My arch nemesis / next door neighbor is calling the house during a Patriots game while I'm on an astral plane with friends. "Ugh I just hate being bothered" says Mom, oblivious to my personal polyphonic spree. Mom picks up the phone and invites her over. I chime in with a little rhetorical rhetoric. "Then why would you invite the most bothersome person we *know* over?" I am in rare form. My neighbor's a boozer, a mess, and an excuse maker, and constantly looking for validation from subservient people who would rather placate her, than challenge anything she says or does - when they do she sours, says your mean, and changes the subject. Picture Fran Dreschers voice combined with a life of cigarettes, divorce, and disappointment, and you'll have a mind's eye picture. Now she was coming over, again , to watch a game she didn't care about, again , to distract the entire family from the most important part of the game, again , while drunk, aga...