Open Letter to the kids who live in the neighborhood next to me,

Dear Kids (and especially the big one with the red hair, we'll call him "The Instigator"),

Being a kid is FUN. I know. You can do all sorts of fun stuff and laugh and play street hockey and be bad and smoke cigarettes and ride bikes and play basketball. Whatever. And you know what? Blowing off fireworks in the middle of your street in September, in a drought, well, that's fun, too. I know! I LOVE fireworks!

But you know what's NOT fun? When you do it 11:30 at night and all the dogs in not only YOUR neighborhood, but also mine, go fucking nuts and bark for the next hour and I worry if my house is going to burn down. Ya hear me, Instigator? If you could please forward this on to your father when he gets home from dealing blackjack and your mother when she gets back from Shuck's Oyster Bar? Thanks, dudes.

-Me