multiple choice monday

what does the crazy lady in your neighborhood look like? 

in my neighborhood she's about five foot three and pushing a solid two hundred. 

she has short hair that she somehow manages to wrap around tiny curlers, which i wasn't even sure people still used anymore. 

she wears her 'house shoes' outside and hangs out by the dumpster.

oh yeah, and she talks to herself almost as much as she converses with the neatly trimmed row of hedges that line the dumpster.

her constant proximity to the dumpster in and of itself is relatively harmless, or so i thought up until this morning. 

on my way to work i threw out a bag of garbage before getting into my car.  crazy slipper-wearing lady paused mid-rant to stare me down and say in a whisper just barely audible from my supposedly safe distance of fifteen feet, 'i'm watching you i'm watching you i'm watching you.'

as i thought to myself 'she's not really that crazy, she's just bored, or lonely, or waiting for someone to come pick her up, she's too lumpy to be dangerous, etc., etc.' i reached the oasis of shelter that is my car. 

putting the key in the ignition and turning it to hear the engine start with a quiet rumble, buckling the seatbelt, and settling into the driver's seat, i allowed the familiarity to almost shake the weirdness of the previous ten seconds away.

reversing out of my parking spot and craning my neck around to the left to make sure i wasn't going to hit any small animals or children, i was startled by what i saw in my driver's side mirror.

crazy psycho bitch was staring directly at me through the mirror.  her eyes burned with what at first i thought was anger, and then realized was more akin to the consuming desire with which a drug addict might stare down a pile of glorious dope right before pouncing upon it. 

she saw that i was leaving the area and bolted toward the dumpster, reached in, and appeared to be going through the very bag of garbage i had just thrown in the dumpster.

the view in my rear mirror as i pulled away was of her squat legs straining to propel her upper body over the lip of the dumpster. 

yes, really.

so now, the big question is what the fuckity fuck is my next move?

is it:

a- starve my monster for three days and lay in wait with him behind the dumpster and let him loose to feast on her lard ass

b- take pictures of her and draw satanic things on them and write scary messages to her and throw it all out in the dumpster when i know she's lurking

c- white bishop to black queen

d- go invade her territory and do my own version of crazy that may or may not include a sombrero in hopes of scaring her away long enough to buy an industrial wood chipper for all future garbage headed to the dumpster


please, help me before it's too late...

summersummersummertiiiiiiiime

picking flowers is fun.

eating peanuts from the shell is fun.

rainbows and waterfalls are fun.

hots dogs on a grill are fun.

sailboats are fun.

fireworks are fun.

fishing, hiking, and inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass until your lungs are so full they feel like they might burst are all fun.


what's not fun is inappropriate ass-scratching. 

thanks to the asshole mosquito residing in the pool of watery gunk at the end of my street, you can now observe me violently scratching the cluster of oversized bites on my left buttcheeck or squirming in extreme discomfort for the next seven to ten days.

spanks a lot, mosquito.  keep laughing, just wait until i pour some draino in your pothole pond...