smileytraveler

whatwouldjesuspoo

I'm a little sensitive lately. Been lashing out at people I love an stuff and I can't quite put my finger on why. Luckily, I have the luxury of being alone with my thoughts and thinking about life, which I hear is becoming very hard to do with all these “important” notifications we have to respond to RIGHT NOW and all the important people we have to entertain on Facebook and the like.

Man, I'm at a loss. I'm at a loss with what the hell has happened to people. Every time I bring something up that seems downright absurd to me I'm either ignored or called crazy. Am I overthinking this? Does thinking about something logically truly have its limits? Like, at some point do we reach diminishing returns by dissecting something and turning it on it's head a thousand times? Do we just give up, keep our mouths shut and join the crowd in saying: yeah, man that's the way the world is.?

I guess it is me. I guess I never lost my rebellious spirit. I'm a grown-ass woman but I still question life as if I'm in high school. The sad part is: I know everyone else around me is thinking the same...damn...thing. It takes a lot of courage to speak up. But that's always been the case, right?

For the 17 of you that read this blog, welcome back. I truly appreciate you. I know I've been nebulously sharing family drama lately and when I have the strength I'll go into it in great detail. I'm afraid the post I'll have to write to explain it will be a mini-novel, so I'm gearing up for the day when I'll sit my ass in a chair, not move for a few hours, and let my little fingers run like hell.

But, for now, let's get into reason 487,398 why I think people have lost their damn minds.

Welcome Back, Comrade

A bit of back story. Yes, I've been traveling like a gypsy for well over a decade, but I've always had sort of a “home base”. It's a rental property when I'm not here, but when it's vacant it's somewhere to take a load off, regroup, feel “normal”...you get the idea.

It's a condo we bought back in 2006. Back when we were a we and I wasn't yet just a me.

Yes, it had an HOA. But that's just how it is in good ol' Florida. Let me put it this way: communities without an HOA command a premium. And, if you've ever had the misfortune of living in a “deed restricted community”, you know exactly why people don't mind paying more to buy their freedom.

We bought it, whatever. But, back then I remember bragging to friends in stricter communities how laid back they are here. I was like, yeah, it's great! People are super chill and generally mind their own business. Sucks for you!

Now, I haven't been here in years. Just moved back in to make some repairs, and I'm sad to report that's not the case anymore. My, my, how time changes a people.

I could write an actual novel about what's happened with our Glorious Leaders since I got back here three months ago, but today, we'll just focus on the most entertaining thing.

Same Shit, Different Day

So, I get a dog. I know...my days of travel and adventure are as good as over. I bring him home. I'm stressed AF. He's absolutely stressed AF, having been torn out of one home and circle of trust and sent off with a stranger. I'm trying to get him settled, deal with my own shit, renovate some crap in the house, and so forth. Not four days into bringing him home I get an email from our “Community Manager”. (How fucking sad we need someone to “manage” communities of autonomous, supposedly thinking adult human beings, but this is the world we want.)

I would pull up the actual letter but I'm lazy so I'll paraphrase:

Good afternoon Miss [Redacted],

It has come to our attention that you are in possession of a certain blonde canine. As you very well know, in our Community, all dogs must be registered with the office. During this registration process you will be asked to provide vaccination records and proof of neutering (for male dogs).

Sounds like our modern world, right? If you have balls you're not welcome here.

But, in all seriousness, their request didn't seem that unreasonable. Of course I'll provide vaccination records and whatever nonsense y'all need. I can completely understand that you don't want anyone running around with rabies. Well, no dogs anyway.

Now, whenever something seems reasonable coming from the lips of an HOA, my friends, you haven't been reading long enough.

You are also required to register your dog with our Poo Prints program to ensure a healthy and sanitary environment for all.

I'm sorry...Poo what?

I chuckle a little cause I like the word “poo”. What the hell are they talking about?

Turns out, these lunatics would like to DNA test my dog's shit. If you're asking “why?” right now, congratulations...you are a sane person. But, don't worry. I speak lunatic, so I'll translate.

