I have an orange sitting on my desk and from the dismal view in my chair it looks to be like any other orange, but it's not. It's my orange and unlike every other ordinary orange in the world this one's been here since Monday of last week. How long does fruit keep? Will it attract any bugs if I leave it to rot? Will there be a pungent odor of citrus odiousness that follows people like an angry cloud of anti-vitamin C? Can you feel it? My little orange being the demise of the office I work in? People running... tripping... falling... and grasping at the tightly woven carpets trying to crawl away from the awful stench of my decomposing orange. Their fingernails digging into the Berber, clawing through stains that Joe left when he dropped his lasagna. They scream and choke their way through the gnat infested fog as they attempt to make copies of the latest TPS report. ...meh.

Anyways, the reason I'm here today is not to spew forth a wordy worthless rambling about a rotting little orange on my desk. I'm here to bitch about my neighbors... the doomsday house neighbors (on the left.)

We got pounded with snow over the weekend. There is snow ass deep everywhere, so unless you have a snowblower, it's going to take you days to get out of your house. I ran my snowblower and spent about 2 hours clearing my neighbor's (on the right) driveway in appreciation for all the times they've collected my mail or whatever. They are very nice, quiet people and I value their silence.

I was in the process of putting the snowblower away for the day, but I figured I'd make the path to my shed a little wider, and the boys love it when they can jump off the deck into a huge pile of snow. So I was preparing to move a great deal of the fluffy white shit when I heard someone yelling. I looked up and found a fiery beast standing on the other side of the fence. She had a mess of deep red hair falling down around her grumpy face and her eyes were swollen slits behind a heap of wrinkles. I wouldn't go as far to say she is old, but she looked as if life's been a little rough the last couple of years. Add a dash of slut, three parts alcohol, or a wonder bra and this woman could easily make resemblance to Lohan's mug shot.

I killed the auger in attempt to hear what she was saying..

Doomsday Neighbor: "this isn't working for me!" and with attitude she just stares at me while I'm trying to figure out what in the fuck she's talking about.

Me: "What?!?" I wait with baited breath for her response, but she takes too long. I mutter "whatever" and start the auger. Again I can hear the annoyance of yelling. I look over and she's eyeballing me like I'm about to start her children on fire.

D.N.: "Hey asshole!"
....now I have an eyebrow cocked, and I'm waiting ever so patiently for her to finish her idiotic statement.
"You blowing this shit into my driveway... isn't working for me!"

First of all, let me reiterate what I was doing. I was widening a path in my backyard and I was going to make a pile for Mr. 7 & Mr. 4 to jump into. Making a pile in my yard and she calls me an asshole. Cue anger.

Me: "Listen up bitch, I'd like to consider myself a nice fucking person and do things for my neighbors, but since you're obviously a psychotic bitch, you can have fun shoveling today."

She trudges through the snow and starts her car, slams her car door shut, and makes her way back to her house. I had half a mind to chase the bitch down and run over her with the snowblower for scientific testing, but instead I went inside and told A-me about my first encounter with the new neighbors.

I'll end my sweet little story with a question...
Why hasn't anyone changed the filter on this shallow fucking gene pool??

I think I'm gonna eat that orange now, and start a massive post on the doomsday house.