Holy Mackerel

It has begun. The War To End All Wars. Yeah. I went there. Remember this? Well, it was garbage day again yesterday. Notice the quality of the photo. It was done in the dark of night, as quietly as humanly possible. I was too afraid to go out onto the street to take the same shot as Em had done the week before, lest Her see me, come out and stab me in the eye with her wolverine claws. Hence, the rather poor photo quality. I have begun screwing with The Neighbours' minds, and it makes me happy to be alive. So, I told Dee to put the garbage on the OTHER side of our laneway Wednesday night. Yeah, the side that is still our side, but on HER side. Here, I'll show you again, from the other side of the street, in the daylight, so that you understand: I did this for two reasons. Reason Number 1: I was testing Her to see if she would once again move our bags over to the other side of the driveway. Reason Number 2: I was making a point in a passive-aggressive way, which is how ...

Today's post is brought to you by my favourite neighbours. Thank you for supporting my site, assholes. Today's post was actually going to be about something totally different, maybe about how it sure feels like spring around here, which is like a month early. I even saw a few flies outside the other day, which made me do a triple take while driving around town, and I almost drove into the postman who was probably in the middle of the road, so it wasn't even my fault. Whatever. So, back to my scintillating post of today. But before I do, I just wanted to apologize in advance for YET ANOTHER FREAKING POST ABOUT THE NEIGHBOURS. I clearly cannot help it. It's beyond my control. It's become an addiction of sorts, I'm starting to think. I might have to get help. And here is where Mr. Handsome would say, "Might?" So, like I think I was saying, the neighbours. Here I was, minding my own business (because that's what I do), and I happened to look out ...

To give you just a little idea of how confused and utterly "out of it" I am, I cannot even get the smallest thing right. Case in point: is it blue box week, or black box week? In our fair city, we alternate between recycling plastics one week, paper the other. It's the city's awesome and entirely economically-minded way to save a penny by forcing its residents to fill their bins to the brim, then buy another bin because one is almost never enough to last two weeks. Bins break because you try to stuff them as full as they can be filled, and then you fill them some more, and then they break, and then you swear loudly, and then your neighbours shun you even more. The big question around our house most every week is: Is it black box or blue box? And god knows why no one can ever keep it straight from one week to the next. We never know. Every week, it's as if it's the first week ever of having to figure out which box it is, because we all look at each other come ...