I Hate My Next-Door Neighbors

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Journeyman Fan Joins Sixth NFL Team In 5 Years

HELENA, MT—Continuing his lengthy trek around the league, sources confirmed Friday that 36-year-old journeyman fan Brian Ferretti has joined the Arizona Cardinals, his sixth team in the past five years.

Is The Nation Ready For The Next Katrina?

Friday marks the 10-year anniversary of when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans, and many commentators have argued that not enough has been done over the past decade to address infrastructure and emergency response issues that could put coastal cities nationwide, including New Orleans, at risk of a catastrophe on a similar scale. Is the nation prepared for another Katrina?

Department Of Labor Study Confirms Your Job Most Demanding

‘None Of Your Friends Understand How Hard It Is,’ Report Reads

WASHINGTON—Noting that the level of mental strain associated with the profession was far and away the highest recorded, a federal study on workplace conditions and occupational stress released Thursday has confirmed that your job is the most demanding career in the entire nation, and that none of your friends or family fully understand how hard it is.

Neighborhood Starting To Get Too Safe For Family To Afford

CHICAGO—Explaining that the sense of unease she felt walking to and from her home had declined markedly over the years, Humboldt Park resident Kirsten Healy expressed her disappointment to reporters Thursday that her neighborhood was becoming too safe for her family to afford.
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Just Like Everything Else!: Fox 8 p.m. EDT/7 p.m. ABC Pete's wife is still on him about building that darn shed, these kids are going to be the death of Sheila and Dave, and the hot next-door neighbor is up in EVERYBODY'S business! Sunday nights on ABC couldn't be any more familiar!

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Ice Cream Truck Driver Going To Let These Kids Sweat A Little Bit Before Stopping

MILWAUKEE—Admitting that he’ll never get tired of looking in his rearview mirror and seeing their little legs going at full speed as they struggle to catch up to him, local ice cream truck driver Derek Kenney said that he once again planned on making the children on Maple Avenue sweat it out a little bit before stopping his vehicle.

I Hate My Next-Door Neighbors

Not long ago, I was the master of all I surveyed. As I gazed down from my mountain-top estate, I was confident in the knowledge that the fate of the yeomanry that cowered below was firmly in my grasp. I owned all the property in the local village and took 15 percent of the harvest. If a peasant wanted to leave the county, he had to pay a toll on one of my bridges and had to be back before night-fall, lest my feared mastiffs track him down and tear him limb-from-limb. Then the nouveau riche started moving in. Yes, I realize I just used a phrase from the hated French language, but it is the best way to describe the Johnny-Come-Latelies who have decided to pollute my environs with their effete ways. They claim they like to "winter" here, far from the chill and coal-smoke of the city, and hunt foxes, play polo and enjoy "cocktail" drinking-beverages and other silly nonsense.

The worst of these sap-heads are my closest neighbors, the Baintons. They are the heirs to an enormous soap fortune and are easily the worst idlers I have ever laid eyes upon. Rather than responsibly hoard their precious wealth in a large under-ground cave, they fritter it away on lavish parties, fashionable apparel and priceless jewels. And they're about the weakest-minded bunch I've ever seen. Last week, Chauncey Bainton, the paterfamilias, paid an uninvited call to my bed-chamber. "Zweibel, old stick, how the devil are you?" he said. "Care for a few holes of golf?" Now, who in their right mind would invite a 130-year-old man encased in an iron-lung to play golf? Barely controlling my temper, I said I would be in-disposed for the remainder of the after-noon. "What a pity," Chauncey said. "But not to worry—my wife C.Z. is arranging the most absolutely cozy little supper with a few of our dearest friends this evening, and we'd be ever so thrilled if you'd grace us with your presence. And please bring along your delightful great-grand-daughter Livia. Our sons Bubbles and Busby are just mad about her, really they are!" I'll be damned if any great-grand-daughter of mine ever consorts with those balloon-headed Bainton twits! But before I could react, Chauncey had scampered out of my bed-chamber, no doubt to mingle with one or more of my equally fatuous sons, who think the Baintons are, to use a slang term preferred by the youngsters, "the bee's knees." How I despise those neighbors of mine!