Good neighbors

It seems to me that hardly anybody ever really likes their neighbors. Where I live, for example, on one side of my house is a church that once hired a roofer who dropped his truck on my house, and on the other side is a family which has stored the same old car in their backyard that was parked there when I moved in back in 1993.

But no matter how much you think you don’t like your neighbors and are ready to go find a new place to live, it could be worse.

For example, you could live next door to whoever donated a human skull to Goodwill in Austin the other day (and, if by chance you do live next door to them, please contact the authorities because they’re looking for ’em). The Austin owner of that skull probably died while still looking for affordable apartments for rent. In fact, here are apartments for rent in Dallas. Move there, because there are too many people moving here.

Or perhaps you live next door to somebody who likes to record his neighbors having loud sex? If not, perhaps you’re the one whose neighbors keep having loud sex, which you daydream about someday recording and posting online?

If so, you might want to be careful about who you record, because you might accidentally record your own loved one messing around with your neighbor, since according to this, there’s a 1-in-20 chance of that.

Then again, some people never move no matter how bad it gets. In fact, this guy stayed put so long in his cluttered rent-controlled apartment his loved ones can’t find where he put the papers so they can get their hands on his $18 million. Bummer.

Oh, you thought I was kidding when I said my neighbor’s truck fell on my house? Nope. It destroyed my newly-remodeled kitchen. If I’d been in the kitchen at the time, it would have destroyed me. The insurance company had to rebuild a quarter of my house, and my friend re-named the place “Casa Piñata.”

Neighbors can be a pain.

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