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They're not such happy little clouds now, are they?

"Baseball"? Don't you mean "baseball bat"?

You think you've got a rotten kids infestation on your hands? Try living across the street from a high school AND a college. There's a whole colony of the little bastards two doors down. They host a huge party every other Friday night and stay up until the wee hours shooting off fireworks. One night, I may have to wander up there and yell, "the Fourth of July is over" only to have a snide young Welshman yell back "St. Patrick's Day was months ago and yet I'm still drinking."

Two doors down in the opposite direction lies "The Rat House," which seems to be inhabited by angry feminists that dress in army surplus gear. There's nothing they hate more than when I pull up to my house at 2 AM in my scary van as they're stumbling home, threatening them with my mere existence.

Rotten kids! I may just have to destroy their mailboxes.

Also: Did you ever stop to consider that it may have been one of your older neighbors that attacked yours?

"Baseball"? Don't you mean "baseball bat"?

Haven't you ever heard of the sport of mailbox baseball? It's where kids drive around and hit mailboxes with a baseball bat. Go watch Stand By Me again.

Sorry, I misread it as "victims of *a* mailbox baseball." I was convinced it was a variation on the old pastime.

Huh, and here I thought mailbox baseball only happens in the countryside, like where my parents' house is (Getting one of those steel-welded Fort Knox mailboxes solves the problem). Though I suppose for most purposes Danang is in Eugene's countryside.

This guy that owns a Christmas tree farm down the road had problems with mailbox baseball, so he welded a mailbox together with steel, and then left a bag full of gunpowder in it at night. One summer evening my dad and I heard a very loud explosion and the sound of a car going off the road. Apparently some kids had target the box, which exploded, causing the driver to lose control of his car and get stuck in a drainage ditch. The kids took off on foot before the cops showed up, but I'm sure they found the punks using their license plate.

An exploding happy cloud mailbox would be awesome. To bad the owner probably wouldn't go for it.

A brick mailbox is also immune to mailbox baseball, not immune to the damn kids and not knowing how to drive daddy's truck, though. Damn kids, stop running over my mailbox!

After the Multnomah branch of the Rotten Kids Association took out the mailbox of my grandparent's neighbors, the husband built a brick shield around it. At some point, a driver swerved off the road and slammed into the side. The car was badly damaged. The mailbox survived. Viva las brickas!

Ours was hit by an F-150 doing at least 40, damn kids, exploded the thing and his parents were real bitches about getting it fixed.

It's been 10 days?! More posts! More posts! More posts!

Sorry. I've been busy blowing off on other people's blogs. I have things lined up, but I'm slow.

I, too, would like the floggings to resume.

Those steel ones don't always solve the problem... I've personally seen kids chop them down with an axe... gah.