The Value of ASBOs

[Cliphead]

You're a contractor, why are you living in Drongoville?

[threaded]

Well, if it was bothering me, I'd be inclined to go over and help him solve his problem. Getting angry about such things is like grabbing a hot coal from a fire with the intention of throwing it at someone else, you'll be the one getting burnt...

[Kyajae]

Instead of whining like a spolit little kid, why not be a little neighbourly and offer to help fix it for him?

I don't call effing and blinding at 5.30am neighbourly so I'm not inclined to be ******* sympathetic. It's called expecting the little t0sser to take some responsibility and sort the problem.

What would you do? Fix his motor, then offer some counselling and aromatherapy?

[threaded]

Instead of whining like a spolit little kid, why not be a little neighbourly and offer to help fix it for him?

[Kyajae]

I post this message at this ridiculous hour of a Sunday morning. My two dogs are hyper because they think they’re going for a walk much earlier than they normally do. I’ve been up since 5.30am. My missus sleeps soundly and gently in her bed.

I mention the 5.30am slot because that’s the time my neighbour across the road goes to work on a Sunday. He works shifts. Not something to be sneered at; I’ve done it in the long and distant years and didn’t care for it much.

No, I write this post having been left to ponder the value of ASBOs on this early morning. For at 5.30am this morning, I was awoken by said neighbour cursing his car. The car is a Citroen something-or-other, the kind designed specifically for girlies. This individual, who incidentally appears only to have just emerged from the Clearasil-Stage of his life, acquired said vehicle about three weeks ago after writing off his last car (the court case for this is pending so matters pertaining to the incident are sub-judice).

So, clearly needing a car to get to work, he had no choice, or money to get anything better than this Citroen Girly Wagon; whose central locking has now intermittently failed. For the said individual now has to frequently enter the car via the boot, together with all the accompanying cursing etc.

Which is why he woke me up at 5.30am this morning with much louder cursing and expletives than we normally have to endure.

In this era of the Blair ‘Respect Agenda’ (which for those of you with memories that go that far back is about as limp as John Major’s ‘Back to Basics’ campaign) I’m left pondering whether or not this kind of incident was what the protagonists of the ASBO had in mind.

This idiot has two choices; get the car fixed or sell it for something that works. That way he can go about his business without disturbing people like me. Simple, yes?

So the solution, I conclude is that he does need an ASBO; an Acute Sense of the Bleedin’ Obvious.

And I’ll probably get one too, if I go ahead with this intense urge to tw@t the prat next time I see him.