When I had FULLY opened the blinds upstairs and the windows to allow some fresh air indoors while vacuuming the parlor-designed carpet, I believe the divorced nutter got paranoid that we are looking down into her backyard and laughing at her.
I remembered hearing the VERY faint sounds of a “baby mewling” or a “cat meowing”. Then I said in aloud French:
“Ecouté bien! Elle est folle. Elle est mal à tête!”
I assumed that the Asian renters (either Chinese or Vietnamese) had their grandchild with them. So that’s why I said something in French in the hopes they understood.
The sounds stopped. I had brought out two fans from upstairs and Paw brought the other two from downstairs. Then my sounds started: The air compressor was many times more nerve wracking for the nutball than it was for moi, because I’ve learned to desensitize my pain threshold recently.
Then the spraying from the nutball’s garden hose OVER THE SHARED FENCE started, along with the nutball’s phone call to the SJPD, THREE HOURS after SHE was hollering from the top of her lungs while on the top of the patio.
“Manang! Palinda! Salbahe! Bastos! Why do you have to be so nasty?”
Of course, I ignored her and turned my back, not knowing if she was looking through the fence or up on the patio roof. The sound of the air compressor drowned out the demon’s noise. To the SJPD, you’ve read my recent blog entry about how Paw saw her on the patio roof. We forgot to mention that SAFETY hazard to you twits.
So when I make sounds at my desk at, it’s probably the frustrated demons from within. It might have rubbed off on me. You see, I reflect what is going on around me. I report what is strange and weird. I may be slightly empathic and tend to absord other people’s cooties. So now you know.
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