Thanks!

With Thanksgiving happening here tomorrow, I just wanted to pause and consider everything I'm grateful for.

I'm thankful that I don't have to drink out of someone's used water bottle...

...or out of someone's filthy turquoise-dotted kitchen cup:

...which has a stain inside:


But most of all, I'm thankful that I never have to see another college exam "blue book..."


...except, of course, when one is inexplicably placed upon the Big Blue NeighborGoodies table.

These books terrified me in college--and now they've grown even bigger! The ones we used in school were about half the size of the one above. (Although I assure you, in the worst of my anxiety dreams, they were much bigger than even that one.) At least when they were small, you could close your eyes push, hard through your fingers and maybe have a chance at coming close to filling the small pages. But with them being twice the size now, there's no covering up when you don't know what you're talking about.

I didn't even realize how thankful I am for not having to deal with Blue Books until it came into view yesterday. I almost had a heart attack when I saw it. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, or that somehow I had fallen asleep during an art history exam eleven years ago and I was just now waking up, having dreamed the last decade or so of my life and career. (Nightmares, all of it!)

But alas, it seems as though I've been awake this whole time. Or maybe I've been in a coma since 1997; in which case, I'd be thankful for another couple rounds on the snooze button, 'cuz I am still exhausted.

Happy Turkey Day!

See No Evil, Hear No Evil

Over the weekend, someone dropped off a gigantic (albeit very dusty) speaker:

This wood paneled item looks more like furniture than a speaker, and seems as though it was pulled from a log cabin some time in the mid 80's. I could find no brand name identifier on this behemoth, but I think we can all agree that it must be a quality product, since it is so big and so dusty. Plus, there is only one speaker--which no doubt means crystal clear quality mono sound for all of your LP's and 8-Tracks! Since bigger is always better, there's no need for two speakers when just a massive one will suffice... Especially when listening to this:

This CD single caught my eye initially because, well, it's in the shape of a giant condom:

It even proclaims to be able to reduce the risk of HIV infection and many other sexually transmitted diseases, which is generally the opposite of what music normally does. I can't tell you how many times I've gotten ear-aids™ from listening to dirty pop.

There's no official video for this song, but I did manage to find someone playing the track over an image of the CD (on a red NeighborGoodies-like table, no less!):

Not only is it a pretty decent song that sounds great (although not as good as it would on that speaker up there, obviously) but it can also prevent STDs! What more could you want out of a CD?

Oh, I know... How about a cure for your blindness?

This "Natural Vision Improvement Kit" comes with not one, but two CDs aimed at eradicating any need for glasses or contact lenses. The kit also includes two eye charts, a 90 page guidebook and, according to a website called soundstrue.com, 13 "illustratred" practice cards! Clearly this eye improvement kit does nothing to help you spell.

The kit was invented by Meir Schneider, founder of the School for Self-Healing. According to his bio, Meir was born without eyes, or some such nonsense. After some surgeries which left his eyeballs "shattered" (ouch!) doctors said he'd never see anything ever! Ever! But then, at the tender age of 17, with nothing else to do but be post-pubescent, cranky and blind, he decided to practice a bunch of eyeball exercises and blam! Not only can he see, but he can now see well enough to hold a California drivers license:

I couldn't uncover anyone on the internet who has actually used this method, which could mean one of three things:

A: They tried this thing, went completely blind and couldn't figure out how to post a complaint about it.

B: They tried it; it worked and no one posted about how wonderful it was because, well, no one wants to write if there's nothing to complain about. (Or is that just me?)

C: They purchased this item, realized that they'd actually have to do some super-intense eye training, and got lazy about it.

This last thing is almost certainly what happened here in my building. I can pretty much guarantee that someone got this kit and was entirely too lazy to actually go through with it with the program. They eventually decided to dump it onto the NeighborGoodies table along with the dusty speaker.

I'm no doctor, but I imagine removing the 30 year old dust from their apartment has already improved his or her eyesight by 15 - 20 %. What a bunch of filthy blind animals.

