Very inconsiderate neighbours

Sometimes living with inconsiderate neighbours (I no longer relate myself with them) can make one real frustrated and mad.

Imagine one who turn one area into a made-do incineration plant and happily contribute to air pollution by not disposing dry leaves (even some rubbish) but burning them instead. You see, they say they don’t feel/smell anything when we complained (what the fish!!!) but they never thought about those living upstairs? The latter will suffer incredibly on a damned hot day in addition to their kind contribution of suffocating burning smell that rises together with hot air. Maybe I should bring out my brother’s water pressure gun that’s collecting dust in the storeroom… and squirt at it next time! I may even lodge a complaint to the authorities. Please don’t test my patience (especially so when I have a very sensitive nose and a blocked one that’s functioning at less than 80% efficiency).

Imagine one who literally leaves (maybe the word 'throws' would be more appropriate) her stuff around and near your door so much so that you have difficulty opening your door without knocking into those things that are lying around. Well… well… if they are so unimportant, maybe I should take this opportunity to practice my goal-kicking skills and my basket-ball aiming skills (get what I mean!).

Imagine one who knows how to grow this and that trees but don’t know how to maintain… If not for the secret trimmings, the tree branches and leaves would have been part of our interior design.

Imagine one who grows a large pot of plant (this one comes with thorns) and places it so very close to the driveway that will potentially cause free temporary “line tattoos” on the unwary residents (who had to get pass a narrow passage between the parked car and the thorny plant), and threaten to leave unsightly scars on the cars if they are parked too close to it. There was once when I got a “scratch” on my arms that made me so mad that I bent some parts of the plant (I didn’t kill it… keke… poor plant… but who asked you have such an irritable owner who thinks that the whole damned place belonged to her).

Imagine one who almost got our whole house burnt down… she just left the stewing of meat (probably will take a few hours) unattended and went out thinking that it is safe. If not for my mum who smelled something wrong... Wah lao eh… and we had to get another person to be our witness so that she won’t accuse us of one thing or another when all we wanted to do is to stop the cooking of the dry meat in the pot. Idiot.

Imagine one who only knows how to talk and accuse… yesterday evening my dad accidentally reversed and run over a black cat that didn’t move away (evening and black probably doesn’t have much contrast). I think this black cat is sick because the night before, I had to get out of car to direct it away from my path – they just sit in their living room and watch (wonderfool, thxs huh!). You see when things happened – they then confronted my dad to ask why he purposely run over the cat… what the f*** (sorrie, I’m just very angry that my dad was wrongly accused). These bastards only pretend to feel for the street cat only when it’s dead. Damned. If you really care for this cat, it should be given proper status (given a name or be allowed into your home and not addressed with the general name of “cat”), it would not be feeding on your leftovers, it would not be left to sleep in the open, it would not be left to fend for itself when it’s sick… My dad is inevitably depressed. We can’t stop those idiots from speculating and gossiping… what’s important is that it’s an accident (waiting to happen? I think they should know better). And of course, after what had happened, they only know how to exercise their eye-power...

Nice people don’t mean they don’t bite. We do if we are pushed to the limits.