Moving Means Slamming

This was a big weekend of packing, cleaning and throwing crap away for my neighbors who I don't like. And it has also entailed more slammed doors than could be reasonably counted. Seriously, yesterday they were slamming a door every minute or so. I'm not quite sure why but I've learned there's a fair bit of displeasure in this whole ordeal.

You see, there's history, bitterness, familial backstabbing and some good ol' fashioned stupidity.

The wife left many months ago now, caught in flagrante with a cop who's since made her Mrs. Cop. And the daughter, who looks quite alot like the wife, got quite alot of the bitterness got directed at her. She got tired of bearing the brunt of his ire and moved out. Which was fine since the oldest boy got a girl pregnant and had to move in with her three year old girl.

And the dad works all the time, all over the Bay area and the two boys are not in school and don't really have any prospects aside from work and possibly banging.

But tomorrow's the start of the workweek so hopefully the door slamming will be minimized. Tomorrow is also my birthday, which means today is my brother's anniversary. Tomorrow is also an anniversary, five years gone now. Doesn't seem like it.

But anyway, at least the doors have stopped slamming for now.

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