The hillbillies are back. This means WAR.

Right, so since this is the first time I’ve been online in MONTHS and nobody cared about my dumb blog before anyway, I doubt anyone will remember my rants about the hillbillies. (This is where you should go back through my previous entries and become acquainted with them.)

Having read said past entry, you now know about the clan of vulgar, dimwitted drunks camping in my backyard (well, technically it’s not MY backyard, it’s my grandfathers, but our houses are on the same piece of property) And they’re back. I had one blissful, quiet winter and the only trace of the hillbillies was the rusty old camper...and the woodsplitter...and the ATV...and the lawnmower sitting in the backyard. But now there’s people to go along with those inanimate objects. And I’m not so good with people.

It’s not like I don’t have a reason for loathing them - they make a ton of noise that upsets the dog and the ducks, and they plow their ATV over all the precious plant life in the woods around my house. My dog, who has major anxiety issues (just like me) is so nervous when they’re around that I had to schedule a vet appointment today to go get her sedatives. Because of the hillbillies. Because they’re here.

My grandfather, who gave them permission to squat in the yard, free of charge, is out of town. He doesn’t mind them being here because he never notices their presence one way or the other, and the thought that it may interrupt my or my mother’s life doesn’t occur to him at all. If he won’t tell them to leave - I am going to MAKE them leave…and take their ugly trailer with them, too.

The trouble is that I’m very passive-aggressive. I can’t bring myself to walk up to them and bring into light the fact that they are dirty, freeloading, dense hillbillies - call me a wimp, call me too polite, whatever. I just can’t do it. Instead, I set my alarm clock and race into the woods behind their trailer, screaming, at 3 o’clock in the morning, and glare evilly at them when I walk by during the day. So far, it’s been extremely ineffective - they’re too drunk for my screaming to wake them up, and they don’t care if a strange girl looks at them funny; they’re hillbillies after all, I expect they’re used to it.

I was going to go flip the fuse that supplies them with electricity tonight, and deprive them of their lights and air-conditioning - surely that would get their attention. But, I can’t figure out which fuse it is, and I’m afraid I’ll somehow electrocute myself in the process…

So for now, I’m stuck here, reflecting and planning. They’re NOT going to be coming here every weekend all summer - I WILL put an end to it. I’m just not quite sure how...yet. But I’m working on it.