Dusie talked me out of calling the cops on the neighbors last night. She told me I was having an attack of The Don, channeling the rage into a fight I don't have time to win. That on Thursday I'll be ensconced at the Marlboro Mesa, new life, blah blah, and to let it go. Turn it all into writing material. She's right, I guess.
Fuckers did burn my chairs though.
PS--I just got a call back from Fire Prevention. The rules for noncooking fires are they have to be 25 feet from any structure, no burning wood scraps, brush, etc. They won't get a ticket. The fire inspector will just come out, catch them in the act and make them dowse the fire.
No comments:
Post a Comment