Dear Next-Door Neighbor Hank Henderson: I noticed you glaring at me on several occasions as I passed your house. Care to explain?—Your next-door neighbor, Donna Tate
You’re goddamn right I was glaring, “Donna”—if that’s even your real name! Every day at exactly 8:27 am and 6:42 pm, your precious Pomeranian pisses and/or shits all over my blue elderberry bush… which is reducing my property values! Even an idiot like you can plainly see that I take pride in my immaculate landscaping—unlike those pigs who live across the street. Squirt your dog’s diarrhea over there for a change!
Dear Next-Door Neighbor Hank Henderson: Due to a lack of parking in our neighborhood….—Your next-door neighbor, Ted Sanders
Let me stop you right there, hippie! YES, I know you occasionally park your shitty yellow Hyundai in front of my house, and YES, I immediately call traffic enforcement to slap an irremovable green sticker on your windshield! Why? Because I don’t pay criminally huge property taxes to be a goddamn junkyard! Unlike you, I take pride in my automobile, and wash it more than once in its lifetime. So park your piece-of-crap clunker in front of another house—like maybe the Sloanes’. They haven’t mowed their grass in a week.