Saturday, May 12, 2007

Stupid Neighbor

My stupid white trash neighbor with her damn barky dogs is out on her deck smoking like a chimney again. I'm all for individual rights, but it sucks that her smoke somehow always makes it inside our house. Her deck is just a few feet from our living room window, the one I always sit by. It's a beautiful day and I don't want to close the window. But I need to figure out what to do about this on a larger scale. I can't be second-hand smoking at least three ciggies a day here if I'm going to stay pregnant. And she needs to control her damn dogs.

At least she cleaned the piles of garbage, leaves, and dog poop out of her tiny back yard. I think she only did it because it was starting to smell as the weather warmed up.

Townhouse life was fine until this nasty woman moved in. The only good thing about her is that at least the smoking will make her die earlier. Unfortunately that doesn't help us right now.

This morning I made the terrible mistake of giving Wendy a whole piece of turkey bacon in exchange for a few barks. I know now that this was a terrible mistake because she is resting comfortably against my chair and passing copious amounts of gas. Worse, the gas smells slightly of turkey bacon.

Steve is down South with his parents this weekend. He's helping them paint the homestead and visiting some plantation homes. They are visiting Greenville, MS, today. I just looked it up and it seems they happen to be visiting on the day of the famous Catfish Races.

I have to admit, I wouldn't have minded seeing the Catfish Races. I guess they race them in glass-covered tracks filled with water. That's something you don't see every day.

I especially would have enjoyed it if it were followed by the consumption of a catfish po'boy. Mmmm... catfish po'boy.

I try to limit my trips to see the in-laws because I have an almost incapacitating cat allergy, and they have two cats inside and dozens outside. The inside cats are the ones that make it tough to breathe, but the outside cats are becoming far more disturbing. Steve's dad is an animal lover and enjoys feeding the (mostly feral) cats, so over the years the cats have stuck around and bred with one another. A mother with her son, a brother with his sister, and now they have a handful of cats hanging around the farm in various stages of deformity.

Last Thanksgiving, Steve's brother-in-law came in from one of his many visits to Wal-Mart in a state of utter revulsion.
BIL: WHOA! Did you see that cat out there hopping around with its arms stuck out to the side and its butt up in the air? What the heck is THAT?
FIL: Aw, you mean Flipper?
Next time I go, if Flipper is still around, I'll have to take a picture. He (wisely) stays under the shed most of the time, though, so he's a tough photo subject. Here's hoping his lineage stops with him.

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