Neighbours are talking.

I haven't been "seen" in the neighbourhood in about 3 months. Truth be told I can't stand the people who live in these parts. If I need to go out I'll escape through the back and walk up the bridal path and catch the bus that doesn't go down our street. Large, Blob's wife keeps rushing out to ask Phil where I am and he just says "Why, are you watching our every move?"

The neighbours are talking and I don't care, I'm DONE with them all. They're all unintelligient pond life. Today, Large has raided our bins, probably for evidence as to where I am. Don't know or care why, but if she shows her decrepid face on the day of the move I'm going to talk to her in her exact voice (I can do awesome impressions of her) then I'm going to attack her with a super soaker and tell her to get back inside.

I know we shouldn't attack old people with water guns, but she deserves it. Nosy, old fat, cow. She'll think twice about being a nosy neighbour in the future. She makes my blood boil, she had a go at us for displaying our bins in front of the flat and not in the back garden like the rest of the house conversions here.