When I politely asked my neighbor to stop sunbathing in bikinis in front of my teenage son’s window, she retaliated by planting a filthy toilet on my lawn with a sign: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!” I was livid, but karma delivered the perfect revenge.
I should’ve known trouble was brewing when Shannon moved in next door and immediately painted her house purple, then orange, and then blue. But I’m a firm believer in living and letting live. That was right up until she started hosting bikini sunbathing spectacles right outside my 15-year-old son’s window.
A woman lying on a lounger | Source: Pexels
“Mom!” my son Jake burst into the kitchen one morning, his face redder than the tomatoes I was slicing for lunch. “Can you… um… do something about that? Outside my window?”
I marched to his room and peered out the window. There was Shannon, sprawled out on a leopard-print lounger, wearing the tiniest bikinis that could generously be called dental floss with sequins.
“Just keep your blinds closed, honey,” I said, trying to sound casual while my mind raced.
A woman opening curtains | Source: Pexels
“But I can’t even open them to get fresh air anymore!” Jake slumped against the bed.
“This is so weird. Tommy came over to study yesterday, and he walked into my room and just froze. Like, mouth open, eyes bulging, full system shutdown. His mom probably won’t let him come back!”
I sighed, closing the blinds. “Has she been out there like that every day?”
“Every. Single. Day. Mom, I’m dying. I can’t live like this. I’m going to have to become a mole person and live in the basement. Do we have Wi-Fi down there?”
A teenage boy frowning | Source: Midjourney
After a week of watching my teenage son practically parkour around his room to avoid glimpsing our exhibitionist neighbor, I decided to have a friendly chat with Shannon.
I usually mind my own business when it comes to what people do in their yards, but Shannon’s idea of ‘sunbathing’ was more like a public performance.
She’d lounge around in the skimpiest of bikinis, sometimes even going topless, and there was no way to miss her every time we stood near Jake’s window.
A woman sunbathing | Source: Pexels
“Hey, Shannon,” I called out, aiming for that sweet spot between ‘friendly neighbor’ and ‘concerned parent’ tone of voice. “Got a minute?”
She lowered her oversized sunglasses, the ones that made her look like a bedazzled praying mantis. “Renee! Come to borrow some tanning oil? I just got this amazing coconut one. Makes you smell like a tropical vacation and poor life choices.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk about your sunbathing spot. See, it’s right in front of my son Jake’s window, and he’s 15, and—”
“Oh. My. God.” Shannon sat up, her face splitting into an unnervingly wide grin. “Are you seriously trying to police where I can get my vitamin D? In my own yard?”
A furious woman | Source: Midjourney
“That’s not what I—”
“Listen, sweetie,” she cut me off, examining her hot pink nails like they held the secrets to the universe. “If your kid can’t handle seeing a confident woman living her best life, maybe you should invest in better blinds. Or therapy. Or both. I know this amazing life coach who could help him overcome his repression. She specializes in aura cleansing and interpretive dance.”
“Shannon, please. I’m just asking if you could maybe move your chair literally anywhere else in your yard. You have two acres!”
A startled woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, then reached for her phone. “Let me check my schedule. Oh, look at that! I’m booked solid with not caring about your opinion until… forever.”
I retreated, wondering if I’d somehow stumbled into an episode of “Neighbors Gone Wild.” But Shannon wasn’t done with me yet. Not by a long shot.
Two days later, I opened my front door to grab the newspaper and stopped dead in my tracks.
There, proudly displayed in the middle of my perfectly manicured lawn, was a toilet bowl. Not just any toilet. It was an old, filthy, tetanus-inducing throne, complete with a handwritten sign that read: “FLUSH YOUR OPINION HERE!”
I knew it was Shannon’s handiwork.
A toilet with a sign installed on the lawn | Source: Midjourney
“What do you think of my art installation?” her voice floated over from her yard. She was perched on her lounger, looking like a very smug, very underdressed cat.
“I call it ‘Modern Suburban Discourse.’ The local art gallery already wants to feature it in their ‘Found Objects’ exhibition!” she laughed.
“Are you kidding me?” I gestured at the porcelain monstrosity. “This is vandalism!”
