THEY belong to that segment defined, described as trailer trash, but missing the trailer. Both are pasty pale, rarely go outside or feel the sun, pretty much like vampires.
Dirt poor, both of minimun wage income, had previously a yellowish cat with a collar too tight, already in the streets. They loved him for about forty five days, while he slept indoors. Now the poor feline hangs out with the not neutered Farrukito's the pimp looking fellow stray clan.
Squeaky and Pillsbury dough boy, now got a dog, not a pet, mind you. An animal that hangs out in the outside ALL day and night, except when it rains.
The terrible thing is that the piss smell now is right on our driveway or the north garden. Why would this scum of the earth, with the habit of speaking pidgin English occassionally after snorting or whatever they used to get stone, get a dog?
That by the way is barking, not used to be indoors in the porch, since it is raining? A couple of nights ago, he barked for hours..
Squeaky has a turtle figure, with the manatee breasts by the collar bone. She laughs like that African pack carnivore of the rotten meat. When she speaks it is like a drill on me ears..
The Pillsbury fellow is not too bad, but as a drummer stinks worse that Ringo in the beginning. Enjoys pork shops in rancid lard cooked by his charming Squeaky. It stinks me tv/computer room after dark every other day.
It is only 8AM, I imagine the barking will be on for hours. Squeaky and Pillsbury, riff raff, a true token of the population down here. Where concrete, asphalt, weeds, noise, washing money and tax evasion rule.
Chito the dog is still barking, I give him some affection when we meet. It is so cruel to have animals that require some affection as if they were a pet rock which do not.
Apaga i vamonoh.
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