Jewels of denial.

Let's talk about my neighbors.

I know some of you picture me living in a cabin in the woods, and you probably expect that when I run out of Lucky Charms, I have to make a 3 day trip by horse and wagon to get another box, but that's not the case. I do, in fact, have neighbors. Granted, they are not of the "right-on-top-of-my-ass-all-the-time-can't-you-keep-your-kids-out-of-my-yard-for-a-single-goddamn-day" sort that I had in my last house, but they are there nonetheless.

Our nearest ones happen to be roughly 300 feet away. I can just about make out their house through the woods. My wife and I have lived here about 11 or so years now, and I've spoken to my neighbors literally dozens of times, so obviously we are very close friends.

The man of the house is an older gentleman, and quite the outdoorsman. As far as I can tell, he and his wife live alone in the house with a dog and/or cat. I'm not entirely sure.

I have two concrete reasons why I am comfortable with the outdoorsman label I have so nonchalantly slapped on him, and they are as follows: (1) The first time I met him, he was dressed in full camo, and (2) he regularly shoots guns off his back deck.

I am OK with that. I have been known to do a little plinking off the back deck myself, and since he does it, I know I am not bothering him when I do it. Win-win.

While I've heard some shooting recently, I am very thankful that I haven't heard the other thing. The thing that screams and howls at dusk. The half-mad piping of blind Azathoth, encircled by his flopping horde of mindless and amorphous subjects; charnel pit demons, feasting upon I-know-not-what.

Well, that's what I used to think it was anyway. Until I snuck through the woods one night and found out that he was trying to teach himself to play the fucking recorder. I imagine it sounds a lot like someone violating a goose. (I said "I imagine," so shut it.)

Anyway, that gives you a little background. It doesn't fully set the stage for this, because frankly, there are no words to describe what I am about to show you. While they are very nice, albeit slightly eccentric folk, their taste tends toward the um, gaudy end of the spectrum. Think: full-sized chainsaw bears and lots of whirligigs and lawn ornaments.

Two days ago, I drove past their house and I noticed there had been a subtle change to their mailbox. Whereas before it had been a normal, everyday, white mailbox with perhaps a few fake flowers hanging on it, it had been somehow altered.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but perhaps you guys can help me out. I took this picture for you:

p.s. - I promise I will take another picture in a few weeks when that stuff starts falling off in chunks.


  1. Anonymous10:08 PM

    Hmm, birthday cake gone awry?

  2. Anonymous11:46 PM

    Ooooh! It's the witch's house from Hansel and Gretel.

  3. ACK!

    Apparently your neighbors are the reasons for Suburban HOA's.

  4. It's BeDazzled!

    Actually it reminds me of that squishy white candy nougat with the little bits of colored gel gunk in it. (What? all candy is pretty much cornsyrup and other chemicals)

  5. I Google'd Mr. Clean for a blog post I'm doing - did you know he's actually a sailor? - anyhow - and the image from Google was to your site...

    And... it's one of the early posts on your L-O-N-G page of posts... I found myself reading as I scrolled down... down... down...

    You've got some funny stuff - nice work! I like your sense of humor.

    Long story short, I'm not going to use the images YOU have of Mr. Clean paying a visit to dirty women at home... women in dirty homes... But I do plan to stop by again to see more of your posts.


  6. I would say it is time for some mailbox baseball.

  7. Ohmigawd. My mother can never, never see that picture. Because that's totally something she would do, and then Dad would have to start drinking again.

  8. I'm with Carly, JV. Looks "bedazzling"...although I don't know if that is possible with the BeDazzler.

    I bet if you put a few drops of acetone on their box each day as you collected your own mail (no need to look suspicious), the chunks would start falling.

  9. I'm dying. See why your life needs to be a movie? You can't make this shit up, can you?? Ok, I will totally try and get you a movie deal. I don't know anyone, but I'm good at finding stuff, so give me some time.

    Ok, here's how I think this all went down:
    The Mrs: Dear, I really wish you would stop playing that recorder.
    The Mr.: Dammit, woman! I'm trying to learn how to play the dueling banjo's on it!
    The Mrs.: I know dear, but you've been working on it for quite awhile and you're not getting any better.
    The Mr.: Why are you determined to not only stomp on my dreams, but to destroy my soul in the process?
    The Mrs.: Very well, dear. Continue with your learning. I'm going to go do some crafts with the mailbox now.

    Aaaaaand, scene.

  10. Anonymous7:31 PM

    Holy shit, it looks like Liberace threw up on their mailbox.

  11. If you could get a picture of your neighbor dressed in cammo, playing the recorder, that would be cool. Especially if he was doing a little jig as he played. Maybe a video clip would be better.

  12. I think that their gold fish died and they took the stuff from the bottom of the tank and made a memorial mail box in his honor.

    But that's just me.

    So for real was it HIM that you thought was a crazy weird bird driving you nuts with it's noise last fall? Remember you posted about it and could'nt identify it?

  13. What's with you people up there and your mailbox art? Isn't there anything else to do?

  14. Oh yeah, video of him in his camo blowing on the recorder. YouTube classic!

    The more I look at that mailbox, JV, the more I think the missus just covered the normal box with an old fruitcake from 5 Christmases ago.

  15. Are you sure your neighbors aren't 10 year old girls? Because I learned the recorder when I was 10, and I definitely would've decorated a mailbox like that when I was 10.

  16. Anonymous2:45 PM

    "Months go by and he's still at it..." mumbles the Hag with a smirk on her face. And she slithers away to the next unsuspecting foo ...

    Stay well my crazed writing bro,

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  18. Holy shitballs. Take that picture down at once; you've scorched my corneas.

  19. Looks like someone ate a mosaic and puked out a mailbox.

    Or something.

  20. Can you chip off a few pieces for me? I could make some killer earrings from those bits of glass!

  21. JOHN:
    I just saw this stuff at JoAnn's craft store! It's Mosaic glass and runs about 10 bucks per box. I think I saw the exact kit they used because the colors are the same. The white stuff is called Mosaic Grout and runs about 4 bucks.

  22. Anonymous1:05 AM

    Mosaic / Be-Dazzled mailboxes are so last year.