Using my mad google fu, I have figured out who owns the house across the street where perfectly lovely people used to live up til last fall, when the psycho circus moved in. I would send an anonymous letter, except that I feel I am supposed to be cool and laid back and not that kind of person, so I feel weird about it. I mean, hell, I'm a freaky weirdo myself who has had landlords and so on called on her multiple times. We freaks should stick together except that I am a) moderately sane and b) there are lines I do not and never have crossed: my kids and dogs have always been fed, immunized, cared for, sent to school and so on. Also I'm a little afraid of my neighbors and I do not want a letter to backfire badly just in case the landlord is their uncle or father or something, a situation which is common here.

The people across the street are - oh god, where to start? - well. They're, like, evil hippies. The woman who seems to be the primary tenant (it's difficult to tell when people show up randomly for various lengths of time at all hours) has about eight kids ranging in age from about two to about thirteen, all thin, filthy, dreadlocked, sullen and "homeschooled". Any number of other adults and cars and trucks come and go here and there. My ex used to fix her laptop and he said that the last time he'd talked to her she did indeed have seven kids. I think there are now at least eight.

They're fry guys - they go to festivals and sell french fries and stuff, so at least they are rarely home. This is what I thought when I first saw their bus and then I found a listing for their business on a festival vendor site, so I know my intuition was correct. They come and go randomly. They usually stay for a week or so and then take off again. Or other people we have never seen before show up and stay for a while and then leave. We kind of thought the place was a growhouse for a while, because there was nobody there for like three months but then a whole bunch of them showed up and had posted sentries - I swear to god, noncommunicatve guys (young hippies, banjos, beards, thin miserable dogs, etc.) who took turns just "hanging out" in front of the house in shifts, 24/7 - for about a week before they all disappeared. Mostly lately they leave the front door hanging wide open all day and night. The kids watch TV late and the walls are painted with a gazillion giant eyes.

So, you know, whatever and I feel sorry for the kids but I don't think they're being abused, just kind of neglected. And who am I to step into alternate cultures and complain? Then last week they showed back up with, this time, about seven dogs, two of which were puppies. The dogs roam the neighborhood - there's a fence but they can get out of it. My daughter rescued one of the puppies and brought it back twice. They just stared at her, took the dog and turned away. THEN the woman comes over here three times - all when I am not home, I do not think she wants to tangle with me and she is wise - and complained about how we park our cars and says she is going to complain to the city. She was highly unpleasant.

Now, you know, it is kinda on like donkey kong and I am going to send that damn letter. Or I was but then they disappeared again. Every time they disappear I hope they are gone forever. I can't figure out how the hell they're paying rent although I suspect that they are trustafari, another common Asheville theme. Or her family could be paying her to stay away.

Perhaps a picture is worth a thousand words:

≡ Click to see image ≡

They have since painted out the we sell drugs part (with a bunch of mostly kid drawn pictures of aliens, would almost be cute if it wasn't done so sort of randomly and unnervingly) and, this is wonderful, painted the words JESUS CAMP on top of the windshield. I believe THAT means somebody else complained. Yeah, saying Jesus Camp will totally save your life, lady. Yes she is clearly insane.

Footnote: No, I'm not calling social services. I know enough about local social services where I wouldn't call them for anything less than attempted murder. Just trust me on that one - the last thing these kids need is to be thrown into that system. The older ones would be tossed onto the street anyway: I have seen it happen. Honestly I wish it would help or do something but I am 99% sure one of two things would happen: 1) nothing and 2) things getting far worse.

Don't get me started. Seriously.

The best neighbour ever was killed on his motorcycle 2 weeks ago.

The shitbag crackhead benefit-fraudster hooker-abusing, bailiff-and-cop-attracting piece of scum upstairs still goes about his daily business without a care in the world.

