moosh in indy.

September 18, 2007

I’m from Utah. Where “redneck” means you’re wearing a red turtleneck and “white trash” is the stuff over there in the recycling bin. The most I was ever exposed to redneck and white trash “culture” was from Jeff Foxworthy jokes and Kid Rock music videos.

Until I moved to Indiana.

The thermometer goes down and the freaks come out y’all.

Cody and I have called the cops four times in the last two weeks. The amount of liquor that is consumed by my neighbors combined with open windows makes prime time television boring and unnecessary. Just last night the guy across the street claimed his girlfriend doesn’t put out enough because she “won’t get her fat ice cream eating rear off the couch.”

Then there was the guy the cops caught in our car last Sunday night trying to take whatever he could get his mitts on. Oh and then there was the guy down five houses screaming “GO TO (you know where) GO TO (you know where) F U! F U! MY MOTHER IS DYING. ” While screaming so hysterically that it almost sounded like he was laughing.

His mom wasn’t dying. He was just drunk and bored apparently.

The guys behind us hang out in their backyard with a gun shooting at rabbits. The local pastime is fishing crawdads out of the stream to cook for dinner. If there’s no crawdads don’t worry, there’s plenty of leeches the kids can play with (and do!). Our last two neighbors were taken away in cop cars after only living there for a month. The houses to our left and our right are empty. Wanna place bets on who’ll move in?

Y’all, for the sake of making it through law school with the least amount of debt possible we are not living in the best of areas. All we can count on is the weather getting cold enough to drive the crazies back inside behind closed windows and doors. Until then, pull up a seat, the show’s about to begin.

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Oh wow! Sounds like you’re having a blast. We’ve been really lucky with our neighbors.

I am in the land of rednecks and white trash and let me tell ya … YOU ARE living in a cheap place.

Just … er … don’t tell them that there’s a lawyer living in the house or you’ll NEVER see (or smell) the end of ‘em.

please, oh please, come live with biddy. you will be so much safer and you won’t even have to pay rent! of course, it might be difficult to see moosh daddy with you being in texas…

oh wait, it already is…

ok, i’ll clean out the spare room for you and moosh!

Um. Wow, that’s scary. My Indy friends have been telling me how crappy Indianapolis has been lately to live in and I’m beginning to believe it. That really sucks.

Try the west side, maybe?

Oh my. You and That Chick (from Jason. For the Love of God.) should get together and commiserate. Your neighbours seem cut from the same cloth!

We are the redneck clan in our neighborhood but yours take the cake. The worst thing the menfolk do around here is shoot the squirrels with pellet guns. It is done as a favor after a bunch of the varmints made a home one winter in their attic. Huge mess that all the menfolk helped clean up.

Good thing my grandfather isn’t around. My grandmother would make him fried squirrel biscuits and gravy in the morning.

Holy snit. Girlfriend, I have to say, having grown up around rednecks and white trash, that beats all and moves into just plain crazy. Insane!

oh my! on the up side, your hubby will have plenty of people to defend in the future. . .although it’s hard to make a case on sheer stupidity.

Oh- and you must never have lived in Sanpete county, UT- lovely people with some completely weird white trash thrown right in. They are everywhere.

And I thought my neighbourhood was colourful.

Casey, you gotta capture it on video! That would make for great blog reading! LMAO!

Gosh! Better keep that cute, blonde, curly-headed moosh indoors away from all those freaks! Yikes!

Where’s my banjo? ‘Cause, girl, you be living in Deliverance country.

Oh, sweetie. I’m from Louisiana. Land of mardi gras and drive through liquor stores. You haven’t seen a real redneck until you’ve seen a Southern redneck. We’ve raised it to an art form, y’all.

I don’t live there, but I worked as a groundskeeper in a very similarly described area.
My main job was to pick up dirty diapers and dried vomit off the common area ground. Good times.

wow…that sounds both exciting and a little scary!

when i was growing up (in a nice part of middle-of-nowhere farmland Ontario!), we had this old coot (that’s right…coot!) that lived in a shack in the middle of our crop land. he used to chase people away with his shotgun when anyone went out there…we couldn’t even take walks back there for fear of being shot!…he tried that with my dad…once….ya, you don’t mess with my daddy!

and that’s why I’m scared of walking across the parking lot to my car!!!

Oh my goodness! I feel so bad for you. My best friend and her husband made it 3 years in Indy and the stories I would hear. Lets just say after reading your blog I know they were telling the truth. You can’t make this Indy stuff up.

Yowza. I’d totally be riveted to the window all night, pretending to be cleaning while I eavesdropped. Although…it’s not just Indiana; NY apartment living makes for some awesome entertainment, too, particularly from our INSANE FIGHT-LOVING NEIGHBORS. They are a classy, classy bunch.

And I thought I had crappy neighbors. You win.

Hands down.

Stay inside, lock your doors, and bake. A lot. And just remember, the end is in sight. Really, it is!

Tee hee, hang in there.

Casey you’re scaring me! you must get out of that neighborhood!

Welcome to Indiana. I’ll pray for cold weather for you…so the hillbillies move back inside. Yes…Spring & Fall are bad times for the rednecks. Open windows and and earful of $%^*.

Be careful (especially with the Moosh around)…and maybe open the classifieds for cheaper (and nicer) places to live.

Yeah, how about a little Reality in your Reality TV?

[...] lawyers are paid boatloads of money, and I’m currently living the reason. It pretty much blows (for now that [...]

Okay. Now I’m such a Mamma that I’m going to worry about you all the time.

Stay safe my sweet.

I about peed my pants laughing! The whole “ice cream eating rear”. Love it!!! At least you’ll never be bored right???? HA!

Crapola! Now what side of town are you living on again so I can avoid going there with Pitter?
You should come visit us when we move to Zionsville next week for a break from the Indy nutties.

Haha, Don’t knock the trailer parks! That stuff only happens on the weekends there! hahahahahaha.

Wow. I am going out right now to kiss all of my neighbors. They are completely sane compared to yours. You can always stay with me in WI. I have 2 little boys that would love to meet Moosh!

holy crap! i don’t even know where to begin…
zoiks!
(totally makes me want to go kiss the Tin Can Lady or our neighborhood Opera Man on a Bike or give the Crazy Lady a nice batch of warm cookies)

Dang me, it makes me glad that the poor neighborhood I live in is a Hispanic neighborhood. Everyone works 16 hours a day and has a little party on Saturday night that ends about 10:30…because everyone gets up early, doncha know.

Ha ha! I came from a small town a little bit like that… I’m so glad we moved!

by the way, I found you from you know where today… but I’ll keep it a secret!

In Toronto, I used to live next door to a crackhouse … now it’s just old winos in the rental across the way, and hard-partying students just for fun.

So you save money on cable, right?

Ahhh…thank you for reminding me why I refuse to have any neighbors at all, well, none within at least 3/4 of a mile. Peaceful bliss.

Add about 10 stray dogs and a dude rippin’ the roads on his lawnmower and you’d be living next door to me.

This post is hilarious. Sad, but hilarious.

Dude, please tell me you are kidding.

Please.

[...] was IN. OUR. CAR. (For those of you who are regular readers here this is a different break in than this one. I know, such a classy life I [...]

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