I stepped out to get my mail this afternoon, narrowly missing a steaming pile of dog turd, courtesy of the neighbor who persists in letting her growly animal wander through my yard. This is the same individual who puts out her garbage on Friday afternoons when pick-up isn't until Thursday.
One of her sons (the one who zings through stop signs while she beams with maternal pride in the passenger seat) graduated from high school on Monday, and the deflated balloons testifying to that fact still hang from her mail box. I expect them to be there at Christmas.
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