Foghorn Leghorn’s owner is a douche

I have never been so happy NOT to live next door to someone, as I am right now. We have a neighbor a few streets over, lets call him “Summers Eve” it has a ring to it you will understand in a moment.

See, Mr Summer has a rooster. Now, I grew up in the country, so I know roosters, they peck, they crow,and they serve no damned purpose other than strutting around making the chickens hormonal enough to lay eggs. Foghorn Leghorn was pretty much bang on, when it comes to roosters (Yes, I am still bitter about the pecking of my feet you little assholes)

Anyway, Foghorns owner is a douche. Roosters wake up a dawn, DAWN! And the crow, endlessly! For the entire day after dawn happens. On a farm this is no problem, farmer was probably up before the rooster, but I live in the outskirts of the city, where houses almost share a freaking window.

All I could think of on my walk to my bus stop, this morning, was how much his neighbors must want to barbeque his ass, not the rooster, the owner of the rooster.

Just a bit of what my thoughts were like this morning. I admit it, I was grumpy. 6 am is not optimum Bex time, more like “Leave me alone and I won’t kill you” time.


Published by Bexley Benton. (Pen name)

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog.

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