The Hole Truth

Today we have a basket:

And inside this basket, we've got a small selection of random NeighborGoodies:

I'm not actually sure what this neon green rectangle is. It's spongy, and since I don't know any better, I am going to have to assume that it is some sort of feminine hygiene product. It makes me wonder if this basket was actually someone's trash can before it became a NeighborGoodie.

It wouldn't surprise me at all, considering what else is in there:

What you're seeing now is a hand-held single hole puncher, some correction tape... and, my personal favorite, a plastic knife.

In the interest of fair and accurate reporting, I feel I should tell you now that I am a big fan of office supplies. I love going to stores like Staples and Office Depot and wandering the aisles. I don't know why, but I just love my accordion folders and my postage scale... and yes, my correction tape.

I know I have no practical use for it, but it is effing cool. I love white out as well, although I currently don't have any. Perhaps some kind NeighborGooder will change that in the future.

While I am pro-correction tape, I always was pretty much against the hand-held hole puncher. Even more useless to me than the correction tape, this instrument is designed to create one single hole in your paper. This item has always been a mystery to me. My mother (Tina) had one of these things when I was growing up and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with it. Judging by Tina's reaction, I was definitely not supposed to be using it to chop individual strands of our carpet ("mowing the rug") or poke holes in my shirt (playing "moth.")

But I did some research for you, kind NeighborGoodies Enthusiast, to unlock the Mystery of the Hole Punch. According to this awesome article at about.com, the hole punch was invented in 1885 by Benjamin Smith. It was originally called the Conductor's Punch, and is still used to mark train tickets to this day:

It's Patented!

A few years later, a guy named Charles Brooks improved upon the original design. Always concerned with keeping things tidy (he also invented the street sweeper!), Charles attached a little trap to capture all the round paper (or carpet) clippings, so that there wouldn't be any litter!

And yet, in a cruel twist of fate, his invention has been placed in a wicker rubbish receptacle... on a table full of waste... in a building full of white trash that no amount of correction tape can erase.

If I Can Make It Here. . .

Hollywood! It's the land where dreams either come true or turn into nightmares. Every year, a kabillion people come here to follow their passions. A very low percentage of us ever make it. Obviously, I'm one of the lucky few who gets to live out their dream by writing about other people's garbage. One such garbage-leaver seems to have lucked out as well, as they left off a bunch of school supplies:

Since it's the middle of November, I have to assume that whichever NeighborGooder left behind these festive folders and binders, likely decided to drop out of school. I imagine she moved here over the summer in order to set up a Luxurious Life in the Hollywood Hills, where she would be free to pursue her dreams of becoming an actress/singer/waitress. In order to have her family's monetary support in this excursion, she promised to enroll in classes, studying such useful things as Ancient Egypt...

...although judging by her neon green and purple school supplies, she never really took her education seriously:

I mean, who can study pyramids and decode hieroglyphs with all that straw-based wackiness? Especially when it matches your ruler and pencil sharpener? And also: People still sharpen pencils?

Anyway, she dropped out of classes once her career started to take off, which would explain the fliers for the crappy plays that have been plastered all over the building. I do wish her well in her future endeavors, but I do think she made one fatal career move when she got rid of the one thing everyone needs to make it in Hollywood:

This square, recorkable, hand-painted bottle of vodka! Which will serve some other NeighborGooder well when combined with a wacky straw and a dream.

Radio Free Radio

Back in the height of the summer, someone put everything you could possibly need for a day at the beach on the NeighborGoodies table, including this portable CD Player...

...whose cover did not close properly, leaving it only useful as a radio or laser-guided weapon.

Today, in a NeighborGoodies Rerun... that radio has returned....
...sans antenna:
This means, of course, that someone took this semi-broken radio off the NeighborGoodies table, broke it even more, then put it back onto the NeighborGoodies table three months later, completely devoid of all intended functions.

