THE SNUB IS ON

Apparently, our British neighbors have figured out Susie's little scam on screwing with their heads by stealing their "Home For Sale" flyers already.

Because they're not talking to us at all now.

We went for our walk last night and they were walking in our direction. As we passed each other, Susie gave them a chipper "Hello!"

They kept their heads down and kept walking without saying a word.

This cracked me up because ... for the most part ... the women on our street have all gotten a bit too hoity-toity for my tastes.

They all act like we live in the most affluent subdivision in the city ... when we're probably not even in the top 20 affluent subdivisions.

It's a nice subdivision.

But it's a middle class subdivision.

And these women are all getting so Junior Leaguey around here with the bright fancy ribbons in their hair and the little white tennis outfits and their global warming-causing SUVs.

So if you're a woman in our neighborhood who doesn't put her hair up in a scrunchy and cruise up and down the street in a $3/gallon gas guzzling piece of shit ... then you're snubbed now.

Ah well.

Screw 'em.

Maybe when they move, we'll get some decent folks in here that'll be more down to earth and not all about the hair scrunchies.

Well ... it's an object.

Just ... a very loose object.

We were racking our brains trying to come up with a cool party for him because all the kids at his school have invited him to parties with none of them in the same place twice.

So we were running out of options.

Until we discovered ....

Pump It Up.

They just came to town a few weeks ago, so it's practically a brand new place to have his birthday.

We went over there a few nights ago and ... my God ... if only we'd had places like this when I was growing up. My chubby little crew-cutted ass would have been jumping like a Mexican bean 24/7.

We walked in and Andrew just melted. He loves those big inflatable things that you jump around in and now he has a room full of them for 90 minutes.

The coolest thing about the place ... other than it's got a 25' inflatable slide in it ... is that the birthday boy gets to be first in line the entire time.

All he has to do is go up to the front of the line, tap the kid on the shoulder and say "Scram, Sam ... I'm the birthday boy. I go first on EVERYTHING!"

This is great because Andrew's not really all that into waiting in line.

He'll do it.

But he'll act like he's dying while he does it.

Anyway, we're hoping that our rash of throwing suck ass parties will turn around with this one.

I just hope the majority of kids in his class like to jump around like idiots as much as he does.

If not, I officially retire from party-throwing.