Pass a nightmare on

Pam over at pamibe wrote a short piece about her neighbors that I left a comment on. Since now I can’t rid myself of this visual I’ll pass it on.

We have a neighbor we have nicknamed Speedo Man. He’s so dreadful, so horrible, the torture of living across the street from him has been one of the reasons I have contemplated moving. Speedo Man does yard word in his teeny, tiny, Speedo’s. Maybe if he was young and really, really, good-looking I could tolerate this. Naw, Speedo’s have never done anything for me.

I don’t like to ever comment of anyone’s figure. That’s just not polite. But in this case I have to make an exception so I can give you the visual. He’s at least, minimum, 100 pounds overweight, is bald, and wears goggles with his Speedo’s and goulashes or boots and is now in his fifties. Since I have lived in this house 10 years, I’ve had the horror of seeing everything, all his moving bits, drop from gravity and age. Speedo Man’s ass is furry; I know I see it at least once a week. Gravity has taken its toll on him just like everyone else.

I know the size of his dick, the shape of his balls. The horror is unbelievable.

I’ve rushed into my house after seeing him, and asked Jesus to save me from this horror. I have wished that I could have episodes of blindness, a kind of temporary blindness that only occurs when he’s doing his yard work.

The man loves to work in his yard. He bends over, he reaches, he sweats, all his bit's moving, it’s more than I can handle.

When I go out my front door I keep my head down just so I won’t catch a peek. But some how that S.O.B. gets in my sight.

I’ve daydreamed about getting the air rifle and shooting him in the ass from my window more times than I can count. So far I have managed to hold back but I don’t know how much longer I can do that.

He haunts me too. Speedo Man pop’s into my head at odd times. I can be at work, driving the car, having sex, working in my own garden (fully clothed) and that S.O.B. pops in my brain for a visual. Nasty, that’s what it is.

When Speedo Man pop’s into my mind my face scrunches up, I lose whatever momentum I have going, and he takes away my will to live. He makes me want to drink or do drugs, I could turn into an alcoholic or drug addict easy if I had to see him everyday.

I can go on and on. It’s just horrible, terrible, I often wonder what terrible deed I have ever done to deserve this.

EVERYTIME I SEE SPEEDO MAN MOWING HIS YARD I WANT TO SHOOT HIM IN THE ASS.

Comments

[pam]

BeeBee, tears are running down my face I'm laughing so hard...!!! Great post! :D

[BeeBee]

Pam, I was a little more blunt than I usually am but this guy, he tortures me. Probably one of the most ongoing tortures ever!

When I have friends over and they catch sight of this guy, they stop in their tracks and stare. The sight is unbelievable. Most of them can't get over it, talk about it all night. Then call me the next day and talk about it some more.

I just want to shoot him on his hairy ass!

[Lloyd]

I once had a similar neighbor, except it was a female--I think. She must have been at least 65, with enormous breasts and a huge ass. She didn't speak English, and she worked in her yard (and sweated in the Florida heat) continuously. She had no grass, just hundreds of large plants. We used to say she had people buried underneath them. She wore a brownish rag tied around her nipples, and a loin-type cloth on her lower part. She was repulsive! The weird thing was you couldn't take your eyes off of her. She was like a train wreck, you just had to look every time you went by.

[~ Z ~]

way good post, BeeBee! this guy's twin lives across the street from me. he doesn't wear a Speedo but he does think he's God's Gift to Women. he toils shirtless with his belly hanging out over low-rider pants and i know the crack in his ass better than i know my own. plus, he's a Peeping Tom (i've caught him) who walks his itty-bitty pooch at night, letting the dog poop on my lawn more than once. i always pick up the poop and throw it back into his front yard. what's with these guys/gals?

[BeeBee]

Lloyd, Z, What can I say? I'm glad I'm not the only one tortured like this. Misery loves company.

[Machelle]

Ok your speedo guy must be a triplet. My use to be next door neighbor would wear those shorts that joggers would wear back in the 70's (you know, those nylon things) every waking hour of the summer. He was fat and ugly and drunk. Our family room door wall faced their back patio, we kept our curtains open all the time until that one time. They never went out on their patio, I mean never until he discovered we left out curtains open until we went to bed. He then started standing out on the patio all the time in his little shorts, no shirt, drinking with everything (I mean everything) hanging out. And wave at me. It got so bad that we just started leaving the curtains closed. Thank-god we moved. I think I'm scared for life though.

[BeeBee]

Machelle, Glad to see you back. It's amazing how we all can identify with SpeedoMan clones. He's in my brain now, I'll never be able to wipe him out. Only thing to do was develop a little humor about the situation.