Why Can't I Be Mean?

OK, I really hate to keep harping on this, but I'm more than a little hormonal, so you're going to have to deal with it anyway so you may as well listen.

What did I have to deal with again today? Trash. I noticed a piece or two in my front yard this morning as I was leaving, but didn't have time to get all red-faced and flustered and deal with it. Then as I came home for lunch, I saw the culprit. That bag of trash - the original cheap-ass bag of trash I tried to secure under mine yesterday - was lying by the side of my house, its guts open and littering the whole of my life.

"When it gets dark tonight, I'm gonna take that bag and fling it into the road," I promised myself. It was about all that kept me going today.

And so, where was I at 10 tonight? In my pajamas, in my yard, in the dark, in my gardening gloves. I was going to pick up that bag and hurl it for all it was worth.

Then I stood there. Stood there looking at the make-up containers lying in my yard (apparently you're a whore as well, Tammy Hurley!), and the half-full drink cups, and the snack bags and wadded up paper towels. And I went inside and got a better trash bag. Came back out, picked it all up, tied it neatly, and brought it inside.

If I throw it into the road it'll just end up back in my yard. And the neighbors who leave me alone but are also very unfriendly have in fact become so unfriendly that they seem to have moved out of the house. So it wouldn't do any good to unload a random bag of trash upon an empty house, the same empty house that used to hold my sweet friend Shirley.

Who knows, maybe the so-unfriendly-they-moved neighbors were the Tammy Hurleys. Or maybe Tammy Hurley lives far away, happily wearing her Cover Girl make-up and drinking her Dairy Queen drinks while she eats her Hardees' hamburger, all comfy in her Carefree pantyliners.

Anyway, Mr M said if I'd go through what I picked up yesterday and find her address, we'd look her up in the phone book, and he'd call her. Call her up and give her the ol' Mr M treatment. Which, believe me, is not pretty. I speak from experience.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* It's Swedish Meatball Acrowinner Time!
First of all, MSAGRO, it was so good to see your acros again, I almost cried! However, you left out a letter, so I must disqualify you. But for this round only! Please come back and play with us again!
Honorable Mention: Flipsycab, with "Oh, wait! Uncle Lars never leaves extra!"
Runner-Up: LilyG, with "Only we understand -- little noodles lack excitement."
Winner: Kellie, with "On worms? Ursula loves nice little earthworms."
Thanks to everyone for playing!
* The Director of Betland Security has changed the Betland Security Alert Level to Orange, or "Hinky." Repeat, Orange. Yes. It feels quite hinky around here.