Why I'd Rather Live Across from Sloth

There's this guy across the street who's some kind of caretaker for a man with Alzheimer's. There's a man and a woman who take care of him, but I think he may be neglected because all these two seem to do is sit on the porch and talk on the phone (her) or stare at me (him). Apparently the daughters promised their father that they would never put him in a nursing home or sell his house as his Alzheimer's progressed, but I think they should renege on that because the house is falling down and he's being cared for by creeps.

The woman isn't that odd, mainly because while she's staring blankly across the street at me she's on the phone. This man, however, seem to have no hobbies besides leering and then yelling (literally. yelling.) strange things at me across the street. He must know that he's To Catch a Predator's wet dream, because he never comes within 100 feet of me.

The only way to understand the creep factor of this individual is to imagine the love child of the weird guardians of Pete in Pete's Dragon and the Fratellis from The Goonies. According to Wikipedia, those people who use Pete as a slave are called "The Gogans." I call them the stars of my nightmares from 1989-1993.

Now that you have a clear picture of the ghoulishness I face every day, you can imagine how apprehensive I am when I take Hero out for a tinkle in the front yard. We were out today and the Creep Keeper was outside, most likely waiting for me. He asked about Hero and I said something like, "Oh, he's a very good dog blah blah," and Captain Creepster says, "So, uh, does he bark when someone's standing outside your door?"

I thought about this for a second. Then I ran inside and locked the door and hid under my Slanket.