As I am now one of the youngest/able-bodied residents in the close, it now falls to me, as Jamie is no longer with us, to do all the stuff for the old ladies like carrying their shopping, opening/closing garage doors and moving their wheelie bins. I don't mind that, but, damn, I miss Jamie, he was a good friend.

:(

holy cow, you guys are starting to make me feel like I should treasure the silly pack of airheads next door instead of grousing about them.

MGL, you want some daft college girls? I bet you could handle them so much better than I could. I'll be glad to ship 'em to you air freight. I'll even poke some holes in the box, and toss in a matched set of fratholes and a beer bong, free of charge!

I'll even trade you for the psycho circus if only because I know the rest of my neighbours would have our backs on the pack of feral children (and dogs).

Senyar, I am sorry about Jamie, really.

You know, mygothlaundry, re some of the behavior, I would call the police. (With you re DSHS, though.)

As for us -- in a nearby cul de sac rental, one roommate murdered another. New tenants in the house are quiet enough but have a little dog that we almost ran over the other night. This was weird, because we have a leash law in our area and it is obeyed, plus who lets out a tiny dog to roam alone at night? The dog was really unfriendly, too, as if never socialized. I knocked and knocked on their door, trying to get them to take their dog inside, and when on the verge of calling local animal services (reluctantly), one of the tenants came home. He said the dog "runs out." But another neighbor, who chatted with my husband, said that this happens all the time.

Oh well, compared to Senyar and mygothlaundry, our neighbors aren't that bad, but the folks in this rental house have me worried, at least about the welfare of their dog.

We just have a creepy dude neighbor who spies. He leaves his overhead garage door all the way up and sits waaaaay in the back of the garage in the shadows, where you can't see him from the street. My daughter is an attractive young lady, and he is clearly watching her. We call him Creepy McStalkerFreak, and we take all manner of precautions. He has a wife and kid and recently became re-employed so maybe he won't be around as much. Sick freak.

the walls are painted with a gazillion giant eyes.

Yikes. Wow mgl, I think they take the prize.

Creepy McStalkerFreak

toastedbeagle I LOL'd at this, even though it's not a funny situation.

None of our neighbors are even remotely as weird as you guys' above. We did have some chick slit her wrists once & her hubby, who is a doctor, dealt with it & kept the whole thing under wraps. He sold the place shortly after.

We had one other neighbor who developed addictions to all kinds of prescrip meds, claiming back problems with discs & panic attacks as her ailments. She befriended every person in the building who has ongoing medical issues so she could mooch morphine, percosets, whatever that crap Rush Limbaugh was taking & go knows what else. Hubby kicked her out about 3 months ago. That was after he paid $40k to send her to some rehab clinic in Phoenix where she hobknobbed with Heather Locklear (seriously).

Mrs chewie came home from work one day & saw her sitting in her car in the parking lot. They ended up riding the elevator together & mrs chewie said she could barely walk & way hanging on to the rail for dear life. Good thing she was driving!

It's more the absence of my neighbor that's intriguing. He never gave me any trouble; a couple of times, he would ask, "were we too loud last night?" And I would honestly answer, "no." One time I heard the cops outside because a gentleman guest wouldn't leave; the cop asked, "are you guys in a relationship?"; I did not hear the answer. He was in his 50s; I would sometimes see his 90-year-old parents visit him (they had a hard time walking), sometimes thinking, shouldn't he be visiting them?

So a year ago, he pleasantly informs me that he's moving to Chicago. Ever since then, there's been a plethora of foreclosure notices, envelopes from the sheriff's office and lawyers, business cards with handwritten notices threatening to visit him at his place of business, a flyer on the door stating this property is now controlled by such and such company, and an occasional realtor showing the place. (It's very flaming inside, which is fine but may limit the number of prospective buyers.)

Apparently, before the foreclosure, he tried renting the place to a pleasant, unsuspecting family with toddlers; they were forced to leave after only 6 months due to the foreclosure. Just the other day, I saw that his mailbox lock had been broken; there's been no notices or showings in a couple of months now, but it's still empty. I wonder what he's planning next?

