Really, Poor Excuses For People, Who (Or Perhaps More Appropriately, That) Live Next Door? Yes, that’s right. You’re getting your very own ROTD sequel; the first official one to occur.
So your phone book is finally gone, one way or another. Good job, I think. Given your inexplicable propensity for keeping uncovered trash cans (usually full ones, at that) on your back porch, though, I am surprised that said phone book isn’t strewn across my own yard like most of your trash. Thank you, incidentally, for your unwitting implementation of such urban tumbleweeds onto the landscape of my yard–there’s nothing quite as serenely beautiful (or stimulating, to the writer of a regular column such as this) as the gentle passage of a now-empty Banquet® meal box, the tranquil roll of a discarded chocolate milk carton, the untroubled yet irregular clanking-along of a tiny can of cola, and/or the hushed crinkle of a fast food wrapper as it traverses the spectrum of the twilight vista, all with the just-audible backdrop of your carrier and inspirator, Father Wind.
Or maybe you’ve heard of raccoons? Opossums? Birds? Squirrels? Neighborhood pets? Neighborhood children (oh, but they’ll get their due in the Really? universe eventually!)? Or any other means by which trash left in the wrong place (or any place, admittedly) will scatter, perhaps even, as in this very case, to a location where it belongs even less?
Since you’ve given me no reason to believe that you have, ultimately I have to answer each of these questions for you with “no.”
If only, Lazy Neighbors, I could answer another brief question that way. Namely, Really?
Posted by Really? Of The Day 
