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On Like Donkey Kong

Yes, folks, it's a twofer!  Two posts for the price of one in honor of the extra hour of sleep I got last night.  As has become tradition here at the Dogs, it's neighbor complainin' time.  This week's gripe comes from the trash found in the rocks outside of my porch door.  Apparently someone in the complex has a foot odor problem (big surprise), and he/she also has a vision problem and mistook a big pile of rocks for a dumpster.  I found a bottle of Fresh Fogger and immediately reached the following conclusions:


1.  Based on what I've learned from Law and Order, the bottle landed in my rocks based on a trajectory that started at an angle that objected in the courtroom based on the Miranda Rights. In other words, I'm pretty sure the bottle came from the apartment two floors above me.

2.  The smell of stinky feet that has permeated the breezeway was in fact caused by stinky feet.

3. The perp's hygiene problems extend far beyond feet and must be a cause of real personal embarrassment, given the lengths he/she went to hide the evidence.

4.  The perp sucks and is therefore on my revenge list.  I'm looking forward to using daylight savings time to wreak havoc on the blond who made me check her apartment for boogie men, so now I have to decide how to deal with Stinky Feet McGee.  I'm thinking of duct-taping several bottles of Fresh Fogger to his/her door as a nice little Christmas present.  Who's with me?

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