In my last apartment the elderly man on the floor below mine used to walk up and down the stairwell at all hours of the night shouting random profanities at the world.

The neighbors at my new apartment seem pretty decent so far. Someone did, however, leave on the steps of the community center across the street a pizza box, wrapped in a flag and filled with suspicious-looking wires and also (as the police bomb squad found when they blew it up it after shutting down the surrounding blocks for a couple hours) with shit.

Our next door neighbour to the east is our odd one. He just doesn't seem quite all there. He never remembers the mister's name although he's been told many times. He rents out rooms to a series of even odder people. One of them used to pace the backyard chanting something we couldn't quite hear. Another ex-tenant would wander around in the front yard in a too small black silk robe. Another one would lurk in the backyard in the dark driving Kaylee (our dog) to bark. She won't go near any of them which tells me quite a bit. Kaylee is quite the discerning dog.

The neighbours on the west are fine. Kaylee doesn't bark at them or their dogs. They occasionally have a hot tub party that goes on late and loud, but that doesn't happen often enough to complain.

I feel rather lucky compared to the rest of you.

My neighbors across the street have 7 kids (they're a Brady Bunch-type blended family). But they're awesome! We went to a baseball game last weekend with the dad and son. Their son mowed our lawn when my husband was out of town, and one of their daughters cat-sit for us. The mom works occasionally at the same place I do, took one of my classes, and raved about my teaching skillz. They're just nice, down-to-earth, friendly people.

But in the place before this one, one of our neighbor's kids almost killed my daughter. She was playing at their house and when it was time to go, the strange 11-year-old older sibling convinced her to get in a Rubbermaid Roughtote with a bunch of stuffed animals and snapped the lid down on top of her. So she wouldn't have to leave. I searched the house with the mom for several minutes before she was found. She was gasping for air, totally red, when I pulled her out of that box.

The mom never apologized or even acknowledged in any way that what happened was seriously fucked up.

A few months later, the younger sibling had a broken arm, and mom and dad had a not-believable explanation for how it happened.

In my early 20s, I lived in cheap apartment above a man who was "neurologically challenged" in some way. When he spoke, every word came out like he was doing a Scooby Doo impression while screaming (I don't say this to poke fun or be cruel, I say this because that is REALLY what it sounded like, and so you can understand the situation to come). He watched sports constantly and would yell at the tv in that voice, which we could hear plainly from every room in the apartment. Annoying, but hey, the guy has problems. Cut him some slack. Then he started losing it at the least little noise we made, one time going into a complete shrieking freak-out for 15 minutes because my boyfriend walked across the living room to get a drink after 10pm.

Then he got a girlfriend.... and they did things... LOUDLY... with the screaming Scooby Doo voice.... in the bedroom below ours... and he liked to talk dirty... *shudder*

This was also the same building where the crazy fat woman who never bathed or changed her muumuu stopped me in the hall to say, "Oooooh! Mrs. Howell (she had decided this was my name... it's not, not even close) guess what I just saw??? A big poop coming out of a dog's butt!" and then cackled like a maniac as a ran down the hall away from the scary, smelly, floral print abomination.

There was also the ancient dude in the basement who always wore the same striped overalls and matching striped train engineer style hat who would sit in his broken down pickup truck all day long. As in at least 8 hrs straight.

Oh and the 87 year old woman across the hall who would chain smoke her Virginia Slims WHILE using her oxygen tank. She used to party with Hank Williams in Montgomery back in the 40s, and drank a bottle of Canadian Club a week. We were convinced she was going to pass out with that cigarette and blow the whole building to smithereens.

I swear, that building was like the Apartment Building of the Damned.

I searched the house with the mom for several minutes before she was found. She was gasping for air, totally red, when I pulled her out of that box.

That's terrifying. Holy crap.

