Uncle George for Mastercard

I have a neighbor that dresses like Uncle George. He's not African and I doubt has ever been to Africa. He probably has never set foot out of the US. I loathe to blog about him because I'm sure he googles himself incessantly. Only in LA. The Mister and I have taken to yelling out the windows, Kramden-style, because his stinky incense floats up into our window - and we don't even live directly above him. He says pervy things, too. He walks around barefoot and heads out every day, conveniently when school gets out, so he can charm the local high school girls with his words of wisdom. I've found websites where LA idiots actually blog about meeting an "real African tribesman!" ... if they only knew they were meeting a cheap con man. Then again, if they were that dumb, they deserve it. Ugh.