Unwelcome Mat

Hello, dear readers! In an example of Life Imitating South Park, the internet has been down in the apartment for a few days. As it turns out, there is no special treatment for those of us who live in Luxury in the Hollywood Hills. But no matter! The NeighborGoodies have been piling up!

Let's start off with a MysteryGoodie! Care to take a guess what this fine specimen is?


The Blue Bulges and random circles are confusing to an untrained eye, and you might think this is an artist's rubbery replica of a UFO formation in the sky. . .but you are mistaken!! The answer is coming up in a moment...but first, let's talk about this:

It looks like a bottle of perfume, but seems to be filled with some sort of adobe-like coagulant...or perhaps some gold finger paint. I was going to open the bottle to smell it in an attempt to identify the contents, but then I noticed the glass is pretty thick around the edges, which leads me to believe that it contains Dangerous Materials. Possibly Ricin! And so, just to be safe, I left it on the NeighborGoodies table for some other neighbor to take. Luckily, someone left behind a Ceramic Trinket Box to safely carry this possibly radioactive material in:


This hideous morsel looks like it had never left the box. . .



. . .at least, not until I took it out to inspect it.

The Trinket Box feels like something someone would purchase at a yard sale, blown away by the fact that it only costs fifty cents, only to bring it home and wonder what the hell to do with it. They shoved it in a closet for about three years before depositing it on the Table of Giving. Luckily it has found a new life as a Dangerous Materials Storage Unit.

And speaking of Dangerous Materials, it's time to reveal the identity of today's MysteryGoodie:


The powder blue rubbery bumps. The Circles indicating something sinister underneath of the item. The required Filth Factor. It all can mean only one thing:


. . .the Third Neighborgoodie Bathmat this year. WHY! Why do my neighbors feel the need to share their disgusting, mold-and-athlete's-foot-covered, used bathmats on the NeighborGoodies table? This is a civilized Give and Take situation--not a depository for your feces and diseases!

You can almost see the bacteria that has built up after years of use:


Perhaps I'm mistaken. Perhaps the people of my building don't mind the idea of standing on a vile bathmat that one of their weird neighbors was naked upon a mere 24 hours ago... because not only do these things keep appearing--but they also keep disappearing.

Gross!

Samantha Who?

I get weirdly excited when I see cardboard boxes on the NeighborGoodies table. Generally, they are crammed with infinite pieces of crazy--all combined into one convenient container for us to enjoy!

Here's a look at today's box!


These giant pink high heel shoes are made up of clear plastic in the middle so that the sides of your feet get exposed. I'm not a big Shoe-guy, but I'm pretty sure I don't want to meet a woman wearing a pair of shoes like this. They can't be comfortable...and if a woman can wear them, then she's probably undead.

Next up:

This is the first time anyone's name has been on a NeighborGoodie. Unfortunately, I don't know anyone named Samantha in the building. What is this woman thinking? Why not just throw this in the trash? The probability of someone named Samantha entering NeighborGoodies Central and impulsively deciding to claim this useless piece of personalized poo is pretty low. Whoever this Samantha chick is really wasn't thinking things through.

Especially when she purchased this. . .


A pair of turquoise terrycloth pants. What the hell, Samantha? There was a matching shirt that I didn't have time to take a photo of, for fear of getting caught. But I can assure you, it was equally hideous.

And finally, this 'classic' "I'm a Pepper" shirt celebrating Dr. Pepper's commercials from the 70s and 80s:

As usual, I started to wonder about the type of person Samantha is. While the pop culturiness of the Dr. Pepper shirt leads me to think she might be kind of cool in that she respects her beverage heritage...it seems incongruous with the rest of her Florida grandma wardrobe and her hilariously uptight warning signage. Of course, she is giving all these things away, clearly unaware that the Hipsters would buy a Dr. Pepper shirt like that for approximately $65 if found on Melrose.

Armed with a single name. . .I decided I would try to find out who this Samantha girl is in my building. I wandered the halls for a while shouting her name, but no one bit. Samantha's in hiding!

I need to be armed with more than a name, so I went to the NeighborGoodies Art Department for some help. After moments of work, they put together an image of what she might look like. . .and I will say there are several women who fit this description living in luxury in this building. I'll keep an eye out for her--and you should, too!

Pot Luck

There's a mish mash of items in today's Neighborgoodies.

First up, in the "things no one wants in their kitchen" department, there's this rusty, nasty pot.

