Friday, August 15, 2003

Late Night/Early Morning 'Snack'

Imagine my surprise when I took the dog out around 1:30 AM today and saw the neighbor's kid, Cheeto*, leaning into an idling vehicle's open door and obviously discussing some topic of great importance** (with an accompanying modern urban soundtrack) with the driver.

Roger's bladder is on an odd schedule and I can expect to loose him upon Mother Nature's majesty at any time of the day.

He does not take kindly to folk parking in front of HIS home--just like his old man (we share lots of common traits...although my outdoor urination has been on the wane as I learn to properly operate these crazy waterclosets found in most homes these days and I still have a proper three-piece set as far as I can tell).


I was disturbed and irritated by this tuddly 19 year old's indifference to the late hour and our respective neighbors slumber (other than my own...I'm a Night Owl...but I'm still working on the costume and utility belt; my secret hide-out--The Underground Aerie--was completed thanks to a charitable contribution from the Geeks-With-Aliases-Foundation within the last fortnight) due to the booming volume of the music reverberating from the idling car's stereo system.

You damn shits, I thought.

Roger was in agreement as he made an attempt to charge them, barking all the way.

I quickly (who, me?) restrained the galumphing bulldog and shot a bevy of dirty looks in their general direction; to no avail as the both of us were ignored completely. With a certain amount of effort I was able to wrangle Roger into the backyard in order for him to complete the task we originally had set out to accomplish (watering the flowerbed in highly nutritious canine whiz).

A moment or so later Cheeto pried herself into the vehicle and it pulled away with the music cranked up even louder (to eleven?) complimented by the obviously not-in-working-order exhaust system. today.

It was with all of this in mind that I have decided to set a trap to ensnare Cheeto and send her off to work in in the stockyards down by the river and give our community the peace and quiet we deserve.

First I'll need to get myself a Restaurant-Sized vat of Kool Whip (Sam's Club here I come), a bendy straw, and a porto-bamboo cage. Once assembled I will don my aforementioned nearly completed Nocturnal Vigilante ensemble and serve Justice to her with a plentiful Dollop of Whoop-Ass-Cream.

You'll see.***

(again...curmudgeon-y faux-oldster with some sorto superhero delusion)

*Cheeto gained this moniker the day I witnessed her walking down the street with an open Family-Sized bag of said cheese snacks, stuffin' and munchin' all along the way.

**Potential topics (probably) Included:
-What time do convenience stores shut-down the weiner-roller machines?
-Canadian Bacon: Over-rated?
-Licorice Preference: Nibs or whips?
-Which rapper really speaks to you? MC Jabberjaw or Skoal Mo' Wee?
-Should I get my hair dyed the color of seal steaks?

***Ahem. It does appear that this True Story quickly derailed. I never claimed to be an Engineer of any Casey-Jones-ian skills. Oh well.


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