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“No, honey, this is self-expression. Like my sunbathing. But since you’re so interested in giving opinions about what people do on their property, I thought I’d give you a proper place to put them.”
I stood there on my lawn, staring at Shannon cackling like a hyena, and something inside me just clicked.
You know that moment when you realize you’re playing chess with a pigeon? The bird’s just going to knock over all the pieces, strut around like it won, and leave droppings everywhere. That was Shannon.
I crossed my arms and sighed. Sometimes the best revenge is just sitting back and watching karma do its thing.
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
The weeks that followed tested my patience. Shannon turned her yard into what I can only describe as a one-woman Woodstock. The sunbathing continued, now with an added commentary track.
she invited friends, and her parties rattled windows three houses down, complete with karaoke renditions of “I Will Survive” at 3 a.m. She even started a “meditation drum circle” that sounded more like a herd of caffeinated elephants learning to Riverdance.
Through it all, I smiled and waved. Because here’s the thing about people like Shannon — they’re so busy writing their own drama that they never see the plot twist coming.
And oh boy, what a twist it was.
People at a party | Source: Unsplash
It was a pleasant Saturday. I was baking cookies when I heard sirens. I stepped onto my porch just in time to see a fire truck screech to a halt in front of my house.
“Ma’am,” a firefighter approached me, looking confused. “We received a report about a sewage leak?”
Before I could respond, Shannon appeared, wearing a concerned citizen face that deserved an Oscar. “Yes, officer! That toilet over there… it’s a health hazard! I’ve seen things… terrible things… leaking! The children, won’t someone think of the children?”
A firefighter holding a fire extinguisher | Source: Pexels
The firefighter looked at the bone-dry decorative toilet, then at Shannon, then back at the toilet. His expression suggested he was questioning every life choice that led him to this moment.
“Ma’am, making false emergency reports is a crime. This is clearly a lawn ornament,” he paused, probably wondering why he had to say a phrase like that as part of his job.
“A dry lawn ornament. And I’m a firefighter, not a health inspector.”
A firefighter staring at someone | Source: Pexels
Shannon’s face fell faster than her sunscreen coverage rating. “But the aesthetic pollution! The visual contamination!”
“Ma’am, we don’t respond to aesthetic emergencies, and pranks are definitely not something we respond to.”
With that, the firefighters left the property, but karma wasn’t finished with Shannon. Not by a long shot.
An angry woman gritting her teeth | Source: Midjourney
The fire truck drama barely slowed her down. If anything, it inspired her to reach new heights. Literally.
One scorching afternoon, I spotted Shannon hauling her leopard-print lounger up a ladder to her garage roof. And there she was, perched up high like some sort of sunbathing gargoyle, armed with a reflective tanning sheet and what looked like an industrial-sized margarita.
I was in my kitchen, elbow-deep in dinner dishes, and wondering if this was the universe’s way of testing my blood pressure when the sound of chaos erupted outside.
Close-up of a woman sunbathing | Source: Pexels
I heard a splash and a screech that sounded like a cat in a washing machine. I rushed outside to find Shannon face-down in her prized petunias, covered from head to toe in mud.
Turned out that her new rooftop sunbathing spot had met its match — her malfunctioning sprinkler system.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Peterson, dropped her gardening shears. “Good Lord! Shannon, are you trying to recreate Baywatch? Because I think you missed the beach part. And the running part. And the… well… every part.”
Shannon scrambled up, caked in mud. Her designer bikini was now accessorized with grass stains and what appeared to be a very surprised earthworm.
A shocked woman with mud on her face | Source: Midjourney
Following the incident, Shannon was as quiet as a church mouse. She stopped sunbathing in front of Jake’s window, and the dirty toilet bowl on my lawn disappeared faster than a magician’s rabbit.
Shannon invested in a privacy fence around her backyard, and our long suburban nightmare was over.
“Mom,” Jake said at breakfast the next morning, cautiously raising his blinds, “is it safe to come out of witness protection now?”
I smiled, sliding him a plate of pancakes. “Yeah, honey. I think the show’s been canceled. Permanently.”
A teenage boy smiling | Source: Midjourney
“Thank god,” he muttered, then grinned. “Though I kind of miss the toilet. It was weirdly starting to grow on me. Like a really ugly lawn gnome.”
