So I found out yesterday that my old next door neighbor, Jason, who's around my age (a little older), and still lives next door to my grandmother, was shot 5 times this week -- in the legs, chest, and head. And lived.
The funny thing is that my grandmother is kind of irritated that he didn't die -- one of her friends had actually witnessed the incident and administered first aid and CPR to him, and Grandma said she told this friend, "Next time, call and ask me before you revive that little shit!" LOL.
Anyway, he's a little punk in the old meaning of the word, and since his grandparents died and he inherited the house, he's turned it into white trash central -- right next door to the house my grandmother has quietly lived in for 40 years. He has a thunderously loud white trash-mobile with one of those rattling bass stereos added for good measure, and likes to come and go at all hours of the night. He keeps pit bulls, and has at least 8 vehicles in his driveway and in front of the house, about 2 of which probably run. He sells drugs and has his druggy friends over, and collects guns. Nice guy, huh?
Strangely, yeah. We were friends when we were kids. He was the first person to play hard rock for me -- Metallica, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, and he had a pool room and cable TV. And going back even further to the "riding bicycles and playing War" stage. I vividly recall sitting on the bright blue carpet of their den and playing with LEGOs. We had a game where we would each build a car, and then crash them into each other, and whoever's lost the least pieces won. So I spent a lot of time over there. It was only after we were adults and he became involved in drugs that we drifted apart. It came to a head one day that I came over to his house and he had thick moving blankets over every window and an automatic pistol in a holster on his waist. He heard a noise, and drew the gun and searched the whole house all paranoid. After that I never went over there again.
Anyway, he married some white-trash girl, and apparently this girl's mom was getting beat up by her old man. She calls Jason (instead of the cops) for help, and he goes over there with a baseball bat intending to .. do whatever with it.
Instead, the guy unloaded his pistol into Jason, and ran off. It was later discovered that he had also just killed the wife moments before Jason arrived.
I feel bad for the guy not for this happening, but for it being the inevitable result of what he became. We were very similar. We went to the same schools, we were both children of divorce being raised by our grandparents... and next door neighbours. We both had everything we ever needed growing up, but we went different ways. I'm glad I grew up. It's sad that he didn't.
The funny thing is that my grandmother is kind of irritated that he didn't die -- one of her friends had actually witnessed the incident and administered first aid and CPR to him, and Grandma said she told this friend, "Next time, call and ask me before you revive that little shit!" LOL.
Anyway, he's a little punk in the old meaning of the word, and since his grandparents died and he inherited the house, he's turned it into white trash central -- right next door to the house my grandmother has quietly lived in for 40 years. He has a thunderously loud white trash-mobile with one of those rattling bass stereos added for good measure, and likes to come and go at all hours of the night. He keeps pit bulls, and has at least 8 vehicles in his driveway and in front of the house, about 2 of which probably run. He sells drugs and has his druggy friends over, and collects guns. Nice guy, huh?
Strangely, yeah. We were friends when we were kids. He was the first person to play hard rock for me -- Metallica, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, and he had a pool room and cable TV. And going back even further to the "riding bicycles and playing War" stage. I vividly recall sitting on the bright blue carpet of their den and playing with LEGOs. We had a game where we would each build a car, and then crash them into each other, and whoever's lost the least pieces won. So I spent a lot of time over there. It was only after we were adults and he became involved in drugs that we drifted apart. It came to a head one day that I came over to his house and he had thick moving blankets over every window and an automatic pistol in a holster on his waist. He heard a noise, and drew the gun and searched the whole house all paranoid. After that I never went over there again.
Anyway, he married some white-trash girl, and apparently this girl's mom was getting beat up by her old man. She calls Jason (instead of the cops) for help, and he goes over there with a baseball bat intending to .. do whatever with it.
Instead, the guy unloaded his pistol into Jason, and ran off. It was later discovered that he had also just killed the wife moments before Jason arrived.
I feel bad for the guy not for this happening, but for it being the inevitable result of what he became. We were very similar. We went to the same schools, we were both children of divorce being raised by our grandparents... and next door neighbours. We both had everything we ever needed growing up, but we went different ways. I'm glad I grew up. It's sad that he didn't.
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My profile's still pretty much the same, too, except for the location. I figured if I left it as Ann Arbor, I'd come up in an area search and she could put two and two together.
Once this all blows over, I'm going to switch my location, re-upload my pics, etc. I'll probably keep the username, though. I'm fond of it, and I was getting really tired of Sorcha.