So, the day we came to look at this place, we met the guy next door. Sort of a bombastic over-gregarious, aging lothario pirate type. The sort of fellow who, within three minutes of meeting you, has ensured that you know he has a sailboat. Seems relatively harmless and somewhat lonely, with a wee veneer of creepy. He has a dalmatian. His kitchen window looks right into ours and so Kirsten hastened to put up a blind, since he has a habit of eating staring out that window.
Yesterday we discovered he likes to cruise up and down our residential street, with the dalmatian, in his white jeep, blasting Queen with lots of thumping bass. Over and over. So bizarre.
I have opinions on things and I like to talk about them.
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