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5:34 a.m. - 2005-10-18


I love my wife.

Last night, before it got dark, we went for a walk/bike ride.

I walk ... they bike ride. I don't have a bike. Nor do I want one. I'm more than a little scared that if I sat on a bike, my ass would swallow those tiny little seats and would be forever lost somewhere deep inside my colon.

Coming back from the bike ride, Susie noticed the British guy who forced us to have a block party that nobody came to standing in his yard near his "For Sale" sign.

"I'm going to go talk to him," she said, pedalling off in his direction.

Naturally, I thought she was going to go over there, pull up in his driveway, and then veer off and start chasing him around the yard on her bike until she ran over his skinny little British self.


She went over there and was very civil as I walked Andrew up OUR driveway and we went inside.

Susie came inside a few minutes later and told me that they're moving because they need a bigger house and they're building one in a more affluent neighborhood because his wife is 25 and thin and has perfectly blonde hair and therefore, she needs to live in a nicer neighborhood because heaven forbid the Junior League ever accept a woman from her CURRENT neighborhood because our homes cost less than half a million dollars.

I'm not saying this out of bitterness ... but they DO have the smallest, worst layout of a house in the neighborhood.

It looks nice from the outside, but there's so much wasted space inside that it resembles the inside of Nicole Richie's skull.

Apparently, His Majesty never mentioned dicking us on the block party, which is fine with my wife.

And now it's fine with me.

Because my wife ... she be a dangerous crayzee bitch when she wanna be.

Last night she put her plan into effect.

At 10:00, she snuck over to the Brit's house, opened up their little "Info Tube" on their For Sale sign ... and took every one of their flyers that described their house and gave the price of it.

Today, when the Brit sees it's empty, he's going to jump for joy and restock it with more flyers.

Tonight, she's going to steal them all again.

And this is what she plans to do for the next several weeks until he spends all his savings on these flyers.

This is her plan for getting back at the guy for forcing us to spend our entire weekly grocery budget on one meal that nobody came to ate.

We have now eaten BBQ chicken five of the last seven meals.

Which sucks.

But doesn't suck nearly as bad as thinking that tons of people are interested in buying your home when in actuality ... nobody can even get the information sheets because your crazy assed vengeful neighbor keeps quietly stealing them every night.

I love my wife.

But I AM pissed with myself for not coming up with such a brilliant idea first.

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