Some possible unintended functions:
Suicide Aid (*Pool or bathtub not included)
Food Processor
Decorative Candle Holder
Cereal Bowl
Magic Wand (*Antenna Only)

I just have to point out now that the NeighborGooder who super-broke this thing clearly had the opportunity to throw it out in his apartment with a lot less effort. How does laziness not win out in a case like this? This guy had to pass several different trash cans, trash bags and trash chutes on his way down to redeposit this item on the Big Blue Table. Does he feel as though he owed it to the table? Is it a sacrifice to the NeighborGods?

All I know for sure is that if this thing reappears early next year, completely split in half, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised.

All Choked Up... Again

After reading my post the other day about Old Chokey, my roommate politely took me aside (called me an idiot) and told me that the chronic cougher is, in fact, still alive and unwell. (And then called me an idiot again.)

According to my roommate's ear-witness™ report, Chokey's been hacking things up as recently as this past weekend. I, of course, have been very busy working late to make Quality Television, and have been missing the prime hours of hackery. By the time I get home, his night drugs have likely kicked in, allowing me to fall asleep without listening to his mucousy mayhem.

But I still stand by my theory that someone in this building either perished or is being sent off to a retirement home, as more evidence to support this has surfaced:

This type of prescription pill box is present in every senior citizen's home. Of course, most senior citizens take the same pills day after day, including Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. But not this guy, who tore apart his mid-week pill holders in an act of medical disobedience. Perhaps his weekend pills are extra-strength, and can carry him for three days of drug-free living... Or maybe he's trying to save money by cutting back on half his weekly doses--after all, he is on a fixed income. Hopefully he doesn't turn into a psychopath killer when he's off his meds.

Whatever the reason, I'm just glad that Chokey's safe and still barely alive in the Luxurious Hollywood Hills. Of course, today is Wednesday and if Mr. Hyde is off his meds, is anyone really safe?

Re-Tired

There's a guy in the building who, for the last six years, has been coughing up lung after lung directly into the courtyard morning, noon and night. This man, clearly suffering either from emphysema or tuburculosis, has a very specific, almost musical coughing pattern: It starts off with one cough, then a small series of coughs occur, each increasing in intensity and viscosity before finally flourishing with a mucous-filled gag-crescendo.

While I've never seen or met this man, I do get upset when Ol' Chokey quiets down, which will happen often for weeks or months at a time. I start to think about what might have happened to him. Are his windows just closed? Or is he in the hospital on his death bed? Maybe he's already perished! Of course, he could be in Hawaii sipping rum out of a coconut for all I know. Whatever the reason, just when I think he's gone forever, his cough resurfaces--no better or worse than before. It's oddly reassuring to know that this fragile old man is still somehow cheating death after smoking for what must be 85 years.

But with the arrival of this NeighborGoodie, I fear Chokey may be gone forever:

I haven't heard his infectious cough for weeks now and the only clue left behind is this literature from the Sunrise Senior Living retirement community, which has hundreds of locations around the world.

As far as old age homes go, this place seems pretty nice. According to their website, they encourage independent lifestyles for their customers, including this wacky gentleman:

So if you're a crazy old person who likes to wear bucket hats, then this is the place for you! But I fear Chokey's children may have banished him to this home while leaving behind some of his more unique items, like this t-shirt...
...which I cannot figure out for the life of me:
Clearly, it is depicting some sort of underwater scene... but I'll be damned if I know what the crap it is. Sometimes it looks to me like a whale with a whole in it. Or it could be a scuba diver bent in half, wearing suspenders while trying to untangle himself from seaweed. Or it might even be a picture of Ol' Chokey himself, possibly wearing these rubber boots:

...although judging by the crust level on them, they haven't seen a drop of water in... ever.
Well, no matter where Chokey is, be it in the Sunrise Retirement home for the Sunset of his life or underwater tangled up in seaweed, or even dead and buried--he's still better off than those of us living in this hell-hole building Luxury in the Hollywood Hills.

Thou Shalt Not Steal

People steal things from hotels all the time. In fact, they want you to take many of these items: The shampoos, the pads of paper, the pens all bearing the hotel's logo... It makes sense to take some of these items. After all, who couldn't use an extra pen while traveling? Of course, I would never take any of these things for the same reason I don't want anything off the NeighborGoodies table: Who knows what sort of filthy animal was handling it before you? It's bad enough I have to see the crazies who leave things on the Big Blue Table. I can't help but believe that the the unseen, unwashed masses who were in my hotel room before me are even worse.

