I went down the block to ask my neighbors to turn their car stereo down, picking up bottles and cans as I went to put in the recycling. When I got to the passenger side window, I found myself looking into a handful of meth and a guy who looked like Kevin Federline, the inbred edition. "Um, can you turn that down?"

"Thank you," said Kevin.

Dude, if you're going to be doing drugs in broad daylight, do you think you should keep your fucking stereo down? Morons.

Then, to really underline the point, I get back home, wipe my hands off, and get a whiff of weed coming in the window from the little house where the other Kevin Federline lives. Then comes a huge BANG as they set off something that makes a rather loud explosion. Dude, anything that large is probably illegal, plus I have a suspicion you're dealing, too. Why not just wear a sign?

Sheesh.

And now I'm left with Kevin #1's buck teeth, lack of chin, unibrow, and pocky skin in my mind. Yuck. Imagine if your family tree of full of Carrot Tops, what the end product would be. Yikes. That was him.