[Neen]

So last summer I was at home and the neighbor(I think--I know nothing of my neighbors, and I'm fine with that)boy seemed to have lost his dog, or mentally challenged sibling (I don't care which). He was calling for the damned thing for a good 30 to 45 minutes "Trevor~! Com'ere, boy~! Trevor~!" ad infinitum in an annoying pubescent voice. It, of course, got on my fucking nerves, so I shouted "Your fucking dog is dead!" at least ten times. If you'd've set it to a beat you could've called it a duet.

Earlier this year I found out that, what I believe is the house that the little fucker was residing in, the patriarch of the house passed away not too long ago, and the matriarch (listen, I don't know if they were the parent or not, nor do I care) let it go to pot because of it, and the bank foreclosed on it.

I should get some kind of medal or sumthin'.