My name is Bob Santos, I live next door to the Duggars, and here are some of my journal entries.
June 26 – I hate my realtor. He knew. He definitely knew. And he scheduled a showing for me at this house while that damn family was on vacation. ‘Why has this place been on the market for 726 days?’ I asked, ‘oh, sometimes people just don’t know a good thing when they see it!’ I hate him.
July 2 – It’s like Lord of the Flies next door, I swear to God they use an honest to goodness conch shell to call for dinner time. Do they eat out of a trough? How does that work even?
July 15 – I was convinced the parents didn’t even teach all of their children to speak. I thought they had a series of mildly sophisticated grunts that they used. I just kept hearing these series of grunts out of one of the windows that’s always open and it seemed a logical conclusion. But then I realized it is just a bathroom, and there is a constant stream of someone pooping. WHAT ARE YOU FEEDING YOUR CHILDREN!? Those poor souls need more
August 1 – Took a two week vacation … burned all of my hours already this year. I just had to get away. On the plus side, I came back and there was a note from the Duggars welcoming to the neighborhood. The signatures from all those kids made me picture the bottom of the Declaration of Independence.
August 7 – I was barbecuing out back when one of their kids, who knows which one, popped his head up and said, ‘I smell meat.’ Then he turned his head in my direction and sniffed while staring at me. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight.
August 15 – Apparently burning your own house down for insurance fraud is difficult to successfully do. I’ll keep researching though.
August 22 – I think the older demon spawn are at school finally. Oh no. You don’t think the parents are going to use this as an opportunity to make another one? Please no.
August 29 – One of the kids invited me to dinner at their house. I am conflicted. If you could, would you take a brief trip to hell to see what it’s like?
August 30 – I am reminded of Colonel Kurtz. The horror. The horror. We had spaghetti for dinner. I brought a bottle of wine. I drank 3/4 of it.
September 7 – House is on the market. I’ll take the loss.
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