Silver bracelets for Father's Day

So remember that guy? That guy down the street who is most certainly beating his live-in girlfriend and doing God knows what to her two little girls, who turn up on our porch at 7 a.m.? That guy just tried to have my sweet, wonderful, kind neighbor arrested for larceny.

That Guy bought a kitten for the two little girls, most likely to buy their silence about how he's beating up on Mommy. The kitten grew up a little into a teenaged cat, barely old enough to rebel against her parents or wear make-up, and lo! in a true after-school special moment (side note: best Lifetime movie EVER), she got pregnant. Four new kittens were then deposited into a box under the little girls' shared bed, joining the mother cat, two birds, and the rottweiler puppy, who was allowed to roam freely about the neighborhood, but that is another story for another bout of heavy drinking.

So Mommy and the girls moved out a couple of weeks ago and we all did a happy dance that they were gone and safe and no longer on our porches. However, the pets slowly but surely took over Mommy's abusee role, and strange things started to happen. The birds "escaped," (and if you believe that I've got a pill here that'll grow your penis five inches overnight), the puppy was sent to a new home, and the mother cat was shoved outside to fend for herself. Nice Neighbor Lady started putting cat food on her deck for the mother cat, who slowly became as skinny and haunted as an extra on Animal Cops. And then the final straw: the kittens were locked outside for two days with no food or water. TWO DAYS. And it's been 80-some degrees.

So Neighbor Lady went vigilante and took them to the no-kill shelter in Chapel Hill.

Somehow, That Guy found out, and with the help of his white trash sister, called the cops and had them come here to arrest Neighbor Lady. A very professional female cop showed up, heard the story from Neighbor Lady's sane, sober mouth, and then heard the other side of it from That Guy's shirtless, beer-can-holding one. Thank GOD justice prevailed, and Neighbor Lady only has to return the kitties, assuming the shelter still has them. And once again, I am appalled that someone like That Guy gets to continue breathing my air. Someone needs to bribe him to move - it would only take a sixer of Pabst and maybe some Cheese Nips.

ANYWAY, now that you know that sordid little tale, guess what? It's Rob's birthday tomorrow! I made him a horrific cake tonight, since he'll be working until all hours tomorrow - the poor stupid thing slanted over to one side, and the polka dots I piped on melted in the sun from the kitchen window and ran over the edges. And I had to make it in pie dishes, as my cake pans have mysteriously disappeared and are probably full of tongue depressors or guitar picks out in the shed. So the layers were a little bell-shaped... but I tried, and we ate it anyway, because it had chocolate icing on it. You could put chocolate icing on a pair of bowling shoes and we'd suck those puppies down before you could say "7-10 split."

We're headed to bed, where we will watch the first 10 minutes of Narnia and then pass out, because we're that cool. We may even refill our glasses of milk. Look out, Paris, there's a new party girl in town.

2 comments:

  1. Wow. I thought we had a bunch of fruitcakes in my neighborhood. You win.

     
  2. If I was your nice, kind neighbor lady, I would call the ASPCA. Hopefully, the kittens have gotten adopted by now. Can't the head of your HOA do something about this lovely neighbor of yours? I could send an anonymous tip if you like. :)