So it has been awhile since I blogged about my neighbors the Dunderheads and their yapping, 24/7 dogs.Â See previous post for background.
The Dunderheads continue to seem indifferent if not deaf to the incessant yapping of their dogs that I fondly refer to as Yapper1 and Yapper2.
At my wits end, I decided to be the good neighbor and take a civil and mature approach to the situation - I crank called the Dunderheads for two weeks straight.Â When they would answer the phone, I'd play them yodeling music from my vast collection of yodeling classics.Â This plan seems to have backfired as now Yapper1 and Yapper2 have coincidentally developed a yodeling style of yapping (i.e., a barking yodel).Â Curse you Dunderheads!
Desperate to silence Yapper1 and Yapper2, I quickly switched to plan B where I stuffed ex-laxÂ® into cheese balls and slipped them under the fence, hoping the mangy mutts would eat them and crap uncontrollably inside the Dunderheads house.Â Then when the Dunderheads returned from work, school, wherever, they'd get fed up with the smell of yapper poop and the constant associated clean-up.Â It made perfect sense at the time.
Several days into plan B and during a drunken, 1am eating binge, I accidentally used one of my cheese ex-laxÂ® concoctions to make some chili con queso that nearly drove me insane with diarrhea that lasted for four days.
Needless to say, plan B was a bust.
Dehydrated, weak and delirious, I moved to plan C where I released three rattle snakes into the Dunderhead's backyard, hoping they'd fatally wound Yapper1 and Yapper2.Â I found the rattle snakes through Craigslist and purchased them from a man in Wimberley.Â Once again my plan failed. This time I was bitten by one of the rattlers while I was releasing them into the Dunderhead's backyard.Â Luckily Yapper1 came after me while I was semi-unconscious in their backyard and started feverishly sucking/gnawing on my leg where the rattler had bitten me.Â This apparently sucked some of the snake venom from my leg and allowed me to escape to my car so I could drive myself to the nearest emergency room.
Dehydrated, weak, delirious, poisoned, a loss of feeling in my right leg and feeling my diarrhea return, I arrived at the emergency clinic and instead of hitting the brakes I accidentally hit the gas and drove my car into the lobby of the emergency clinic.Â By the way, if you for whatever reason have to go to an emergency clinic and you don't want to wait in line, I highly recommend you drive your car through the lobby because you go straight to the head of the line.
When I came to, I apparently had been transferred to a county hospital.Â I woke up handcuffed to the bed railing and for a short while was visited by my dead, alcoholic uncle Sylvester and an officer from the Austin police department who never seemed to be wearing any pants.
To be continued...