if arsony wasn’t illegal…

Just a few minutes ago, I was sitting at my desk working on some freelance stuff. The General was out on the porch spending some quality time with the laptop and open windows. The Boy was trying to find a flashlight so he could find a book that was under his bed. Suddenly, it sounded like the 4th of fucking July in our backyard. The houses in Northeast Minneapolis are fairly close together. We couldn’t really see anything out the windows; we could just hear shit exploding relatively closeby. After reading this article today, I decided to investigate since I didn’t feel like finding a new place to live.

I went downstairs while the dogs were going ballistic, headed out the back door and noticed one of our downstairs neighbors was in the front yard. It wasn’t him and it sort of looked like he was doing the same thing as me – trying to figure out who the hell was about to burn the neighborhood down. About the time I was walking into the alley, the Giant Turd that lives next door comes flying out of his back door asking screaming at me to find out if I’m the one lighting fireworks. (Dude, I’m 31 fucking years old and it’s a work night. I have a 12 year old child upstairs. I foster animals for Pete’s sake. Do I fit the profile of shooting off hundreds of fireworks in the middle of the 10 o’clock news by myself with no audience to impress?)

As much as I would have loved to answer with a myriad of words The Boy isn’t allowed to say, I just answered with “No” and I’m just it was in a very unfriendly way. He responded back again in his sweet screaming tone: “Then quiet the fuck down!”

I’m sorry. Did you just tell me to quiet the fuck down, sir? I can’t remember what I said exactly, but I’m pretty sure it bordered on “Jesus Christ, you crazy fucker”. And then he went inside and slammed the door. This is the same guy that chased me out to my car within a month of us moving here to tell me I needed to “Clean the fucking shit out of the backyard” before he called the cops.

His house is for sale. It kinda makes me want to do things like shit on his sidewalk anytime there’s going to be an open house. I can make sure he doesn’t get the $299,900 he’s asking for his crappy house.

What's up?