He’s a Creep. He’s a Weirdo.


A few blocks from the dollhouse, there’s a spooky old place and its occupant that never fail to rattle me a little when I walk past. Even in the daylight, the house gives me the creeps, but at night I’m often notably startled by the guy who lives there. Seriously, the passing drivers who can’t see the weirdo looking out the window probably think I’m either having a minor seizure (winter) or am in the process of being stung by dozens of fire ants (summer), but I can’t control my reactions when I forget to brace myself.

Almost there, with crunchy dead leaves for effect.

Today, I thought I’d photograph him on my walk with Sherman, so all you folks out there in the blogiverse can appreciate the freakiness of the situation. Before you scroll down to the photos, I highly suggest you take a moment to go empty your bladders –not right where you sit! You’ll regret that later. Go to your bathroom and do what you gotta do. I’ll hang out and wait for you to get back.

Ready?

Are you sure?

Sherman, ready to go and way less frightened than he should be.

He moves from window to window, but I’ve never passed this house without the creep inside staring out at me through the glass. Can you spot him? I shot this photo from sort of behind a tree for my safety.

There he is, just as I expected. Creeper.

Check him out. The uniform makes the whole thing even creepier. Who actually wears a military uniform around the house? Do you know how much ironing that would make? Sometimes he’s dressed in an army uniform: other days, he’s dressed in his navy blues (check out that jaunty collar) with his hat tipped just so. Is that a conflict of interest?

It just gets weirder and weirder.

At least his uniform is spotless.

As I zoomed in, because I’m not dumb enough to leave the sanctuary of the sidewalk, the creep just stood there, watching me. I didn’t even see him blink.

It's the eyes. Those cold, flat, lifeless eyes.

I apologize for giving you nightmares. Imagine what it’s like knowing this guy lives in your neighbourhood. I should buy a baseball bat or a cast iron frying pan or a poison dart gun to keep in my room, just in case of a weirdo intrusion emergency.

Shudder.

copyright 2011:  http://bluespeckledpup.com

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5 Comments Add yours

  1. He’s scarier than Big Mean Kitty!

    1. Well, I don’t know about that. After all, this is Big Mean Kitty we’re talking about!

  2. Cinderella says:

    People have bizarre senses of humor.

    Does the person who owns the house keep that thing up all year?
    Does he have a sailor fetish? Is this some sort of weird joke between him and another guy?

    Or a Halloween thing waaaaaaay too early?

    Personally, I’d be tempted to buy an inflatable G.I.Joe doll and leave it on the lawn with a bunch of flowers and a love note for sailor boy(lol).

    1. He’s been there every day of the 15 months I’ve lived in the dollhouse. He has different uniforms, though, all of them military. I’m tempted to knock on the door and ask, but I’m a little afraid of what kind of strange folks live there.

      Could I write up a draft letter and slip it in the mailbox?

  3. FL Liz says:

    I think it’s hilarious! It does make ya wonder. Is the inhabitant paying homage to the military? Perhaps a war vet? Or perhaps just an owner of an army/navy surplus store with a sense of humor and extra inventory. Your lead up story was very good….ooo the suspense!

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