Who wears a knitted sweater around thier shoulders, seriously?

Ok, today I'm mad.

I made up my mind not to write this post and simply rant but I do need to vent a little.

So there's a guy who lives over the back from our house. He's a wanker. I don't know his name, so let's just call him cockmuncher for now. Note the lower case 'c', he certainly doesn't deserve a capital. When we got Rosie (Kat's new puppy) and started leaving the dogs outside when we were out, we didn't realise they bark. Probably just Rosie actually, Sunny is way too lazy. They don't bark inside when we're home, so we had no clue. The barking pissed cockmuncher off, so he came round to confront us but we weren't home. Instead of behaving like an adult and leaving a note with his details, he dobbed us in to our real estate. Low act. They sent us a letter telling us to get rid of them. Not going to happen. We're currently in the process of trying to change their minds and letting us keep them, as we're good tenants, pay our rent and look after the house well. Keep in mind, the chick who we share a fucking wall with says they're not a problem at all! She says they bark sometimes, she tells them to shut up and they do. Since the letter, we've been doing all we can to help the problem, keeping them inside when we can, not giving them treats when we leave anymore (Sunny steals Rosie's and it makes her bark) etc etc.

SO... we're on Semaphore rd today, doing some grocery shopping and this git-mutton-dressed-as-preppy-lamb with a fucking sweater draped over his shoulders stops us and goes

'Are you the people who live over the back from me?' (How the fuck would I know, moron, where do you live)

...'with the dogs?'

At this point I click and say 'oh, you're the guy that dobbed us in to our real estate for them' and the battle began. Suffice to say that he is a smarmy, pompous, self-righteous potty mouth who when I called him an asshole (hardly a swear word these days) he came back with:

'no, you're a fucking asshole' (real inventive, you're really dancin' now) to which I couldn't resist replying: ' ah, no, you're the fucking asshole.' He started it.

Anyways, I told him he was a child and should have done the mature thing and just talked to us, as I really would've tried to sort it out. Nothing was really being solved so I decided to leave. I pulled a good ol' hollywood one-liner punctuated by a finger jab: 'you know what? Fuck you.' He walked off, kinda like he still had a few beads up there if you know what I mean, grabbed his little white maltese and headed for home.

The best thing about this exchange: nothing. it made me very wound up and irritable. The funniest thing though? Through the whole thing, Kat didn't say a word, not one. I think she likes to let me do the arguing.

Since I was left with such a bad taste in my mouth, I looked at pictures of cats online, it cheers me up. Here is one doing some karate dancing, which I am quite fond of myself.

Please, everyone who reads this (all 7 of you lol) don't dob others in for things, sort it our like big people. After all, we do know that dobbers wear nappies, I learnt that in year 2.

Tx