Petty

Our next-door neighbours are a couple of unpleasant and verbally aggressive twats who, thankfully, mostly keep to themselves ... since we called the police. I just realised, though, that whenever they seem to be not sullen or scowly or shouty, like maybe they're actually enjoying themselves, it irritates me.

People I dislike are not allowed to be normal, happy people with families and friends. They are supposed to behave like villains all the time and be clearly miserable.

I think I actually start experiencing a slightly anxious cognitive dissonance when they don't. How can I be better than them if they're as happy as me? What if they're happier?

Pretty sure I'm remembering accurately

Guest post: Dead rat

Hello. I am a large bush rat that wandered into Martina's backyard today to die. I was feeling a bit drowsy and took a nap on the mat first, just as they were leaving to visit family. I don't know why I picked a household with two kids to do this but I think I had just escaped another household with two kids and—I don't know, a change is as good as a holiday, or something? Look, don't ask me too many questions, I'm a dead rat. Anyway, while they were gone I rallied and managed to move myself about a metre housewards, whereupon I died. On the lawn. Clinging to a single blade of grass with my foot. Because if Rat Death is coming for me, I'm taking this motherflipping overgrown buffalo grass with me, bitches!

They haven't done anything about me yet, though the flies are aleady starting to take an interest in my dead-rat-ness because this is Australia and that's how shit works here.

Boy, am I feeling a bit stupid for choosing the day AFTER garbage collection day to die in a suburban back yard, because wtf are they going to do with my inconvenient, hairy corpse for the next week now?