Anyway, the guy this tale is about had a nice yard and worked to keep it that way. But he had a neighbor a few houses down that would let his big old dog run loose and of course it crapped in all the yards up and down the street. The guy at work talked to the dog owner 2 or 3 times about not letting his dog run loose and take dumps in other people's yards but nothing changed.
One morning he came home from a particularly bad graveyard shift and when he got out of his car here's this big old pile of fresh dog shit in the grass by his driveway. He just about loses it. He grabs a shovel from the shed, a bag from the garage and scoops up the almost steaming pile of fresh dog shit and bags it. Then he heads down the street scooping up dog shit from every yard along the street till he has a pretty good bag of dog shit going. Some fresh, some old and dried, but all dog shit.
He walks up to the dog owner's house and rings the door bell. When the dog owner comes to the door he jumps his ass about letting that dog run loose and shitting in people's yards and he tips the bag up and dumps all that dog shot on the guys porch. Then he tells him the next time he finds dog shit in his yard he well dump another bag of dog shit on the guys porch.
The guy looks down at all the mashed/busted, stinking dog shit, then looks at the pissed off guy and says, "Al, my dog died two weeks ago." Al cleaned up the dog shit, went home, took a shower and tried to get some sleep to be ready for the next graveyard shift.
One of the funny parts about this story is Al was the easy going one of the two brothers that worked there. The other one was notorious far and wide for being difficult to work with while he was on graveyard shift.
this is funny as heck if true. Even if not true still funny