We live on a corner lot, so only we only have neighbors on one side. We never hear them.

The end.

My neighbor who attacked his nanny (and is claiming she instigated it) was the lead story in a NY publication a few months ago. The ironic thing is that his wife has written some books of etiquette.

Our neigbours are great. We moved here when my SO's best friend did, as we bought the two side-by-side blocks together and are both building our own house. There are only seven houses in our street and we get together in the middle of the street every Christmas for drinks. But ... for a while one of the houses was owned by a young couple, the male of which quickly became known as 'DVO man' because of his tendency to smack his wife around. He also started to fill in the dam on his property, which forms part of a storm-water system that would put our place in danger of flooding if removed. We asked the council to investigate. He has a friend who works in the council. Friend gave him copies of our complaint as well as every other document on our file at the council. He wasn't happy with us and made it clear we better not mess with him or we'd be sorry. I believed him, mostly because he's one of those people with a crazy glint in his eye who you know is a ticking time-bomb.

After a Domestic Violence Order was put in place (hence the nickname), after his wife finally got smart and kicked him out, we would often see his truck across the main road, where he could see who came and went (he was not permitted within 50m of the house). One night, while driving past, I spotted him on the roof of the house when there was clearly nobody home (I called the police). Turns out he was breaking into the house through the roof to see if another man was living there. He got suspicious because he saw business shirts on the clothesline (which you can't see from the street ...) because his wife was doing washing for her father.

Proving that she actually hadn't got smart, she took him back and they sold the house and moved on. A nice family with a horse lives there now.

The end. For now.

Oh, one of the things I like best about our street is that everyone likes loud music. You can walk out in the street on a Saturday afternoon and hear Pink Floyd from our place, country music from across the street and Albanian Folk music from the Albanian family's place at the end of the street. When I say loud, I mean LOUD. And nobody ever complains. A few weeks ago, we were sitting around a fire in the backyard with pretty loud music playing at 11.30 pm and the lady across the street came over to join us after returning from a night out with friends. No complaints, just good neighbourly give-and-take.

Except for the hipsters next door who tried to have a party on our garage roof, we haven't to many neighbor issues. For an inner city neighborhood, it's pretty quiet here.

Man, we got lucky. We live upstairs from a youngish couple with three small children, and we almost NEVER hear them, except for the occasional screaming 2 year old. There's another youngish couple with kids next door, likewise well-behaved and quiet, and an older lady on the other side of us. Our biggest problem has been the older lady leaving the gate open while her dogs roam around and bark, and this has only happened approximately three times in 9 months. Oh, also our downstairs neighbor's cat peed on something in our shared basement. But yeah, that's it.

My neighbors totally rock. Oh yeah sure, I've not been a fan of some, but compared to yours, they're BLISS.

In fact, they are one of the reasons (apart from lack of funds) that I don't do something drastic like buy this beautiful gem of a house which is located near the school I plan on sending Perle to.

All the kids are the same age now, so Perle's bestest friend lives four doors down in the same building, and every weekend we put the main doors up and send the kids out. There's a little highway of children running in here to use the bathroom and drink water and maybe look at the turtle (since we're on the bottom floor and easiest to reach) all weekend which is great.

Lots of the guys are geeks, so when me and the dads are out, we're geeking away with new gadgets in a corner keeping an eye on the kids. When Miklas and the moms are out (I don't know why but this is the way it happens), they chat about baking or something (he loves to cook).

We have a lovely hippie-lady in the house of undetermined age who has lived here since the early 70s and has a two-room apartment with no toilet still - but plenty of tomato-plants, herbs and art on the walls. She's all grey, but bikes to work every day so her legs are toned like a twenty year olds (I'm jealous). Both her kids (20 and 24) are boxers and fit as hell, she's got genetics. We've been growing squash and berries in the garden this summer, and just yesterday the lovely hippie-lady dug up a fresh red onion for me as I was making dinner.

Y'all should move here.