Thump the Penis
8:00 Sunday morning.
Sleeping, sleeping, nice and snuggy.
Suddenly a wall of noise comes roaring into your dreams, sending you bolt upright with the adrenaline rushing straight to your heart and brain, pounding and throbbing and "Jesusmaryandjoseph, what the HELL???"
Ah.
The next-door neighbor is thumping his penis again.
Yes, my neighbor has a big penis, and he wants the world to know it.
He shows it off every chance he can get, proving he is more virile and powerful than any other man. Right now he's proving it with his leaf-blower, which is a bigger, longer leaf-blower than what the other man-neighbors have. Louder, too, because he's turbo-fied the motor.
He doesn't just use it in his own yard, he takes it up and down the street, blowing detritus from everyone else's yards, ostensibly to do an act of kindness, but we know it's really so we can see how big his penis is.
Grunt.
Later he'll take out his big, powerful, lawn-mower and mow his teeny, tiny backyard. He'll water that eensy-weensy backyard with his power-sprinklers, sending water against my garage.
He hardly ever uses a regular-type hose (but when he does, he uses a head on it which directs more powerful jets of water than the rest of ours); instead, he uses a pressure-washer, for EVERYTHING. It rained yesterday, and he was out there, pressure-washing his great, big, powerful truck. Then he pressure-washed his driveway. His pressure-washer is a commercial model so it can make more noise. He even pressure-washed his little, bare front yard, to push out the weeds that his power-sprayer sprayed the Round-up on two weeks ago.
He'll use his chainsaw (big and powerful) to trim unwanted branches from his skinny trees, and then he'll use his weed-trimmer (also big and powerful) to neaten his bushes and flowerbeds.
Maybe he'll pull out his power tools and power-cut, power-drill, and power-sand himself a new gate. He'll do it at the front of his driveway, because if he does it in the garage, no one will be able to see his penis.
Uh-oh. The man-neighbor across the street has come outside to watch.
The penis-thumping (aka "dick-banging") has begun.
Grunt, grunt.
Neighbor-across-the-street will never be able to outdo next-door-neighbor, though, because he has a wenis, not a penis.
His tools aren't as loud or obnoxious as next-door's. HE doesn't have a pressure-washer, and his truck is an older model, with a camper shell. It's not even an SUV, it only pretends to be one.
He comes out with his lawnmower. Next-door-neighbor sees him and goes across the street, leaf-blower waving and shooting, and starts up a conversation, while neighbor-across-the-street yanks his lawnmower into life. Yank. Yank. Ahh. There it goes. Too bad it only putt-putts, compared with next-door's more powerful model.
Next-door returns home, finishes the leaf-blowing, and goes and gets a very tall ladder, setting it up next to the house. He climbs the ladder, but can't quite get onto the roof.
He goes back to across-the-street's, and says something over the roar of the lawnmower still running, then goes back home.
What's this? Across-the-street is coming over with HIS ladder.
Oh, my! I think I'm going to swoon.
It's an EXTENSION LADDER!
Sleeping, sleeping, nice and snuggy.
Suddenly a wall of noise comes roaring into your dreams, sending you bolt upright with the adrenaline rushing straight to your heart and brain, pounding and throbbing and "Jesusmaryandjoseph, what the HELL???"
Ah.
The next-door neighbor is thumping his penis again.
Yes, my neighbor has a big penis, and he wants the world to know it.
He shows it off every chance he can get, proving he is more virile and powerful than any other man. Right now he's proving it with his leaf-blower, which is a bigger, longer leaf-blower than what the other man-neighbors have. Louder, too, because he's turbo-fied the motor.
He doesn't just use it in his own yard, he takes it up and down the street, blowing detritus from everyone else's yards, ostensibly to do an act of kindness, but we know it's really so we can see how big his penis is.
Grunt.
Later he'll take out his big, powerful, lawn-mower and mow his teeny, tiny backyard. He'll water that eensy-weensy backyard with his power-sprinklers, sending water against my garage.
He hardly ever uses a regular-type hose (but when he does, he uses a head on it which directs more powerful jets of water than the rest of ours); instead, he uses a pressure-washer, for EVERYTHING. It rained yesterday, and he was out there, pressure-washing his great, big, powerful truck. Then he pressure-washed his driveway. His pressure-washer is a commercial model so it can make more noise. He even pressure-washed his little, bare front yard, to push out the weeds that his power-sprayer sprayed the Round-up on two weeks ago.
He'll use his chainsaw (big and powerful) to trim unwanted branches from his skinny trees, and then he'll use his weed-trimmer (also big and powerful) to neaten his bushes and flowerbeds.
Maybe he'll pull out his power tools and power-cut, power-drill, and power-sand himself a new gate. He'll do it at the front of his driveway, because if he does it in the garage, no one will be able to see his penis.
Uh-oh. The man-neighbor across the street has come outside to watch.
The penis-thumping (aka "dick-banging") has begun.
Grunt, grunt.
Neighbor-across-the-street will never be able to outdo next-door-neighbor, though, because he has a wenis, not a penis.
His tools aren't as loud or obnoxious as next-door's. HE doesn't have a pressure-washer, and his truck is an older model, with a camper shell. It's not even an SUV, it only pretends to be one.
He comes out with his lawnmower. Next-door-neighbor sees him and goes across the street, leaf-blower waving and shooting, and starts up a conversation, while neighbor-across-the-street yanks his lawnmower into life. Yank. Yank. Ahh. There it goes. Too bad it only putt-putts, compared with next-door's more powerful model.
Next-door returns home, finishes the leaf-blowing, and goes and gets a very tall ladder, setting it up next to the house. He climbs the ladder, but can't quite get onto the roof.
He goes back to across-the-street's, and says something over the roar of the lawnmower still running, then goes back home.
What's this? Across-the-street is coming over with HIS ladder.
Oh, my! I think I'm going to swoon.
It's an EXTENSION LADDER!
Lori finally stopped procrastinating at 12:46 PM
4 Comments:
And I swear I didn't make any of this up. Sad.
ok, that cracked my arse up. so much it hurts.
- jules
I've seen these people, they live near my parents. So funny yet so sad.
Oh, you know my dad and his brother-in-law???
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