Scandal in the Lane with no Name

It’s kicking off in the Lane with no name (Lwnn). For those who don’t remember the Lane with no name is the lane that runs along the back of Gnomepants manor and connects the other 4 houses to the outside world without having to use the front steps which nobody uses which are steep. In times past it was also used as access for brewery vehicles to the Village Club but they don’t use it any more as they have better vehicles these days.

At the top of the LWNN is the village club and the new access road for the brewery trucks. After the car park of indeterminate car death is Mr & Mrs P. Mr a fussy silly old man who likes to get his tooth stuck into the local goings on especially if it has anything to do with planning or if it allows him to be a stubborn old fucker or both. Next to Mr P. is Mrs O. Mrs O is as old as Mr P if not older though you wouldn’t think it. Mrs O likes to flirt with me, something I feel very uncomfortable with. She reminds me of the old ladies that used to go to the Over 60’s club that my nan used to take me to when I was little. Constantly fussing and getting wound up by silly things.

Then you have me and next to me is G the human dog and next to G the human dog is Mr & Mrs The Good Life who are self sufficient and rude with it. At the Good Life end there is the exit onto the main road. Behind the LWNN is the Field Behind the LWNN and behind that is the Field Behind the Field behind the LWNN. And behind that is the Housing Estate behind the Field behind the field behind the lane with no name. Behind that, are the treacherous cliffs of doom. With me so far?

Ok. So this lane. If you even think about leaving your car blocking the LWNN you can guarantee Mr or Mrs P will nip out in their Rover 45, out of the top gate, along the road to the bottom of the LWNN then come up the LWNN and come knocking on your door to tell you you are making an obstruction (This is fact. I have tested this and I have observed their calculated cunning). If Mr & Mrs P don’t see you first, Mrs O will come and fuss at you warning that you will face the wrath of Mr P or that she will end up getting shouted at by Mr P. If there are ever trades or work men needing access to the houses they either have to drop their tools off at the back of the house and then park at the front or they have to hoik all their stuff up the front steps which nobody uses. This can be a right royal pain in the arse but Mr P states that the access needs to be kept clear at all times “In case an emergency vehicle requires access and with me being elderly….” Ok? With me now?

Like I said, G the human dog and his plethora of puppies live next door to me. They are the scutter house. It has been on the market since early 2007 and they haven’t even taken one viewing. Tradesmen we have had who have visited the Human Dog household come out white as a sheet with tales of the horrors they see within (half rotting pizzas, dog poo in the kitchen, hair everywhere, the smell of filth and dirt). Indeed, I have visited the Human Dog house and have had to shower at least twice to wash away the smell. Besides their hygiene, the Human Dogs are lazy. When I moved in, G promised that he would help me shore up the embankment of the LWNN which, during heavy rains, tends to wash away. I’m still waiting. He once told me he was going to fix his garage which is held up by ivy. It is still awaiting repair. Seriously the Human Dogs are just…well….munters. Dirty filthy munters.

Anyway, G ferries his family around in a very large Chrysler people carrier. Bear in mind that the Chrysler is an American car so by birth it is huge. It takes up the whole of the drive in girth and carries at least 8 of them. This Chrysler we will call “Chrysler A”. It is an old car. At least 12 years old if not older. It is falling apart. As a result of it falling apart, the Human Dogs were forced to be towed back from a trip to the filth mines late in September. As G “needs the car to ferry tools to jobs” as well as “take kids darn t’school an that” (School is just over 800 yards away from their house). So Chrysler A died and the Human Dogs were forced to buy a new Chrysler (Chrysler B). Just as big if not bigger.

Now in the LWNN there is barely enough room to park Mrs Gnomepants’ blue fiesta let alone two big fuck off people carriers. So G promised that he would park his car blocking us in of an evening until he was able to clear out and repair the Garage Held up with Ivy. Fine, I thought, thinking he might actually do it. Ha! I actually forgot that when we moved in he promised that he would clear out the Garage held up with Ivy because we had parking problems then. Haha!

Anyway, so Mrs Gnomepants complained after a week of this. As did Mrs Owen. Mrs Owen had a right go at Gareth one morning. I just looked at him with disdain as I was made late for a meeting one morning because my car was blocked in my own garage by G’s. Not wanting to get involved I went about my business and listened to how the wife and the other members of the LWNN complained about G’s car situation. So, as a compromise G agreed to park Chrysler B in the Car Park of Indeterminate Car Death during the day and round the back of Chrysler A thus blocking the lane of an evening. This, he theorised, would be ok as Mr P would be safely tucked up in bed with Cocoa at the time G moved the car.

Ok? With me still? Right then. This has been going on since September as I said. Last night Mr P decided enough was enough and wrote the Human Dogs a stern note. He CC’d everybody else into the note and drew particular attention to Mrs O’s gardener who parks his van slightly blocking the LWNN twice a month during a Wednesday Afternoon.

This is how it goes.

My House
Lane with No Name.
2 November 2008

Dear Mr. Human Dog


There are only a few simple rules to living in our few houses, which when adhered to, make it a very pleasant place to live.

The most important one is to provide 24 hour access, something which becomes more and more important as one gets older.

I like to think that we would all be helpful at a time of temporary problem but your problems, Gareth, are foreseeable and have a permanence about them. You do not appear to care who you obstruct or inconvenience, with your latest one of obstructing the gate, which will encourage customers to the club to do the same.

We have lived in this house for 51 years and this is the first calculated, sustained attack on our statuary rights of away we have experienced and it must stop.

The people at the club have made hostile challenges over the same period of time even though the people at the brewery are quite happy with the long standing agreements. Mr C (Mrs O’s gardener), in his arrogance, has purchased a larger van expecting all of us to accommodate at his whim.

I would appreciate it if you would cease to cause obstruction and consider others.
Thank you,

(P., Mr.)

Now you see…this is a classic example of why the over 65’s (fj_warren excluded as she is but 21) shouldn’t be allowed near a word processor without a personality test.

Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists where I am more than qualified enough to talk confidently about absolute shite and bollocks.

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