I could almost taste the rusted baked bean residue as I took the photo. It comes with a matching less-rusty-but-more-scratched partner as well:


Mmmm...boil an egg in this and get little flecks of teflon in every bite! Wahoo!

There's also a plethora of random cups for your drinking pleasure:



First up is this handsome purple "Thirsty-Two Ouncer" from AM/PM Mini Markets. Next is this yellow goblet. . .

. . .which currently contains a candle holder. Just in case you want to drink some hot wax after your Teflon omelet.

And you can round it all out with this . . .dildo?

Ok...it's probably not a dildo. It's a stylish bottle of cologne (or, more likely, urine.)

Note: After taking this photo, I went to the gym and when I returned, I discovered this bottle had been placed on top of the car which belongs to the filthy aging spinster who now manages the apartment building... which makes me worry about what she's doing with the NeighborGoodies. Perhaps this is why her fucking yipyap dogs never stop barking. . .they are being sexually assaulted by the NeighborGoodies at the hands of their hobo owner! (Who, by the way, has taken to letting her dogs potty all over the courtyard we all share. Thanks for raising our rent, cuntface! Yes. It certainly is Luxury Living in the Hollywood Hills. . .)

Jolly Green Giant

NeighborGoodies is back with a vengeance!

Ok, so maybe I wasn't completely honest last time. Yes...it's difficult to rely on neighbors to throw trash out in order to try and write about it...but it is also pretty difficult to write about things that get thrown out every morning before you wake up.

I've had a weird schedule the past few weeks, so please forgive my lack of entries. But now, I'm back on track...and I bring to you the Biggest. NeighborGoodie. Ever!



This Giant Green Futon is by far the biggest piece I've ever seen atop the NeighborGoodies table. It's doubly confusing because the same NeighborGooder left a much-less-heavy item on the ground:

This black bean bag chair weighs about an eighth of that futon, and I couldn't figure out what sort of fool would put the extra energy into putting the heavy item up on the table, rather than leaving it on the floor beneath.

But now as I look at the photos....I realize that what we're dealing with here is a Secret Genius! By placing the futon up high, they trick potential customers into thinking that perhaps this is a normal futon. However, if you look closely, you'll notice that this futon will simply rest directly on your floor, leaving the taker at a most uncomfortable angle for television viewing and/or video game play.

The Bean Bag chair is a perfect companion piece to the floor-level futon, as they both rest on the floor. Talk about Luxury Living in the Hollywood Hills indeed!

Both pieces of furniture look like they are in pretty decent shape...but don't let them fool you. In my first apartment in LA, back before there was ever a NeighborGoodies table, I bought a futon from my friend Michael. After a few weeks, it became evident that whoever spent any time on the disgusting thing had to visit a doctor. People were coming down with all sorts of conditions. They had rashes, pink eyes, and there was even an unconfirmed case of chlamydia. After the mystery funk on the futon ate through its metal frame, I finally asked Michael what the hell was up with this thing.

He replied that his friend had rubbed her. . .girlie bits all over it, and he decided to get rid of it immediately. So the lesson here? If you see a used Futon (or vagina) on a NeighborGoodies table near you, just say no.

A Rose By Any Other Name. . .

My apologies for the lack of posts, but it is quite difficult to rely on a couple hundred people to decide they don't want random objects in order for me to have something to write about. Luckily, the turn of the month always delivers some good pieces as people move in and out...and now I've got plenty of them.

We'll start with this destroyed piece of fleece. . .


Despite its name, The 65 Roses Collection has nothing to do with Bette Midler, but rather is some sort of item purchased to support Cystic Fibrosis. Of course, merely looking up what this item is has convinced me that I have Cystic Fibrosis, and clearly I'll be dead soon.

But enough self-pity. It's worth noting that the design on this fabric looks suspiciously similar to that of the toilet seat covers that plagued the NeighborGoodies table a while back. And the fact that this has been cut into unusual shapes makes me wonder if the person who threw out her pre-purchased bathroom accents just made her own. These people are crafty in this building, let me tell ya!

There's also this lush greenery. . .





...which were clearly left by the same person who dropped off the fish food a few weeks ago. I suspect we'll have a fish tank down there before too long as well. I actually think the fish might have spent some time in the front office of our building...which would explain their quick demise, since that place is gross and full of sadness that can seep into your soul...not to mention your water if you're a fish.