Well, Im just so hurt, once again, over here on Margaret Street. As I was doing my morning mop and usual perusal of the neighborhood out my front windows with my bejeweled pink binoculars, I couldnt help but notice that there was a big, black Yukon with those blacked out windows where you cant see in the car parked on the street, right in front of my house. I stepped out on my front porch in my pajama bottoms and nasty old holey t-shirt and my furry leopard print slides and my white glasses to have a better look-see with said pink binocs in tow. Lo and behold, there were cars parked all the way up the street on both sides. Fancy cars. Mercedes Benzes, Jaguars, BMWs and even a few Cadillacs and the like. I can only deduce from my investigative peerings that SOMEBODY is having a brunch, a luncheon or a back yard barbeque. Im sure they are eating fancy little no-crust cucumber sandwiches and drinking mimosas made with the finest champagne. The ladies will be wearing those cute sundresses that have come back in style, every hair in place and flawless makeup, their skin tanned ever so slightly, but glowing. Im sure their sandals are Jimmy Choo and not the cheap kind I buy at trade shows and you know that their purses are nothing less than Gucci or Fendi. And I fear that Julie may be the host of said soiree. Or maybe its Thomas. Either way, I am bumfuzzled, if not completely perplexed, as to why we, ONCE AGAIN, were not invited. Of course, being the black sheep of the neighborhood has never been easy. This is not the first time we have been excluded in these neighborhood shindigs. And I can understand that they dont want the trashy folks down the street mingling with their hoity-toity friends. We never crash these hootenanies to spare our neighbors the embarrassment of our pathetic lack of social graces. But what gets me is youd think, just to be neighborly, they might bring us a plate of BBQ or one of those silly crustless sandwiches or perhaps a small piece of pie. Surely they can tell by looking at the fat family that we enjoy eating. Perhaps its a blessing that we are leaving the high fallutin folks over here on Margaret Street. Maybe someone will buy the house who will fit in better with the upper crust types over here in the cul-de-sac. Sigh.
Posted on: Sat, 24 May 2014 17:38:57 +0000
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