Deadbeat neighbor: “So I see where they arrested that evil cleric dude yesterday.”
Me: “In England, yes.”
Deadbeat neighbor: “He has, like, half an arm and half a face, right?”
Me: “Uh huh. Evidently he was playing around with explosives when he should have been praying.”
Deadbeat neighbor: “Only you can prevent forest fires, I guess.”
Me: “Well, not just me, but I take your point. Which might even have passed for poignant had you not been scratching yourself like that while making it.”
If Allah wills it…
Oh, c’mon, that was actually a great effort on the part of deadbeat neighbor. I wonder if he’ll ever realize that you only talk to him to get material for your blog … and to complain about the ribs.
I hope your neighbor is not just a literary device (kind of like the 10-year-old junkie in the Pulitzer Prize-winning Washington Post series done by Janet Cooke).
Well, knowing this doesn’t appear to be to charitable, I love the scractching part. It made me laugh out loud, as opposed to just some sort of nose-snarfing. It was a terrific visual; just perfect, Jeff.
Ahem, Jeff, please excuse the lack of the extra “O” up there….