I had no idea it was going to be dog week this week, but it is apparently since everything I have planned for you is dog related. All. Week. Long.

Aren’t you so excited you could just pee?

Anyway, I’m sick with some sort of monkey disease and not feeling very enthusiastic today, and seeing as it is dog week and all I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to ask my dog Alice to guest blog for me while I recover from the monkey thing.

She stayed up late last night preparing this video for you about the joys and pitfalls of ice fishing without thumbs.

You’d better leave a nice comment for her.

It’s her first time blogging.

PS: A totally freaky thing just happened. I’m at work right now, and a beautiful male brindle Greyhound just walked in through the automatic doors and straight to the back room where I was just sitting here, minding my own business, and contemplating dog week. The dog officer has already come to pick him up…sniffle.

I wanted to keep him.

I’m not even fucking kidding you.

Freaky shit, huh?

In the place where we used to live, we only had only one neighboring house and they were lovely people.

But now, I’m experiencing a bit of culture shock as I am not accustomed to living in a busy neighborhood where I am forced to put up with people.

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And all their bullshit. Our house is the cute one on the left.

For the past month or so, I’ve been noticing a growing amount of dog shit in my side yard in between our house and the neighbors.

And it’s big.

And there’s a lot of it.

This is not so much a picture of raisins pretending to be dog shit, but a picture of raisins demonstrating the volume of dog shit I’m talking about. Guests are starting to comment on it.

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Even astronauts in space are noticing…”Houston, we see a lot of dog shit at Crissy’s house.

We have a dog, but Alice is little and she only shits in the back yard.

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And we clean it up.

So it’s not my Alice.

But my neighbor just opens her front door and lets her 120lb drooly Pit Bull, Bull Dog, Bull Mastiff whatever it is shit whereverthefuck while mom has her coffee and nurses a hangover.

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Speaking of mom, I’ve never seen her without a can of beer in her hand. I can respect that, and even be a little bit jealous that she has the luxury of being shit faced all day, but her alcoholism is having a negative impact on my lawn and so it just pisses me off.

I’ve suspected it was Tequila (that’s the dog’s name. Did I mention the alcoholism?) for quite some time, but I’ve been frustrated because she’s a stealthy pooper and I couldn’t catch her until this morning. There I was, minding my own business, doing my morning yoga when, in fully extended prayer balancing twist position, I saw her assuming a position of her own.

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It totally screwed up my pranayama when I tried to yell “Fuck off Tequila! Fuck! Off!” through the window, but off she did not fuck. Oh well, at least I finally caught her.

And as if Doggie-dumps-a-lot wasn’t enough of an issue, their cat comes up on my front porch and talks smack to my cat through the windows at 2 am. And this cat is the worst kind of smack talking pussy around because he knows my Benny’s not allowed out of the house and so he’s never really going to go outside and throw down. But he really wants to.

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And then, after getting Benny all fired up, he shits in my tulip bed just to be a total freaking douche.

Not only am I pissed that their street thug pets are shitting in my yard, but I’m hurt. I thought we were friends with the neighbors. We went over there, we got hammered with them, we stayed until 2am and, as far as I can remember we were still welcome.

I’m pretty sure.

We even put up with their sexy as hell teenage sons washing their motorcycles with no shirts on in the hot summer sun getting all soapy and watery and stuff while I’m trying to make dinner. It’s really very disruptive.

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Anyway, we put up with a lot and after you get drunk with someone, doesn’t that automatically make you best friends?

It does, right?

And friends don’t let their dogs shit in friend’s yards, right?

RIGHT???

I thought so.

So I’m angry and I’m hurt and I’m not cleaning up the dog shit. My husband is such a little girly man pacifist he won’t go over there and yell at them.

So here’s my question for the internets:

What am I going to do?

Potential solutions so far:

  1. Shovel the shit back over the fence into their yard.
  2. Do a flaming dog shit ding dong ditch. Classless, I know, but so is letting your dog shit all over the place.
  3. Install a motion detecting sprinkler and soak the bitch.
  4. Send Mister over there to shit on their lawn.
  5. Ask them to have the boys come over and clean it up and then videotape the boys and sell it as lady porn.
  6. Go all janjaweed on their asses. I’ll spare those gorgeous, shirtless innocent and precious children of course.

Any other suggestions?