Photoblog Is Up/ 4 a.m. And the Freaks Are Out

After laboring most of yesterday, my photoblog now has 36 photos. I forgot to include the color pics from my bike ride, they will be added soon. You may ask why there are more pics of my cats than my kid. Well, that's because HB takes my camera and... TAKES PICTURES OF THE CATS! Regan commented that she had been thinking about making a photoblog. Well, I hope whoever feels like it does. I know Sloth and Dastard both are very good photographers and we, bloggers collectively, would enjoy seeing more of their work as well as everyone elses. Why? Because we're nosy and curious about the peeps who we read about.... so photoblog away!!! I had a most interesting experience last night or rather, this morning. At 4:10, by my clock, I was awakened by someone hollering my name. They sounded like they were in my house and it sounded like my brother? WTF? Of course it wasn't. It was my neighbor, Hagar, as he is seen on my photoblog, bellowing from his open window to my open window. Why? Because he's drunk and he wants me to have a beer with him. Yeah. So, I know the Missus is out of town with her sisters. I also can tell from listening to him that he's not as drunk as he wants me to believe. I hate that. Now, Hagar and his Missus and a bunch of other friends and I have partied together. We've played every variation of strip games there are. Strip poker, strip Uno, strip Trivial Pursuit, we've skinny dipped together. Of course, there has been some slap and tickle to go along with that. BUT, his Missues has always been RIGHT THERE. It was all in the name of fun and she knows I have no designs on him for sex or otherwise. I don't drink on the meds that I'm taking now. I found out the hard way that it feels like I've taken four muscle relaxers and drank a fifth of vodka. Not good. Plus, its 4 fucking a.m. and his wife is not home. NO FUCKING WAY!! And he keeps fucking up and acting drunk and then not slurring his words appropriately. This is pissing me off. I hope if I ignore him, he will go away. He doesn't. He comes outside and tells me he's fallen and can't get up. I holler out my window that its a nice night and he won't die of exposure. He tells me he's going to "irritate you, irritate, irritate" until I come over. I feel like I'm Whoopi Goldberg in Ghost as Patrick Swayze is singing, "I'm Henry the 8th I am." I get up, smoke a cigarette, check my e-mail, use the bathroom and go back to bed. This is when he asks if I will give him a boob shot. NO. Half a boob? NO. Quarter of a boob? NO. See, blonde or not, I knew what the "let's have a drink" was about. Damn fucker. You're probably wondering why I just didn't shut the window. It was a beautiful night. It was cool, in the upper 50's and the sounds of the night are soothing. Eventually, that's what I did though. That really pissed me off. Seemed like the temp in my room went up 10 degrees and it left a hollowness. The upside is, Hagar shut up and went home as opposed to resorting to banging on my windows or doors. I would have called the cops if he did that. Luckily, my cats slept through this and I went back to sleep without much tossing or turning, but ended up oversleeping this morning. I hate that. I'm plotting revenge now, and, I'm telling his wife.