A Letter to My Neighbors

Dear Poor People Who Live Next Door to Me,

I am dreadfully sorry to bother you, but could you be a little quieter, please. Propping up on your front porch 19 screaming babies, each with an accordion and a handful of firecrackers, sounds like a little slice of heaven to you, but it’s a tad much for me. Sorry. Your 33 dogs barking, 57 TVs tuned to Country Music Television, and the weekly “who can make the best hyena noises contest” is sometimes a wonderful way to start a Saturday morning, yes, I’ll give you that, but we could also sleep in till, say, 7:00 a.m. once in a while. That’d be nice, too.

While I find you a tiny bit noisy, I have to applaud your energy. I’m not sure how you find the strength to carry on your midnight avant-garde play called, Quit Throwing Pans at Me or I’ll Call the Police. If You Do We’ll Both Go to Jail. Fine, I’ll Stab You with These Cuticle Scissors Instead! now in its remarkable third year. Bravo. Also, thank you for the lovely gift pack that made it over the fence after one of last week’s performances; I wouldn’t have guessed so many hypodermic needles could fit in a coffee can.

I apologize again for my interruption. I sincerely hope this doesn’t put a damper on your preparations for the upcoming Lumberjack Games. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your innovative use of the muffler-free variety of chainsaw. Let’s celebrate your dedication to this hobby; I’m quite sure your competition isn’t training every night between the hours of 2 and 4 a.m. as you are. You’ve got the edge on them!

Well, I think that’s all from me. Here’s wishing you good luck on your cat breeding. Wouldn’t it be a blessing if all 42 of the little darlings were to give birth to large litters? I feel like I’m part of the happy cat family ever since they’d discovered my courtyard is the best place for their “romantic interludes” and the bed of my truck is their favorite toilet. Why, I can remember when there were only nine of the precious creatures on my fence. And it was only last summer when there were just four cats. Oh, how happy this neighborhood will be with the sing-songy meow-meow-meow of tiny mouths again.

One more time, sorry, and thanks for keeping it down a little.

WHAT I WILL AND WON'T WATCH THIS WEEK

Thursday, May 29
Celebrity Fit Club
TVGN 9:00 a.m.
Ha! The other day I caught part of this yoga program where this guy with a high, whiny voice was sitting with his ankles up on his knees, doing all kinds of breathing, and kept saying, “Okay, we want to tighten up the anus muscles. Breathe to the bellybutton. Tighten up the anus muscle. Keep those anus muscles tight.” It was first thing in the morning, and I was standing there with frizzy hair and drinking a cup of coffee. I checked to make sure nobody was looking. Then I gave the ol’ anus-squeeze thing a shot. Felt pretty good, to be honest. That guy is onto something.

Predator Raw: The Unseen Tapes
MSNBC 9:00 p.m.
See? That’s unfair. Every time I see this on the preview channel, I get myself all worked up to see some director’s cuts of a dreadlocked alien beating the bejesus out of our governor, and there’d be hand grenades and helicopter guns and all kinds of cool stuff. THEN! I turn it on and it’s about kid-diddlers. C’MON! Damn, MSNBC. Nobody wants to see that. You ruined my evening. I had M&Ms and everything.

Friday, May 30
2008 Scripps National Spelling Bee
ABC 8:00 p.m.
Who gets to pick the words? Because if there’s some sort of committee, I want on it. I’m totally going to make those kids crack up on stage. “Spell ‘underpants streaks,’” I’ll say real loud into the microphone. “Definition: Discoloration in blurry racing stripe patterns in your undershorts. ‘Underpants streaks...’ GO!”

House Hunters International
HGTV 10:30 p.m.
I might be the only one who does this, but whenever I stay in a hotel, I pee in the sink because you’re not allowed to do it at home. I can’t help myself! After I set my bag on the bed, I peek around that little corner and look at it and say, “Hello, old friend.”

Saturday, May 31
A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila
MTV 9:00 p.m.
Here’s a convincing argument to bring dunce caps and beatings back into America’s classrooms.

Sunday, June 1
World Extreme Cagefighting: Urijah Faber vs. Jens Pulver
VS 9:00 p.m.
Just know that if you call me on this night, I will not answer. I am not talking to anyone. I am going to be in bed naked; I will turn a bourbon bottle upside down with a spout like a hamster’s water contraption, and I’ll be watching what might be the greatest fight of all time. I will eat steak off my belly like an otter and hold sparklers between my toes. I will never be happier. Do not call.

Monday, June 2
Leprechaun: Back 2 tha Hood (2003)
BET 8:00 p.m.
Genius. Like a diamond is the perfect expression of a rock, an evil leprechaun movie set in the ghetto is the perfect expression of filmmaking. This is America’s legacy. The polio vaccine, jazz, and Lephrechaun: Back 2 tha Hood. That’s America, baby.

Tuesday, June 3
2007 World Salsa Championships
ESPN 9:30 p.m.
Look. Dancing isn’t a competitive sport. And it’s not an art form. I don’t care what you think it is, dancing is boring to watch and should only be performed when really drunk and preferably out of town. That schoolteacher from Footloose had it right. Anything that makes women sweaty and grown men wear a unitard should be outlawed.

Wednesday, June 4
Farmer Wants a Wife
CW 9:00 p.m.
Wow, there is exactly nothing on Wednesday nights. Any channel, it’s all junk. Wednesday night needs an “Interesting” shot in the butt about as much as O.J. Simpson’s girlfriend needs karate lessons.

Thursday, June 5
Last Comic Standing
NBC 8:30 p.m.
This show is awful. Last Comic Standing is about as funny as Bill O’Reilly in a jockstrap and cowboy boots, holding an oily piglet and a carton of eggnog. See, that’s not funny, it’s icky. Nobody wants that on their porch. Nobody.