An Open Letter to my neighbor:
How long did it take you to attain the particular level of douche that you seem so proud to display to the neigborhood?
I mow the lawn every other week, and I usually avoid work like the plague, so I know simple lawncare is not some sort of fucking arduous task. It takes maybe a half-hour, possibly a full hour because you've got the biggest goddamn house on the block. Which is why I'm so aggrivated with you. Most of the time, I'm content to ignore the ninety-nine percent of humanity that tends to piss me off on a near constant basis. However, you have managed to earn a place in my cold, black heart, for two reasons.
1. You live in the most expensive house on the block. Your house is worth at least two million, far surpassing every other one story bungalow on what was a nice, if dull block to live on. You are single-handedly bringing down the property value of everyone else's house because you've decided that your backyard is closer than the town landfill. Which isn't so bad, until you consider...
2. The woman before you kept the house immaculate. And she was a ninety-three yeard old shut-in. I have a hard time believing that a thirty year old is more of an invalid than someone who gave reality a fond farewell years before I even met her.
Maybe you're too busy carrying in those camo gun bags all the time. That's the only reason I haven't approached you in person, you giant festering bowl of piss. I know that napalm and pipe bombs aren't difficult to make, and if you are running a militia out of your basement, I don't feel like interrupting a meeting of "Americans Of The Old Way", or whatever you name a nutcase militia. I'm not sure exactly what you call a militia, but I do know almost all of them have M16s and C4, and those are two things that interrupt the flow of my day. And in reality, I don't give a shit. I don't give a damn what branch of the government you want to overthrow or what insane reason you have for wishing to do so. Just, between building a steel-reinforced bunker to prepare for armageddon and timing how fast you can reassemble an AK-47 while blindfolded, get out and mow your fucking lawn.
How long did it take you to attain the particular level of douche that you seem so proud to display to the neigborhood?
I mow the lawn every other week, and I usually avoid work like the plague, so I know simple lawncare is not some sort of fucking arduous task. It takes maybe a half-hour, possibly a full hour because you've got the biggest goddamn house on the block. Which is why I'm so aggrivated with you. Most of the time, I'm content to ignore the ninety-nine percent of humanity that tends to piss me off on a near constant basis. However, you have managed to earn a place in my cold, black heart, for two reasons.
1. You live in the most expensive house on the block. Your house is worth at least two million, far surpassing every other one story bungalow on what was a nice, if dull block to live on. You are single-handedly bringing down the property value of everyone else's house because you've decided that your backyard is closer than the town landfill. Which isn't so bad, until you consider...
2. The woman before you kept the house immaculate. And she was a ninety-three yeard old shut-in. I have a hard time believing that a thirty year old is more of an invalid than someone who gave reality a fond farewell years before I even met her.
Maybe you're too busy carrying in those camo gun bags all the time. That's the only reason I haven't approached you in person, you giant festering bowl of piss. I know that napalm and pipe bombs aren't difficult to make, and if you are running a militia out of your basement, I don't feel like interrupting a meeting of "Americans Of The Old Way", or whatever you name a nutcase militia. I'm not sure exactly what you call a militia, but I do know almost all of them have M16s and C4, and those are two things that interrupt the flow of my day. And in reality, I don't give a shit. I don't give a damn what branch of the government you want to overthrow or what insane reason you have for wishing to do so. Just, between building a steel-reinforced bunker to prepare for armageddon and timing how fast you can reassemble an AK-47 while blindfolded, get out and mow your fucking lawn.