My neighbor moved in less than one week ago. I attempted to say hello to him and he ignored my friendly platitudes. In the early hours of this very morning, I decided my neighbor is stupid and I hate him. Around midnight, I had just finished watching American Pimp on HBO when I remembered it was trash day. I walked down the stairs and into my garage to put the trash cans out and I was smacked around like a trailer park wife with the pungent aroma of gasoline. My first thought was my car was leaking gas, so I checked underneath it. Nothing. I concluded that my neighbor was huffing gas in his garage like some middle school kids in a deserted park. I did not think too much of it so I shut my garage and proceeded upstairs to bed. Within minutes the smell of gasoline was everywhere and strong enough to make me nauseous. In a rational and calm manner I proceeded to yell obscenities out the window. I noticed emergency lights outside on the street and next to his customized, rusted Ford Bronco a team of police and firemen were circled around it. Apparently, MacGyver ruptured his gas tank with a screwdriver trying to change his oil in his garage and instead of finding a bucket or some empty liquid holding device to catch the falling fuel, he let the gas pour out all over his garage, started the vehicle quickly and drove it across the street leaking gas the entire way. He parked next to the gutter and let the gas leak into it the sewer and then walked back to inside and went to bed. In the end, he received a ticket, his piece of shit Bronco was towed away and my town home was awash in gasoline fumes until about 6:30 this morning. The stupid fucking bastard. I hope he trips on his front steps and the fall renders him immobile so I can walk by and kick him in the face until he dies.

Labels: l-i-v-i-n, rage, stupidity, the fairways