Dr. A and I don’t like our next door neighbors. That’s an understatement: we call them Mr. and Mrs Moron, which is not an understatement. I’m not sure what the over, under is on this but thinking about their annual Halloween conclave of knuckledraggers gave me an Aimee Mann earworm. Not a bad thing:
Meow. I am a nasty man sometimes but these people are malakas. Here’s only one example: they’ve lived next door to us for 8 years and I’ve only seen them walk their basset hounds once. Bad dog people, bad dog people..
I don’t like my next-door neighbours, either because they’re also animal-neglecting malakas. I adopted a cat from them, and within weeks of my getting him, he’d gained a couple of (much-needed) pounds (and stopped looking like a vaguely-stuffed tube sock on legs with a giant head and giant paws), gotten soft, and gotten glossy. He’s also much better behaved now, and loves me so much he tries to follow me everywhere I go.
Every time I think of those people, I tend to think ofLord of the Flies, though. I think it is generally the whole group of the younger generation running around and playing toy guns in the yard all day during the summer…they range in age from 20 to 29 years old. I’ll simply never forget being woken up by two of them vomiting off their back deck.
Why can’t these people all move to Malakaville and live next door to each other, rather than troubling decent people?