So the big controversy in Justin Bieber’s life right now is not his monkey, which those snotty Germans wouldn’t let through customs. I heard something about it — they were worried the monkey might have a disease like the monkey flu or something equally disastrous.
Honestly, I don’t really know what it was all about because in Flounder Creek, the last monkey incident we had was when the Buccaneer restaurant had a menagerie out back and the only monkey they had ate some day-old scallops that gave him the monkey trots. That was not a pretty sight, because he kept flinging it at the caretaker, who was a one-armed ex-lion tamer. But I digress.
No, Justin’s biggest problem is his neighbors, who are complaining about his noisy parties, which last late into the night and keep the Kardashians awake. Chloe and Kanye just had a baby, and they need their rest in case their servants don’t show up for work.
With all the partying he does, it’s baffling how Justin finds the time to write all of those wonderfully brilliant lyrics — “Baby, baby, baby. You my baby, baby, baby. Oh, baby.” How does he do it?
Justin also has been racing around the community in his Ferrari, making lots of racket and leaving black skid marks on all the streets.
This, according to the covenant manual, is totally unacceptable. Paragraph six, line four boldly states that anyone caught breaking this rule will be smacked down by The Hulk, who lives two houses down from Kanye and Chloe. The mere sight of skid marks turns him green and he goes ballistic.
I say give the “Bieb” a break. He’s only 19, and kids just want to have fun. Sure, his net worth is $120 million, but he’s still just a kid. He’s just developing his style. Once he matures a little bit, he’ll be responsible like Lindsey Lohan.
Justin’s house costs $6 million, so one would think that the walls would be insulated enough to absorb the sound of the parties. That’s why I’m assuming that all the noise is coming from naked movie stars frolicking around in the pool and hot tub.
Now here’s the part I really found interesting. Justin Bieber lives in a community protected by not just one, but two, gates.
Once you clear the first gate, you have to know the secret handshake and password to access the second gate. This keeps the riff-raff out.
In my neighborhood, we don’t have a gate, but we do have a sharp curve that either slows you down or sends you careening into the river. We also have a couple of speed bumps. Well, to be honest, they’re not actually speed bumps but roots from an oak tree that have caused the asphalt to buckle. If you hit them too hard, it will take the undercarriage right out from under your truck. Many have discovered this the hard way.
Now, I’m no stranger to gated complexes, because we have several in Flounder Creek. But everybody in the county knows the codes. If, by chance, you forget the four-number code, all you have to do is keep punching zero until someone answers, then pretend to be the cable guy. Works every time. However, most of our gates are for keeping the pit bull away from the goat.