Fuck you, bitchy ghetto neighbor!
Sunday started out just great. My dad gave me the day off from shingling, so Brat and I got to enjoy the one day of the week we've got off together, sans Frances, who was over on The Rock. We lazed about until we got enough energy to get up and make coffee. After that, she's puttering around and I'm practicing quick drawing my .45, when all of a sudden I notice that an animal control officer is at my front door.
It seems that somebody complained about our cats. Apparently, they've been entering other people's houses, and crapping in other people's yards. According to the animal cop, the former is a trespass issue, whilst the latter is property damage. We've been Officially Warned. Next step will be a ticket.
Now in this neighborhood, I've had my tire slashed, my hood dented, my antenna broken off and my wheel hubs locked. I've seen a half a dozen drug deals directly in front of my house, and two blocks away there's an honest-to-God open air drug market. I've been almost run over by a 'banger, I've seen the police chase a man through our neighbor's yard and a couple of months ago, a man was shot and killed in a parking lot two blocks away. A week can't go by without us hearing gunfire. In the face of all of that, our neighbor called kitty five-0, 'cause our cats crapped in their yard.
What kind of a set of priorities is that? Sarah and Frances and I have cleaned up every scrap of litter on that block several times. We're friendly, we talk to the neighbors we know and smile at the ones we don't. We park unobtrusively, and we don't have loud parties. Beyond that, we don't, you know, sell crack or kill people.
Despite all that, one of our neighbors called the animal cops on us. The animal cop knew to come to our door 'cause the neighbor gave them our address, which they got from our kitties' collars -- it was written right next to our telephone number. Rather than calling us, rather than talking to their neighbor, they called the animal cops.
As of now, the cats are indoor cats. Which means we had to get the litter box back out, which means we're never more than ten feet away from a cat turd or a cat trying desparately to escape. I am now a jailer of cats.
All of which is a long way of saying, fuck you, you bitchy fucking ghetto denizens. Fuck you for calling animal control. Fuck you for not talking to your neighbor. Fuck you for thinking kitty crap is worse than slanging crack. Fuck you right in the ear. Fuck you a thousand times!
Thank you for your time and attention. Take care and happy Monday!
It seems that somebody complained about our cats. Apparently, they've been entering other people's houses, and crapping in other people's yards. According to the animal cop, the former is a trespass issue, whilst the latter is property damage. We've been Officially Warned. Next step will be a ticket.
Now in this neighborhood, I've had my tire slashed, my hood dented, my antenna broken off and my wheel hubs locked. I've seen a half a dozen drug deals directly in front of my house, and two blocks away there's an honest-to-God open air drug market. I've been almost run over by a 'banger, I've seen the police chase a man through our neighbor's yard and a couple of months ago, a man was shot and killed in a parking lot two blocks away. A week can't go by without us hearing gunfire. In the face of all of that, our neighbor called kitty five-0, 'cause our cats crapped in their yard.
What kind of a set of priorities is that? Sarah and Frances and I have cleaned up every scrap of litter on that block several times. We're friendly, we talk to the neighbors we know and smile at the ones we don't. We park unobtrusively, and we don't have loud parties. Beyond that, we don't, you know, sell crack or kill people.
Despite all that, one of our neighbors called the animal cops on us. The animal cop knew to come to our door 'cause the neighbor gave them our address, which they got from our kitties' collars -- it was written right next to our telephone number. Rather than calling us, rather than talking to their neighbor, they called the animal cops.
As of now, the cats are indoor cats. Which means we had to get the litter box back out, which means we're never more than ten feet away from a cat turd or a cat trying desparately to escape. I am now a jailer of cats.
All of which is a long way of saying, fuck you, you bitchy fucking ghetto denizens. Fuck you for calling animal control. Fuck you for not talking to your neighbor. Fuck you for thinking kitty crap is worse than slanging crack. Fuck you right in the ear. Fuck you a thousand times!
Thank you for your time and attention. Take care and happy Monday!
posted by DirtyBird at 09:23
1 Comments:
It's quite amazing what people are capable of when they have any hint of anonymity. But you, of all people (once feilding customer service calls) are quite aware of this.
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