by LonelyPilgrim on Thu May 24, 2007 12:31 am
Drunk bastards aren't confined to St Andrews. About three weeks ago, on a Saturday at 3am, our neighbors to the north (we live in the country but the houses to our north are relatively close-by) decided it was a great time to start playing music so loud that it shook our windows, despite our respective houses being about 100 metres apart.
The police were called, but since one of the gentlemen who lives in the offending house is a policeman, they naturally did not respond.
Then, another set of our neighbors decided that, "Hell, if they are going to have a party, we might as well, too" and since these chaps are a heavy metal band, they broke out their drums et al and really started going at it.
The police were called again. This time they came, and told the various folk to be quiet, then left.
The parties naturally resumed, and merged. Then these shining examples of what is best of humanity decided that drunkenly firing guns into the air at 4.30am would make them sexy or something.
The police were called again, but since they'd already 'Taken care of it', they did not respond.
About 5am at least two, but possibly more of the individuals involved decided to have really loud and obnoxious sex on their lawn, while their friends began riding dirt bikes, drunkenly mind, up and down the road, shouting the whole way.
The police were called, yet again. This time when they came, the partiers decided to shout obscenities at the officers and throw things at them. They were all arrested at this point and taken away, but the entire neighborhood had already had their night's sleep ruined.
And to top it off, two days later they were all released from jail and have spent several hours almost every day since riding up and down the street shouting on their dirt bikes. Granted, it's been during the day and there haven't been any more parties, but it's still bloody irritating.
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Arma virumque cano...
Man is free; yet we must not suppose that he is at liberty to do everything he pleases, for he becomes a slave the moment he allows his actions to be ruled by passion. --Giacomo Casanova