I Smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E

Going running in my neighborhood is always an experience.
First of all, the hood rat boys in the neighborhood can always be counted on to shout out rude things such as, "Nice ASS" and "Gimme a piece of THAT" all the while mixing in whistles and "whoohoo" shouts as you run by. The kids are old enough to know better, so I've taken to flipping off the little bastards as I pass them. I don't even wait for the shouting to commence anymore. I just spot them and get middle finger into ready mode. Jackasses!
If they don't get to you, the little kids that follow you on their bicycles, riding dangerously close to your ankles and screaming, "beep beep" are sure to distract you. One kid actually clipped my ankles with his little trike one time. Jackasses in training, I tell you!
And if, by chance, you make it through the big and little kids, the animals are there as a last line of defense to ensure that unhealthy Americans stay that way. Just yesterday, I had gone jogging and ran across this beautiful little dog that ran up to me out of nowhere. It followed me for probably 1/3 of a mile, jumping on my legs and tripping me up. When, finally, I stopped to pet it, it starts crazy growling at me and bearing it's teeth. That's no good. Jackass animals too?
It's a conspiracy to force me indoors - I know it!
I can't do that. I've got the bad metabolism and my thighs are susceptible to dimpling!
Nobody wants that...