Crap Poo Dookie Turd

Looks like rain. I hate the rain. There's a 30% chance for rain on Sunday and a 70% chance for golf.

I walked my dog twice last night, once after work and once after Point Pleasant. The first time around this old guy came up to me and says, "Hey you're not letting your dog go around here, are you?"
I said, "Yes I am. Where else would he go?"
He says, "I live right here and I'd appreciate it if you'd take him somewhere else."
"Sure thing. No problem. Where should I take him?"
"I don't know. Over there." Points to another grassy area.
"Alrighty then."
I walked away and started the old 'That's what I shoulda said' thing.
I mean, come on. I live here too. There's dog shit all over the place. It's a biological fact of life that animals must excrete their waste. If I don't let my dog shit when he needs to, he might damage something in his bowels and impact his colon. I refuse to risk my dog's health for one old bastard who doesn't watch his step. And taking him to another place only means he'll be shitting near someone else. And I refuse to pick the turds up, no one else in the complex does it.

So, the second time I walked Mak we went another route. I usually try to take him the same way because he can't see much and he's familiar with the obstacles, but if it'll ease relations in the neighborhood I can be flexible. We were walking along and I noticed what looked like a person laying in the grass. As I got closer I realized it was a guy and he was either 1)dead 2) knocked out or 3)passed out. Turns out it was #3. I tried to get him up, but he was way too far gone for that. Then a man and woman came up and started asking where the party was at. I said I didn't know about any parties. Then the man proceeded to hoist the half-dead guy over his shoulder and shove him into a car. Turns out they are the kids parents and he's a senior in high school. Then they said something about calling the police and I left.