Dear Crazy Neighbor Lady:
I'm your next-door neighbor.
You know, the one who moved into the house with the yard that your eerily-silent, non-restrained, bug-eyed, UGLY Basenji dog comes over to shit his brains out in every day?
Yellow house with brown trim? Yes, that's me. Poop-and-pee-colored house, I used to joke. All humor does have a kernel of truth, turns out.
Unfortunately, you have some idea that I'd like to get closer to Shit-Not-My-Own and so you insist on letting your eerily-silent, non-restrained, bug-eyed, UGLY Basenji dog come over and crap his fool ass off in the lush bounty which is my backyard.
Figure 1: Example of the fecal scourge of my yard, courtesy Wikimedia.
If I had a dog - and I assure you, if I did, it would not be anything like your eerily-silent, non-restrained, bug-eyed, UGLY Basenji - then perhaps I'd feel okay about having to deal with its turds in a socially acceptable manner, i.e. pick them up with a plastic bag and dump them in the garbage.
But since I don't have a dog, I'm running into some cognitive dissonance here. Namely, why should I have to pick up the shit of your eerily silent, non-restrained, bug-eyed UGLY Basenji? The likes of which often features bits of bright plastic and string amidst the foulness?
Lady, to be frank, you are a lunatic. Your make-up application is reminiscent of an blind trainyard whore one might find underneath a passed-out hobo. You come out of your house at all hours of the day wearing strange garb, hollering and dragging around bits of refuse from your garage and calling for your various animals to come back (after they've ostensibly shat in my yard). You wear strange bandanas over your wrists after your carpal tunnel surgery. You have a rotating crew of ne'er-do-well children who apparently see fit to stick you with wretched animals like the eerily-silent, non-restrained, bug-eyed UGLY Basenji, after they play too much World of Warcraft (when not at their jobs as pizza delivery men) and their girlfriends dump them.
And speaking of dumping. Holy Coincidence, Batman! My lawn has become a dumping ground, too! The symmetry of motif is astounding!
Back to the point. This is my long-winded, round-about way of recommending, though you are clearly addled, that you pick up after your creepy, aestethically-deficient dog.
Since this is highly unlikely, I'll toss out some more ridiculous requests: please consider using these biodegradable earth-friendly poop bags instead of regular plastic sacks. I am considering buying some, as I frequently find myself indecorously stooping on behalf of your eerily-silent, non-restrained, bug-eyed UGLY Basenji.
Though as neighbors we must tolerate each other, there's no reason the planet should also suffer perpetual plastic-wrapped insults from your grody dog.
Your Secondhand Nation Neighbor