“Don’t even joke about that. Eat your pancakes before she decides to install a whole bathroom set!” I said, sharing a hearty laugh with my son as we looked at the wall around Shannon’s yard.
Window view of an empty yard | Source: Pexels
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Sharon Stone rocks bikini at 66 – eagle-eyed fans spot interesting detail that has everyone talking
At 66, Sharon Stone is proving that she’s still got it.
Flaunting her gorgeous body in a jaw-dropping selfie, the femme fatal is attracting scores of admiring fans, praising her natural beauty.
In the same photo, some eagle-eyed fans spotted one scene-stealing detail and people just can’t get enough it!
Keep reading to learn more about what fans spotted!
Pennsylvania’s Sharon Stone keeps getting better with age.
The sex symbol of the 1990s, who turns 66 on March 10 next year, left fans swooning over her provocative performances in films like 1992’s Basic Instinct and Casino in 1995.
Speaking of her role as the femme fatale in Basic Instinct, Stone says in Vanity Fair, “It’s about more than just a peek up my skirt, people. Wake up. Women championed that movie; men were obsessed.” She continues, “…I was not the chosen one, not the golden gal, just the sex symbol who could sometimes get the key part if she also happened to be sexy.”
Beyond her roles as a seductress, the award-winning actor also appeared in comedy films like The Muse, as a gunslinger in The Quick and the Dead, and in science fiction hits like Total Recall with Arnold Schwarzenegger.
In her almost five decades as an entertainer, the mother of three adopted boys is still wowing audiences and doesn’t shy away from sharing photos that show off her toned figure.
Daring photos
In June 2022, the Irreconcilable Differences star shared a risqué photo with her 3.9 million Instagram followers.
The woman is seen standing by the pool wearing a huge smile and a green leopard print bikini bottom that’s only paired with a Turkish towel draped over her shoulders, partially concealing her topless look.
“Gratefully Imperfect on a Perfect Day,” she captioned the photo that captured the likes of 295,000 fans.
Fans jumped in, praising the woman’s eternal grace. “Gorgeous lady and a great lesson for all women,” writes one. “Imperfect? WHO? you are an absolute goddess,” shares a second.
How does she do it?
Crushing her physique, Stone shares with Vogue that she practices mindful living, which includes healthy eating, sleeping eight hours a day, and when she’s awake, she’s always moving: “I just move my body. I do it when I’m on set. I do leg lifts and back kicks and pop down on the ground and do some jackknifes.”
The star adds that she also wears weighted bracelets and still uses the ThighMaster, popularized in the 1990s by the late Suzanne Somers. “It is sensational. I put that between my legs while I’m watching TV…It is the kind of thing you can throw in your suitcase because it doesn’t take up any space.”
Finding solace in mindfulness, the woman – a Tibetan Buddhist – successfully balances her preoccupations with family, a thriving career and aging with meditation and discipline. “Pleasure is the thing that lasts for a moment and happiness is the thing that lasts with some continuation, so if we’re not happy for several days, we start to notice.” She continues, “Are we doing these pleasurable things in any kind of excess, whatever those things might be for you? Everybody has their own vices, but if you’ve delved too deeply into your vices, you might need to shake yourself out a little.”
Whatever she’s doing, she’s doing it right.
In mid 2023, the star of Diabolique shared another sassy pin-up look, where she’s seen with her signature blonde bob and wearing the same bikini bottom, this time with the top.
Offering fans a glimpse into her Beverly Hills home, people can see in the background a coffee table piled with books, a large framed picture of Marilyn Monroe on the wall, and a black and white leaf print sofa.
“Beautiful and natural! Unlike all those pumped and filters images around! always inspirational,” writes one fan, while another simply shares ‘Wow!”
But there’s something else in the photo that captured the attention of online users.
Peeking out from behind the pillow on the sofa is an adorable detail that stole the scene from the gorgeous actor.
Almost blending in with the upholstery is her French Bulldog Bandit, whom she adopted in 2018.
One fan gushes, “Your dog!” And another adds, “hahahahaha I saw the same thing! Did you see the look he has???? Looks like he said…’another picture?’”
What do you think of Sharon Stone at 66? Let us know your thoughts and then share this story so we can hear what others have to say!
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