I’ve often related to you the sordid stories of my nymphomaniac neighbor across the street. Well, she’s gone to the beach this week with the “flavor of the month”. I almost shat when my neighbor told me that. “Flavor of the month” sums up this woman’s sex life. She’s lived there three years and it’s been an endless parade of men. I’m pretty sure she consumes all of the sex they are able to provide, and then just when they are getting comfortable, burns them in a basement furnace.

She has a big boxer dog called “Duke.” I’m not sure what she was thinking when she asked the little secret next door to take care of him while she was gone. He’s a huge animal. He’s constantly full of energy and he’s always either tied up in their backyard or he’s sequestered in a basement room. The dog has a lot of pent-up energy. Well, naturally the secret next door blew it and turned him loose. He ran like a wild animal through yards up and down the street with the secret and a group of her insane friends chasing after him. Frankly, I’d run too with that brood of tricycle motors chasing me. It’s been quite an entertaining show, so long as he’s not destroying my landscaping.

The secret next door has a pretty poor track record with dogs. She’s a budding PETA activist, often giving me lectures when I hang dead deer in my backyard to be skinned. Anyway, despite her obvious affection for animals, things tend to get a tad out of hand. One day she decided to give her own chow hound a bath. She used an ENTIRE BOTTLE of Selsun Blue. I looked on as she chatted away and poured the whole thing onto the dog’s back and began to rub it. Then she pulled out the water hose and turned loose a stream of water that would blow a hole in a wall. The dog went completely ape shit and started running around their fenced-in back yard for his life. The young secret was chasing him with the high pressure hose, occasionally firing off a shot that would cause the dog to yelp and lather to boil up on his back. Eventually she cornered him and started letting him have it. The dog looked like a fast moving cloud. There were soap suds all over the back yard. She was soaked, the dog was soaked, and shit was knocked over. Then her mom walked out. The mom, who has little to no control, tried to preach a sermon, but the youngster was having none of it. Soon the mother was soaked and covered in soap as they attempted to clean up the dog. What a neighborhood.

Back to the subject of Duke and the nymphomaniac across the street. I guess it was a couple of years ago that I was coming in from work. I sat down on the front steps to pull off my boots. Since it was summertime, the windows across the road were open and I heard the “flavor of the month” on the telephone, obviously talking to the Nymphomaniac Neighbor. He became enraged about something and let loose a stream of cussing that would have offended a Teamster. He ended the conversation with a couple of well placed FUCK-YOU’s and threw the cordless phone against the wall. I walked in and told my wife there would likely be trouble over there tonight. Sure enough about midnight, I was roused from sleep by my wife who informed me the cops were across the street.

I climbed off the Dormancy Platform™ and went to the window to enjoy a rare “late show.” Cops were trying to get somebody to come to the door and nobody would answer. They were ringing the bell, banging on the door, looking around. It was dark inside, but they were obviously home—both cars were there. Then the cops knocked on our door and asked if there had been anything “unusual” going on. I immediately broke into standup and said—“...by unusual do you mean unusual for over there or unusual to the average human being.” They were not amused. I related the earlier incident with the phone call. They said they’d received a 911 call from the home, which indicated a fight was underway. I didn’t know the phone number, but another neighbor had it. They tried to call and got no answer. By now, the wife and I had kicked into intense CSI mode and were certain there had been a murder/suicide next door and two dead bodies were in the living room with blood splattered across the sheetrock walls and stomped ceiling. We also mentioned that nympho had a six year old daughter who lived there half the time, but we weren’t sure if she was home. With that information, they made the call that they had to “go in.” First they tried to kick down the door—but that wasn’t happening. The door was rock solid and I think one of the deputies dislocated a knee trying to kick it down. Soon they realized the window was open and decided to let themselves in that way. They climbed through the window after RIPPING the curtains and shades out from the outside. Guns were drawn and we were sure shots would be exchanged, possibly sending errant bullets through our home. Oh well, the price you pay for good entertainment. They disappeared into the darkness and I heard a very loud and pronounced “WOOF.” My wife and I said simultaneously, “There’s Duke.” Perhaps we should have told the cops about him….but we forgot in all the excitement. I figured they would put Duke down—but eventually lights came on, doors opened, and no shots were fired. They arrested “Flavor of the Month” and hauled him up to the next interstate exit where he was released and walked home. She was in tears and actually kissed him as he was being led away. What a bunch of freaks---but she IS smoking hot.

Somebody killed another big copperhead on our street this week. The neighborhood is surrounded by woods and they seem to harbor in there. It’s the second 3-foot plus copperhead we’ve killed in two years. Shit. There’s a great story to impart about a snake that got into one of the neighborhood homes a couple of years ago, but it will have to keep until the next update. I also promise to eventually add more of the Domino’s Papers in future updates, odd stories of my life as a pizza delivery man.