The neighbor’s upset because I peed in his pool.  I wasn’t swimming in it…I just sort of stumbled over there and peed in his pool.  And now he’s upset.  But he’s not nearly as upset as he’s going to be after I dynamite his lawn.  I’m doing this for his own good, of course.  That poor, miserable  bastard has been beaten down over decades by his troll of a wife, who is uglier than a barrel full of busted assholes and known for driving around in her shitty Prius with her husbands testicles hanging from the rear-view mirror like dice.  She is horrible, and spends most evenings under a bridge feeding on goats.  Anyway, this guy has nothing in life anymore except his lawn and his pool.  His entire identity is wrapped up in those two things.  Whenever Jose and the Army of Gardeners mow the front lawn, this asshole is out there as soon as Jose et al. depart, mowing his lawn a centimetre shorter than my lawn, because he simply could not tolerate having longer grass than his neighbor.  I keep meaning to go out there after he’s done and completely buzz my lawn.  That would put him in quite the quandary: to preserve the dignity of his lawn, he would have to destroy it.  But I never have the energy.
But now this friend of mine is just back from Alaska with a bunch of seal bombs that I’m just aching to try.  By blowing up his lawn, I will be relieving him of a burden he has subconsciously be crying out to be relieved of.  There is the problem of The Law, of course.  Gosh darn The pesky Law.  It’s my own fault for living in The Haunt, which is well within the city limits of Fecal Creek.  Which means no discharging of firearms or causing explosions allowed.  Which sucks.  Outside of the city limits, in Anhedonia County, it’s almost anarchy: fireballs on the horizon at dusk.  People blowing shit up all over the place.  They burn their trash in huge barrels.  They dry their sheets on a line outside.  I like the way they live.  But here I sit, in The Creek, with a huge bottle of whiskey and about a dozen seal bombs and an open contempt of my neighbor’s lawn.  Perhaps I should just take some NyQuil and calm down.

N.P.: “Rock El Casbah” – Rachid Taha