Thanks for the concern and no, I don’t have a kid named *^!&#!!
I am a great neighbor.
I will feed the dog when you’re out of town.
I will help you shutter should a hurricane come calling.
I will babysit the brats when you want your private sexy time.
And, of course, I will always have your back when the liquor runs low.
Yup – I am a GREAT neighbor … as long as you can deal with my Seasonal Weekend Tourette’s, that is.
Seasona … what?
Seasonal Weekend Tourette’s: An inherited disorder of the nervous system, characterized by an insatiable hunger for extra yardage, stiff arms and double coverage with occasional and unexplained movements (wall kicks, phone slams, fist pumps) and noises (what thuh?? You Gotta Be KIDDING Me! MUTHAH-FUKKKKKKUHHHHH!!!!!!!).
It’s ok – it runs in the family.
My dad has it, his dad had it, two uncles on my mother’s side have it and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen signs of it in my young nephew.
Lately I’ve been having some pretty nasty flareups which, apparently, haven’t gone unnoticed.
“Is everything ok?” the dudette next door probed as I edged my driveway this weekend.
“Yeah, sure. Why?”
“Just been hearing a lot of yelling is all …” she trailed off, nervously fingering her wedding ring.
Well, we have had kinda coolish weather lately (for Florida) so the hubster and I opened all the windows …
I bet dudette misunderstood the “WOOT WOOT! YEAAHHH BABY — get it, Git It, GIT IT!!!!” that rang out from my house Thursday night when Cutler brought home the bacon for the Broncos.
I bet that’s it. But that’s not so bad! Pffshhh — big deal.
Ummm hmmmm …..
Mmmmmmm …… uuuhhhhhh …..
Then agaiiinnnnn – now that I think about it … she may have meant the “WHAT in the name of holy fuckTARDENESS are you doing?!? JACKASS! DUMBSHIT!!!” that’s kiiind of, sort of, possibly, in a roundabout way been screamed, shouted and screeched from various rooms in the rez since midway through October.
Well! That’s when Romo went down! And T.O. has been a big ol’ useless bag o’ balls ever since!!
I can’t help it! I am powerless against my condition!
It’s not my fault!!!!
Trust me — you simply cannot stop the cacophony of cussing that must be spewed forth when something like that happens.
Don’t do it.
Don’t even try!
Seriously — you could rupture something.
So – I mean – I’m, like, all sorry to upset you and everything Mrs. Annoyed Neighbor Crybaby Whineyhead, but I suffer from SWT (aggravated by poor Fantasy Football performance) and there’s no cure ’till February.
::: … the first step is admitting you have a problem, right? … :::
Can I still come to the holiday block party?
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