Moobs = Man Boobs.
I have a new story about our neighbors, The Poop Spies. You may recall them. When they moved into the house behind us last year, they developed a crazy fetish for watching our dog Petey poop in the yard. This husband and wife team would scurry to their window every time I took Petey outside. I could just imagine them giggling and shaking with excitement. “Look, honey, that dog is expelling a brown substance. What do you suppose it could be?”
I bet when I went back inside, they would sneak over and pick it up to examine.
Anyway, they aren’t what I’d call “rude”, but they definitely aren’t social. If people fail to provide any insight into their personality to me, I have no choice but to create my own characters. So this is how it all goes down…
This husband has major moobs. But in my head, I’ve decide they are actually breast implants. When he is in the house, he likes to dress up in women’s clothing. But when he goes to work each day, he dresses in a suit (okay, that part is true). Other people in his stuffy office just assume the moobs are excess fat tissue, but they’re not. They are full fledge titties. So each afternoon, when he gets home, he can’t wait to get out of those uncomfortable clothes and slip into something more comfortable.
His wife is totally into it, too. They play dress up, paint each other’s toe nails, and wait with baited breath until I take Petey out to poop.
To wrap it all up, I’ve decided that he has low self esteem days. Sometimes he just looks in the mirror with a frown, teases the hair of his wig and says “I just don’t feel pretty today.”
I know. I’m vicious. What did this man ever do to me? Sorry, but I need some way to entertain myself with these people. And I’m not saying there is anything wrong with men who like to dress as women. I’m just saying… well… it’s fun to pretend this man who dresses in a suit each day has a secret that he’s keeping behind closed doors.
Ohhh… and one more thing! When he mows the lawn, he wears grey t-shirts, which are notorious for showing sweat stains. He mows at noon, when it’s the hottest out… AND HE DOESN’T SWEAT! I don’t get it. There are no stains growing from his armpits, or down his back. His face doesn’t look wet and shiny. Where the hell does the sweat go? I don’t get it!
Maybe he isn’t a real human at all…