It's a gas, gas, gas!
Dear Oprah,My dog never goes out before 7:30 am. I'm surprised you can hear him over your lawn mower. The neighbor in back of us,however, has a new dog that has to go out all hours of the day (and night). I call him Henry. He's a cute dog. And I call you Bitch for compaining about it in your open diary. I am sorry, though, for leaving the outside light on for one night. We'll begin the inquisition right away.You've gotten grumpy, Oprah, in your old age. Twelve years ago when the car horn went off in our driveway at 3:00 am on a sub-zero degree night in the middle of winter you strolled over, in your bathrobe and slippers, to say hi and pass the time night. AND I DID'T EVEN KNOW YOU THEN. Now I leave the outside light on one night and allow a neighbor to get a dog and it's a whiny diary entry. What's America coming to?I miss you. The wine tasting is in November.- Your neighbor directly across the street (and Henry)
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