an ode to stabbing

its all so clear.

I know now who I'm meant to stab. just as oqui and I were discussing the merit of long-range stab missiles...

my destiny hath been laid before me.


my neighbor...is going to die.

this bitch was (thankfully and decidedly) absent for a month or so...and I almost forgot how much I detest her. I woke up this morning (every ten minutes for 3 hours) to the sounds of two very irritated and unhappy dogs.

they sensed her presence. they hate her, too.

in fact, they hated her first. from the minute we moved in here...they couldn't stand her caustic, obnoxious, bitching voice.

and now...she's back.

since she hadn't been state-side for a while...I was willing to forgive her evils and flashed her a smile, and gave her a 'hello' when I let the mutts out (to bark and slather at her through the fence. they really hate her).

she replied with:
jhou. jhou need clean up leaves. cigarettes from street. fire. you clean up, now.

me:
excuse me? we don't smoke. who's putting cigarettes in our yard??? (she knows full well its her fat, sloppy, wife-beater wearing absent 83% of the time son-in-law).

her:
men from street. they put here. you clean.

me:
(trying hard not to say: ok. I clean 4 leaves. you clean 3 sinks, 2 couches, 8 cars, broken bed, 27 boxes and rest of your shit. ok?)
yes. leaves. men from street. I guess we ALL have a lot of cleaning up to do, huh?

she is, at this very moment, raking the side of my house and bitching loudly about it in arabic.

I'd prefer that she was removing her upholstered furniture from her front porch or disposing of one of their many disabled vehicles, but we can't always have what we want. now, can we?


so now...

I have to stab her.