Here's a l'il note I'm gonna stick on my neighbor's door:
From the desk of Wanda Pinkett:
To my damn trailer-trash neighbors,
Please make it said that I, Mrs. Wanda Buford-Pinkett, am askin' ya'll in the sweetest of ways to keep yer fuckin' used-up pink rolls of insulation out of our front yard!!! My Lurlene brought it in OUR trailer, threw it on her floor, and said "Mama, look at my new wall-to-wall carpetin'." Needless to say I've been pickin' out shard a' glass from her feet fer the past 4 days! Thank God she didn't sit next down on it with her cooter exposed to do her naked Yoga, like she does.
I really need to know when all this crap's gonna end. First, it's yer moldy shower curtain that y'all rolled up in a ball and threw up onto my porch which Lulene turned into, what I called, "her mildew dress," then it was that old refrigerator that my legless little Bubba crawled into and was disappeared fer 2 days (luckily he had a couple 'a snack puddings in his cut-off cargo pants fer nourishment). If y'all can't throw away yer crap like the rest of us, in your OWN yard, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson which is sumthin' I hate to do...
I'm goin' off to Walgreen's now to buy some sharper tweezers for my glass pickin' but I'll be back in an hour, and when I get back I expect an apology from y'all (and NO, a package of Mallomars doesn't cut it...though a sixer 'a Pabst might).
Thanks fer yer ear,
Wanda Pinkett
P.S. I apologize fer writin' this on an old Fritos bag, but I ran outta paper.
