Love thy Neighbor

Like most apartments, ours definitely lacks storage space. Space of any sort if we're going to be really honest. So our patio is not a relaxing spot to sip tea, but a make shift garage. But one where we store things that no one would want to steal. It's on the ground floor and well... people have a tendency to help themselves to things not locked down. That is not what our neighbors do.

I don't really know the neighbors. And quite frankly, nor do I want to. If I knew them I might have to feel bad about the Coonhound that resides with us. As of this moment, I don't feel bad. Because here's what I do know.

Our neighbors are lazy. Lazy good for nothin's if you ask me. They have a little rat of a dog. For a long time we didn't even know they had a rat dog because they never take the said dog out to do it's business. But even rat dogs pee and poop. They let it go on their porch. They actually do store crap on their porch.

As I sat down this evening to the computer, I heard an unusual sound. The sound of water dripping quite heavily, but it couldn't be rain. Could it? Um, no. That would be the sound of the water dripping from above while the neighbors clean the crap off their porch- directly onto mine and my not-quite-so crappy crap.

Somebody walk their cat next to our window right now! I'd like to un-leash the fury of Coonhound hell on my neighbors. After all, I don't know them, don't want to, and what I do know makes me all that more excited to move in two weeks.