by Buck

January 1, 2008

A few weeks ago, I told you the story of my neighbor who has a coon dog sequestered in his back yard which howls at all hours of the day and night. It’s an annoying animal, but I’ve learned to tolerate him. Apparently some of the other neighbors are less willing to put up with it. I think I’m going to start calling him “Bumpass.” Remember in that classic tale “A Christmas Story”….you know the movie that TBS shows REPEATEDLY at Christmas that made child actor Peter Billingsly millions of dollars, but cost him a lifetime of self-respect? Yeah—that one.  They had those hillbilly neighbors the Bumpass clan with their pack of hounds that ravaged the Christmas turkey at the end. Classic.

Anyway, Bumpass was telling me this week he got a new shock collar for the dog. I guess these are normal training tools when working with dogs. Using negative reinforcement, the collar is supposed to give the dog a “gentle sting” to make a corrective action. I was talking to him across the fence and Bumpass said he was going to use it on himself first….since he was going to hit the dog, he thought it only fair to use it on himself first. The settings are from one to 10….he kept shocking himself in sadistic fashion up to number 8….and literally knocked himself to his knees.

I found this amusing and horrifying all at the same time. So the other night—the old hound is raising 8-degrees of hell and Bumpass tries out his new toy. The dog laughs at him all the way up to level 8. Keep in mind—level 8 put Bumpass on the ground. He cranks it up to 10…which is around Ted Bundy level. I’m pretty sure I saw the dog light up when he hit the remote control….and the dog kept barking. Bumpass flew into a tirade of cusswords and started screaming and carrying on. A funnier thing I haven’t seen in a while.

Another classic from my beautiful neighborhood to tell you about was my next door neighbor who’s only functional when drunk. He bought his wife a hot tub for Christmas. He and another holler monster were out there pouring a concrete pad for this thing on Christmas Eve. Predictably, they were both sauced and had beer bottles sitting around everywhere. I had to laugh Christmas morning when I walked out to the street and noticed there were three long neck beer bottles upside down and stuck in the now dried concrete slab. I’m sure there’s a story there. What’s more, they decided to sign their work---and the hired help misspelled his name. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Larry spelled with only one “r.”

In case any of you give a flying turd, I got a miter saw with a laser guide and a new clock radio for Christmas.

I rented the new Harry Potter movie the other night. I watched the first 15-minutes and went to sleep. I woke up about halfway through—watched five more minutes and dozed back off. When I woke up the second time, the credits were rolling. I’d give it a half a thumb up.

There are about 500 other things I’ve been planning to tell you about…but of course now that there’s time to write about it—I forgot everything. Guess I should pull a Jeff Kay—go completely gay, and carry a fucking NOTEBOOK to record all of the sad and dumb things that happen in my miserable life so I can relate them to you at a later date. Therefore you can see how great your life is since you don’t have to live mine. It’s a concept that seems to work for Jeff, maybe I should try it.

Buck Out

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