Deadbeat neighbor:  “Is it true the Syrian army is fighting against us in Iraq?”* Me: “I dunno.  Who cares?” Deadbeat neighbor: “Well, wouldn’t that mean Syria is, y’know, declaring war on us?  That’s kind of a big deal, I would think…” Me:  “Feh, whatever.  Fleas biting at the ankles of an elephant.  No, it’s Pepsico that I want a piece of.  The unpatriotic softdrink bastards.”* Deadbeat neighbor: Me: “BEWARE THE

Deadbeat neighbor: “Hiya.” Me: “Hey.” Deadbeat neighbor: Me: Deadbeat neighbor: Me: Deadbeat neighbor: “So….” Me: “Yep.”

Deadbeat neighbor:  “So. What’d you think about that Laura Bush speech the other day?” Me: “I dunno.  Funny I guess.” Deadbeat neighbor:  “Yeah.  You can’t go wrong with horse penises, I always say.” Me: “I know.  And I’ve repeatedly asked you to stop—though at least this time you managed to slip it into an appropriate context.”

Deadbeat neighbor:  “Man, what a gorgeous day, eh?” :  Deadbeat neighbor:  “So gorgeous, in fact, that you probably don’t want to be standing around with me, talking about how gorgeous it is…” : Deadbeat neighbor:  “…which would explain why you took off running the second you saw me, I guess.”

Deadbeat neighbor:  “Good morning! Happy first day of spring to you!” Me: “Is it spring already?  Wow.  Where does the time go?” Deadbeat neighbor:  “Well, uh… Me: “– That was a rhetorical question.” Deadbeat neighbor:  “Oh. Whew!  Thank goodness.” Me: Deadbeat neighbor:  Me: Deadbeat neighbor:  “Er, what’s a rhetorical question again…?” Me: “Skip it.  Say, is that my newspaper…?”

Deadbeat neighbor: “Man, when I was out here yesterday in my t-shirt and sandals, I never thought I’d be spending today shoveling 4 inches of snow off the sidewalk.” Me:  “8 inches, actually.” Deadbeat neighbor: “No, 4 inches.  Just heard it on the news.” Me:  “Uh huh. But if you want to use my shovel, you’re going to have to clear my walk, too.  And 4 plus 4 makes 8…”

Deadbeat neighbor: “I’m thinking about buying a cowboy hat.  A nice one, too. Fitted.  And some kick-ass snakeskin boots.” Me: “Finally saw Urban Cowboy, did you?” Deadbeat neighbor: “Yeah. Oh—and a really huge brass belt buckle!  With a pair of boot-cut Wrangler jeans and a couple of those snap-front shirts with the western piping.” Me: “Sure.  May as well shoot the works.” Deadbeat neighbor: “Maybe even a horse.” Me: “Uh

Deadbeat neighbor: “Beautiful day, eh?” Me: “Not if you happen to have a goiter the size of a kiwi, it isn’t.  Or an infected toenail that leaks green pus if you so much as look at it.” Deadbeat neighbor: “Oh. I’m sorry. Are you sick?” Me: ”Me?  Naw.  Just speculating.”

Deadbeat neighbor: “If you’d like to stop over later for a few minutes to celebrate the Iraqi elections, that’d be really nice.” Me: “Oh, so you were following those, were you?  Good for you!  Sure, I’ll stop by for a little while.” Deadbeat neighbor:  “Fantastic.  I made falafels and a lamb dish with saffron and mint.” Me: “Sounds great.  And I’ll bring the Ted Kennedy pinata I made last night

Deadbeat neighbor:  “Cold out here today, eh?” Me:  “I AM A CITZEN JOURNALIST.  I DEMAND PIE!” Deadbeat neighbor:  Me:  Deadbeat neighbor:  Me: Deadbeat neighbor:  “Okay. Well, I’m gonna go inside and watch the playoffs…” Me:  “HUGH HEWITT IS MY MASTER!  BLOG IS MY BIBLE!”* Deadbeat neighbor: “Uh huh. Anyway, stop over later if you want to try some of my famous playoff nachos.  Like an orgy of cheese and beef,