Welly wrote:Then there's my other neighbour who continues to build-on and add-on to just about every angle of the house, week in week out, and now has just announced he wants to plonk a detached double garage on the spare lawn he owns near me (weird private road)
Doesn't your neighbour need to get planning permission for that sort of thing? I wonder if he has.... (send in the bulldozers...)
My neighbours are ok at my house but here we seem to live in Retardville (the village has a reputation for everyone being related to everyone else, Norwich-style). The two kids to the eight here seem to run wild most of the time, they play music full blast in the garden, let fireworks off all the time and generally make a lot of noise playing war (didn't they have enough of that yet?). One day we were in the garden here and I heard an air rifle pellet whizz over our heads. My wife stormed round there but it wasn't the kids this time, it was their dad

He was outraged that she should suggest he was firing at us and said he'd been firing into the air. I presume he thinks the pellets vaporise when they get 100 feet in the air

We get on ok with the grandparents. last year thy invited us around for coffee. We were chatting away when one of these retards came in and switched the telly on full blast.The grandparents being both a bit mutton this kind of killed the conversation. And I can't do anything about it because my wife's one of their teachers
Then there was the time I chased another kid down the street because we were fed up with them ringing the doorbell until silly o'clock in the morning. Turns out he's the local dunce and he thought he'd be "in" with the local troublemakers for doing this. I chased him into the local bar, which of course was full of his relatives (told ya so), and I came close to a punch-up with some of them - "oooh, our little boy wouldn't do that!". SO anyway, while I was walking home I found his bike, which I duly confiscated. Then all his relatives turned up at my wife's house so I got my wife to summon the Old Bill. I have a video of the relatives arguing with her, telling her she was a liar. Then the little boy turning up in tears and confessing all 'cos I had his bike

And us all shaking hands and departing as friends. And finally the police turning up too late to catch the fun
Oooh, and of course the time when the guy who runs the fire house left his keys with some idiot who, in turn, lent them to some kids, who had a big party there. 1 am there were little kids staggering around puking everywhere, smashing bottles and generally making a right din. I went out there and they locked themselves inside, so once more we called on the local constabulary who came and sent them home. Oh, and did I mention my wife's one of the teachers? The next parent's evening was more lively than usual...