May 31, 2009

I don't hate my neighbors

Oh, shoot. Typo up there in the title. I have no idea how that "don't" got in there...

Reasons why I hate the people upstairs and diagonal from me:

1. If I want to go to a Brazilian concert, I will. However, it's 11:00 a.m. (thank GOD I'm not hung over) and all I here is this friggin' crap booming through my walls, my ceiling and my bones. And they're not even directly connected to my apartment. I feel so bad for the nice couple that lives next door from me and directly below them.

2. Your barbeque should not be plastic twisty-tied to your patio railing. Wait... it shouldn't? No. You should not have your el-cheapo barbeque grill sitting on top of a jumbo plastic paint bucket that is plastic-tie strapped to your railing. I can't quite put my finger on why I feel this way, but I'm sure it has something to do with LIGHTING THE WHOLE DAMN BUILDING ON FIRE because of your pollo and carne.

3. Playboy magazines do not belong on your dashboard. Well, maybe they do, I don't know. But every time I walk past their work van (see #4), I'm disgusted. I mean, there are children living here. And why is that thing in your car anyway? Never mind. I don't want to know -- and that's why this is on my list. Keep that magazine in your damn bathroom or under your bed or something. NOT in your car for all to see what you do in your car.

4. The work van (eww) is overflowing with garbage (literally). Not a day passes that I don't find a gas station hot dog holder or some other dirt kind of litter right where the van was parked. Seriously? We all live here. Your garbage can can't be more than 15 steps from your car. Don't throw nastiness on the ground. No one simply drives by here and throws crap out of their car -- it's someone that lives here -- and I'm not naming names, but they play their friggin' Brazilian music too loud, have a barbeque rigged to their patio rails and play with themselves in their car.

Just sayin.

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