The weekly drama

HAH!  no drama to speak of this week.

From last week, my son booted the baby mama out, which I really hate, but will get used to, I suppose.  I didn’t have to live with her.  I worry that I won’t see Katie as much and she’ll be subjected to crazy people, but maybe not.  I feel bad for all of them.  The rise in childhood obesity corresponds exactly to the rise in divorce rates.  I read that somewhere.  On the internets.  So it must be true.

Goob is doing fine, blood sugar is fine, surgery is healing nicely, and he barked enough last Friday to incite our neighbor into even greater deeds of spying.  Crazy old man.  Jeebus.  On a ladder into our yard.  Peering non-stop through the fence.  Wiggling the bushes when we get to close to the fence line like he’s backing up not to get caught.   I flip him off a lot, don’t suppose it helps but?  Next I’m going to post a bible verse in big letters to the back of the house just for him.  About a spy being as bad as a murderer.  That should fan the flame a little.  He’s really starting to bug us.  He’s older than dirt but in good shape.  The little bastard will probably outlive me.  I think he’s pushing 80.  At least.  I’m going to swim naked a lot this summer in hopes of giving a heart attack.

Here he is, on a ladder on his side of the fence, looking into our backyard.  He’s an old perv, I think.  Maybe the naked swimming is a bad idea.

 

 

 

3 thoughts on “The weekly drama

  1. I’d sneak out there in the middle of the night and leave a little note for him that says the view would be better if he’d move the ladder about three feet to the left. Tee hee hee.

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