Here we go folks! From Thomas Wictor...Enjoy! It is quite the smack talking rant.

 

The Neighbors' Human-Goat Dog
My neighbors have a dog.  Whenever they leave the house, the dog gets lonely and reacts emotionally. It doesn't bark; it screams. For hours on end. The scream is the perfect blending of a goat's bleat and the yodeling of a
drunk, pubescent boy having a tantrum. It's the most repulsive vocalization I've ever heard, which is fitting, since my neighbors are the most repulsive people
on earth.

The woman gets her inspiration from aquatic mammals. She looks like an upright manatee, has hippopotamus tusks, and communicates in the gravelly bellow
of a harbor seal. The man makes a U-turn into my driveway every single night in his giant truck with the high beams on. Every night a silent nuclear explosion goes off outside, as blinding white light pierces my blinds for five or six seconds. That's ironic because the husband is shaped like Fat Man, the atomic bomb dropped on Nagasaki. 

When I first heard the human-goat dog, the sound was so horrifying that I had to go out and identify the source and location. I didn't know if a mummified prospector who'd died in the 1849 gold rush had gotten rehydrated and come up out of the ground to find something to eat. Or maybe someone had stumbled on a stockpile of dioxin from the fifties, had half-melted himself, and was yelling
for help. Learning that it was just a malformed dog allowed me to put up with the noise.

It's easier for me to endure something if I understand it. The French philosopher, mathematician, physicist, inventor, and writer Blaise Pascal (1623-1662) said, "To understand is to forgive."

Well, he didn't live next door to a manatee and a truck-driving atomic bomb...who own a screaming human-goat dog. 

It's fun to write about my neighbors. Since they're illiterate, they'll never know what I said publicly about them.

Hey _ _ _ _ _ _! You're the spitting image of a manatee, a creature also known as a "sea cow." When your husband takes off his shirt to wash his gigantic, stupid, macho truck, his bifurcated paunch hangs over his belt like
someone mooning us from inside him. And your human-goat dog is a sideshow freak.
You're all freaks, hideous time travelers from the Middle Ages. When you're in your yard yelling at the dog to shut up, I laugh. You created a self-torture machine, and now you stuff your faces with fatty foods because
you're so miserable. Look up "metabolic syndrome" sometime. Oh, that's right! You can't because you're illiterate. Oh well.
This was for you, Dad.