude when talked to me. Actually, I was not any less pissed too - partly because I was deprived of sleep, and secondly, she was yelling at me. But since I do not want any troubles, I tried to play it nice as I do not want to be ‘the unfriendly guy in the neighborhood’.

Me : “I’m really sorry about that but, my mom’s not in and I do not have her car key. Anyway, I’ll make sure she’s informed and move her car promptly.”

Bitch : “Ok”

And she left. I immediately called my mom on her cellphone after that, and gave her a good scolding. She told me that she was on her way home and it shouldn’t be long. So, I went back to my sleep. About 5 minutes later, I was crudely awakened again… this time, it was somebody honking the car. I went out to check the commotion, it was the same Indian bitch. She was honking her car like a lunatic, behind my mom’s static automobile.

Me : [irated] “What do you want?”

Bitch : “Eh… lu tak mau adjust lu mia kereta ke??”
[Eh... why haven't you adjust your car yet??]

I was fucking pissed.

Me : “Didn’t I just tell you, I do not have the fucking keys! What do you want me to do now?? Why can’t you hold back your oh-so-important mission to wash your car until my mom comes back??”

Bitch : “Orang nak cuci kereta… tiap kali kena naik rumah kamu untuk cakap! Susah macam ni!”
[Each time I want to wash my car, I'll have to come up to your place to ask you move your car! This isn't right!]

Me : [super fucking pissed] “Go fuck yourself”

But I think she did not hear my cuss. What I could not understand was, why couldn’t she just fucking wait? I already told her I do not have the fucking key to my mom’s car. I wonder what was she expecting me to do, burn my mom’s car to ashes so that she can use the carwash lot??

And her car is just a 10 over years old Proton junk. And she fucking washes her car a few times a week… what kind of sadistic creature would wash its car a few times a week? (I only washes mine a few times A YEAR. And my car is much more expensive than her’s…) Only an uneducated yokel like her would do that (that explains why she couldn’t communicate in English…)

I hope this would be the last time of our encounter. The next time she yells or honks at me, I’m gonna wreck her fucking car up so bad that she won’t be able to wash it ever again in her miserable life.