My neighbor, Kate, she drives me gaga. Oh, Kate, how my eyes track you picking up the paper each morning. How many orange juice glasses have I dropped ogling you in your skin-tight leggings stretched across your oh, my, my, of a perfect bottom, your thin white tank top forms a poor barrier for the penetrating beam of my imagination sweeping back and forth across your chest like a sexy bomb detector. So intense my affection, I pick up the poop from other people’s dogs on my front lawn in a ruse to get but a bit closer gaze upon your MILFy perfection. Oh, Kate, I’m picking up stranger’s dog’s poop, look what you have done to me. What shall I do? What? Cold shower? Oh, Kate, you’re so sensible!