SHIT STORM

They're back. More antics from the freaky five across the street. I know THEY are the ones that have the sign - WE CALL POLICE. But now I just might have to do the same thing.

For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, you can read the original post: http://kafiendkharma.blogspot.com/2005_03_01_kafiendkharma_archive.html

Or just check out the video footage: http://homepage.mac.com/themidgettes/Cultivated/iMovieTheater39.html

If you are just too lazy to do either, the long and the short of it is that there is a cult of "dog people" who live across the street. Their monarch is a mongrel named Bud. They bring him out to do his "business" - whatever his "business" may be - on a stretcher. And they act very suspicious for about 45 minutes to an hour. They may be Korean. They may be involved in some sort of Bud-worship. They may be have been poisoning him and now Bud is crippled. I don't know. I just know they are freaky. Hence the freaky five moniker.

This post is more than just an update on my neighbor's suspect activity. Hard evidence has now been discovered. New shit has come to light - so to speak. Proving once and for all just how incredibly insane and evil these people really are. Before I get to that, however, let me relate a few key episodes that have led up to this current epidemic.

* Another lady in my building - Sherry - is out watering the lawn when the freaky five are doing the Bud thing. They are staring her down like a sniper.
She shouts out, "What are you looking at?"
They yell back at her in unison, "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!"

*The next-door-neighbor's boyfriend - Don - is coming back with a couple of six packs of Amstel Light from the White Hen. He is walking - since the White Hen is right around the corner - minding his own business. If he had even realized the freaky five were out, he might have walked on the other side of the street. But he didn't. It was too late. He crossed in front of them and the larger of the "watchers" tried to stun him with her mojo. Casting her wrist in his direction and winding her hand at him like some crack-addled-Spiderwoman, she cast her curse. Don, of course, was freaked out and tried to "wipe off" the mojo. We have yet to discover whether he was successful.

*Okay, I told my new, hot girlfriend not to do this, but she just couldn't help herself. One day when the five were out with Bud, she deliberately parked her car right in front of them. When she got out, she approached them. Bud made a sound like a legion of demons.
She asked, point blank, "What's wrong with your dog?"
A watcher said, "He's got arthritis."

(Arthritis? This is pure bullshit. A mere cover. I was honestly worried about her destroying the mystique of the freaky five with her inane questions, but now I believe she has added to it)

She asked, "Is he making that sound because I am too close?"
A watcher replied, "Yes."

That's it. End of conversation. My new, hot girlfriend walks away. Out of the awkward, seething silence.
All of this is sort of weird, right? Now let me tell you about our current war. (Of which I am not a willing participant.)

I know, in the past, there have been some questions as to whether Bud is actually capable of a normal bowel movement. (I stated in my first posting on the freaky five that I had never witnessed any actual poo.) Question no more, however. It has hit the fan.

This past week, as I have been watching the freaky five's evening adventures, I noticed that they have been crossing the street. I mean actually coming over - close - to where I am. Then 3 nights ago, I filmed them for about an hour as they carried Bud around the next-door-neighbor's yard. When I told her - Jennifer- about this the next day, she found a pile of shit in her Gerbera Daisies. Coincidence? I think not.

The next night at about 11:30 pm, Jennifer called and informed me that the freaks were in my front yard. Honestly, I was too exhausted to get out of bed. (This unemployment is tiring.) So, the next morning, guess what I found in MY Gerbera Daisies?

Well, my hot, new girlfriend, who is a hell of a lot more confrontational than I will ever be, would not stand for it. She took a bag and filled it with the still-moist poo and deposited it on the freaky five's front porch. I never saw them make the discovery, but a couple of hours later, I saw the bag lying beside a row of box bushes in their yard. (It's still there.)

This leads me to today. I go out to the backyard - which is gated, by the way - to water the new tomato plants I put in last week. (Okay, no smart comments. I know that I was really ripping into the whole green thumb thing recently when my hot, new girlfriend wanted me to go to the Home Depot with her, but I have become weak. Plus I really like tomatoes.) And what do I find? Smack dab on top of the tiny white wild flowers that border my tomato plants. A fresh pile of shit from the night before. Dog shit. And I have no dog. In fact, there are no dogs in my building at all.

Anyway, it looks like my new, hot girlfriend has really stirred things up. And I am really scared. If they have the nerve to bring Bud into a gated yard to do his "business", what's next? I would get the police involved, but I fear further retaliation. I honestly don't know what they're capable of. With their...Bud. And their...mojo. And their...shit. Guess I'm really in the thick of it now.