March 8, 2004

weird neighbors – spinster & her dog

Circa 1990 – 1999. My worst years of living around weird neighbors.

Right across my house’ front yard, lived a spinster in her late 30’s codenamed FatMary… and her lunatic dog, Barney.

Why was she weird? Well, she fucking talked to her psychotic dog, that’s why. I mean, not like “Sit !” or “Eat!” that kind of talk. She would talk to her dog elaborately like it was her lover or something. And when Barney fails to answer her back, she would yell at it – “Barney! why you no answer me ??” (yep, she loves to shout around her house in broken English to that garbage hound). I had been crudely awakened from countless of sleeps and naps with her yelling around like that – there was simply no peace at all living next to her.

Her dog Barney, was also a retarded lifeform like FatMary. It was a mongrel that was born without a brain and an amplified bark loudspeaker connected directly to a biological motion sensor. The product was Barney, a bark machine that would bark at anything that moves – cats, lizards, chickens, ants, FatMary… you name it. It would bark day and night without rest.

It was particularly frustrating for me especially when I came home late & supposed to be in a stealth mode (you know, I was still too young for discos and stuff)… only to wake the entire neighborhood when Barney fucking barked like there was no tomorrow when I touch the gate.

It was my teen-hood trauma – for not being able to grow up like any other normal teenagers. Each time I had my dose of fun at clubs/discos, my mom would always find out and gave me mind numbing lectures. Thanks to Barney the goddamn psychotic dog.

There was once, my father got so frustrated with Barney… that he actually hurled his then Motorola MicroTac (known to be an effective weapon against anything) to the dog. It hit Barney square on the head and had it hiding in the cage for days.

Well, the fucker dog was still around when I moved out from the neighborhood in 1999. I remember giving the dog a few pelts of slingshots before leaving the place — as a token of appreciation for the hundreds of sleepless nights it had given to me throughout the years.

michaelooi  | characters  | 

The commenting function has been disabled.