They would like to DNA test my dog's shit so that, just in case I don't pick up his shit, they can slap me with a big, fat fine. Again, this makes sense on the surface. People are dicks who don't clean up after their dogs. Nobody wants to step in dog dookie while they're walking through the grass, right? Well, suuuurrrree. I guess. I would at least throw ya a bone if I ever actually saw anyone in the grass. I don't. But, what about kids playing?! you ask. Nope. Never see any of those, either. I know there are kids here, but they certainly aren't outside playing...that would just be silly.

Again, on the face of it, this doesn't seem like an outlandish idea. Fine those who don't clean up after their dogs. Full stop. But, ahhhhh, that's where most people would stop using their little God-given bean and call it a day.

I think about it further.

So, you're telling me, you are going to make me do something as ridiculous as DNA test my dogs shit in the first place...fine. But what happens next? Let's explore, shall we? When you find my dog's shit you are going to have to 1. Take a photo of it. (I am not making this up!) 2. Bag up the offender's specimen. 3. Send said specimen off to a lab. A lab containing REAL SCIENTISTS, I presume. 4. Wait to get the results back. 5. When the results come back, take the time to write me a letter, which gives me the option to “appeal”...

Sorry, I'm literally laughing out loud writing this.

5. Then, I can waste more of management's time, and mine, attending the appeal, seeing the “evidence”, which is a photo...of...my...dog's...shit. Read the DNA report. Nod pensively and scratch my chin while taking it all in...

“Yes, yes gentlemen. This does in fact appear to be my dog's shit. I cannot deny such solid detective work.”

I would be offended if this weren't so fucking hilarious. This is solid gold HOA living right here.

So, after aaaaallll this time and effort, why don't they just clean up the shit, on-site, in the grass, and call it a day? Wouldn't that be cheaper for everyone? If you just asked this question, dear reader, you are still a sane human being.

I heard the reason we don't just have maintenance clean up the shit and let everyone get on with their precious lives is because The Board voted it down. Nobody wants to pay for it! they say.

No, no they don't. Instead, these idiots wants to make everyone around them go through this humiliating and downright ludicrous process, taking up valuable sciencing time so some poor schmuck who would rather be curing cancer can DNA. TEST. MY. DOG'S. SHIT!

Really?! Fucking really?

This is the world we want to live in? Seriously, who hurt you when you were a child? Who didn't educate you in school about economics and how opportunity cost works?

I have no reason to complain, so I'll stop. After all, I've never voted in one of these fancy Board Meetings.

But, just cause I can't complain doesn't mean I can't have a little fun...

Have Mercy, Your Honor

I was mad when I first got the letter. We've been busted. Of course I cannot recall a single time when I didn't pick up the detestable feces, except that one time when he had the runs. I bent down to bag it up and it “ran” right out of the bag. Nothing to pick up. Nothing to see here. The rain will wash it clean within hours, fuck off and good night. (It was late.)

Jesus, people! How could you be so petty? But two can play this game. If you take my dog's shit so seriously, so will I.

So I will go to this appeal! I will bring the accused! I will prostrate myself before judge and jury. I will beg for their forgiveness.

(If I pluck a few nosehairs I might even be able to force a tear.)

But I'm not done yet...

I will wear a pantsuit. My client will wear a jacket and tie. I will get him tired first at the dog park so he looks extra sorry.

If this is what it takes to make these people feel important and powerful for once in their lives, I'm willing to do it.

At the end of the day, I just want to get out of this $180 fine.

Yep, you heard that right. ONE-HUNDRED-AND-EIGHTY dollars. For shit.

That's a lot of money for something critters have been doing out in grass for hundreds of millions of years. But, fuck it, I'm bored. You can't find entertainment like this on TV, folks.

Maybe a little humor will soften their hearts. I'll report back on the verdict when this is all over.

#poogate #justice #whatwouldjesuspoo?