It Was I

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I know it was you who called the City on me, several times. It had to be you, because when the inspector told me what he saw, he could have only seen it from your backyard. I also know you called to cops to report the parties I have and told them lies about drug use. And I know that you have spread rumors about me around the block, because I see the 'looks' now. You're a nosey person, and I do not like you. In an attempt to retaliate, I made up up complaints about you to the City and Police, but none panned out because, well, they were made up. So there I was, thinking about how to get back at you and it finally hit me. The block we live on has a high homeless population and I decided to take advantage of that fact. One night, not too long ago, it was I who took that shit on your garage door. I did prepare myself for this event, all day long, by eating an assortment of crappy food. Oh boy, did my choice of poor cuisine pay off big time. The load I dropped on your door, the spray that ensued, was a thing of beauty. What was even more beautiful was watching you clean it up, with that disgusted look on your face, like you were on the verge of puking. I relive that image daily, and it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I'm crazy, I know, but you're a fucking petty person who got what they deserved. Watch your step... literally, watch your step. *wink, wink*

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