Which is why I'm disturbed that someone, somewhere--especially in a place as luxurious as the Hollywood Hills--would ever think it's a good idea to take one of these from a hotel:

This rubber no-slip mat that magically prevents you from killing yourself by slipping in the shower is one of the filthiest things (but not THE filthiest) that has ever found its way down to the NeighborGoodies Table. For the love of God, all the dirt, grime and disease that was on anyone before they jumped in the shower passes over this item on its way to the drain. People, please be aware, these things are not brand new when you step on them, and there's no way to tell how many people were on this thing before you, or what was oozing out of them at the time.

Now to the case at hand: Not only was someone disgusting enough to take this thing out of their hotel, pack in their suitcase next to their clothes and bring it home... This person then used it, realized that it was annoying and possibly a biological threat, then discarded it not into the fiery inferno that would destroy its germs, but into our laundry room where just anyone could take it.


This is likely the same type of person who takes the dirty-ass towels from hotels as well, despite the fact they feel like sandpaper and they often make you bleed when you use them. To hell with those towels, and to the hotels who think they are fooling us into believing that those filthy items are anything more than rusty razor blades sewn together.

And, most importantly, to hell with the NeighborGooder who thinks any of us want this rubber piece of Athlete's Foot.

Cork-Bored

Just how much crap do you have to put on a cork-board before it collapses under its own weight?


Apparently, just one poster for the movie Madagascar 2: Escape 2 Africa...

...complete with its thrilling WordArt™ inspired logo.

Luckily, there's a brand-new (and much bigger) replacement cork-board on the other side of the Big Blue Table...

...which, judging by the obscene layer of dust on its shrinkwrapping, has been just laying around at least since Madagascar 1 was released in theaters three years ago, waiting for the all-important memo or Cathy comic that would initiate it.

And correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that....

...a shoe print in the middle of this pile of dust masquerading as a cork-board? What's amazing is that the shoe print is also covered in a layer of dust, which means that after it was stepped on, it still did not move from its position on the ground, clearly in an area designated for walking, for quite some time.

Dirty Devils

Howdy! Hope your Halloween weekend was full of spooky, scary fun! The NeighborGoodies Table certainly saw its share of Halloween adventures over the weekend. On Saturday, this pre-packaged "Sinister Devil" costume showed up:

Despite one of Satan's sleeves hanging out of the bag, this costume appeared to be unused, the result of Halloween plans falling through, I assumed. But then a few hours later, this pitchfork appeared:
I realized that while Devil costume was, in fact, unused, the pitchfork wasn't there when I first took the photo of the costume-in-a-bag. What sort of Halloween Chicanery is this!? Why would someone remove the pitchfork from the costume? Clearly, there's something unholy happening in the halls here in the Hollywood Hills.

Here are the facts:

1. "Sinister Devil" costume is left, pitchfork having been removed.
2. "Sinister Devil" pitchfork shows up hours later, after someone had already taken the costume off the table, presumably to use it for a party on Saturday evening.
3. Someone clearly removed the pitchfork from the costume in order to use it in some sort of Halloween Massacre™.
4. In addition to the Pitchfork, two other possible murder weapons were found on the Big Blue Table! This pair of expensive, deadly scissors:

...which was clearly used to stab someone after the pitchfork had already been inserted into an oraface. Then there's this extremely dangerous...

...ice cream scooper... which was likely used to carve out eyes and brains of the Sinister Devil's victim!

A body has not yet been recovered in the neighborhood, but these pieces of terrifying evidence continue to pile up. Including the most frightening item of all:

...the young co-ed victim's pink thong! Because unless you were dead, there is NO OTHER REASON to leave your dirty effing underwear on my NeighborGoodies Table.

Clearly, not enough people were killed in my building over Halloween.

Umm...I mean "Have a great week!"