Fresh, Hot Wastes of Time

Dear fuckstains,

I suppose you think that it’s cute, setting off firecrackers all night. You think it’s funny to set off M80s one at a time while driving slowly past the house. You think that putting a gross of black cats in a tin garbage can and lighting them is great fun.

Know what I think? I think you’re a giant waste of air. If I had my way, I’d light bottle rockets and Roman candles and aim them at you. You’re lucky my husband (for once) has the calmer head. I am letting him deal with you. It is better, at this time, if I do not do it myself.

However, if you wake up my children one more time, I will personally flay and castrate you stinking good for nothing wastes of air.

Now don’t you have something better to do, like taunt others about the way they dress, or get drunk and drive and kill a carload of people, or have a nice 4:20, or whatever it is the cool kids are doing these days?

Love,
Your Neighbor

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