Sunday, September 12, 2010

Won't You be My Neighbor?

I have new neighbors.  I don't like them.  Here is a comprehensive list of why I don't like them (in no particular order)
  • They smoke: Okay, whatever, kill yourself, do what you want.  Except when doing what you want means your second-hand smoke wafts into other peoples' basement apartments, which let's face it, don't have a lot of ventilation to begin with.
  • They are philosophical:  Which, judging from the weed smell permeating the building (when not enveloped in a cloud of tobacco smoke); and the snippets of conversation I have been blessed to hear ("I mean, people should be terrified of other people, but they shouldn't be cowards...d'ya know what I mean?"); I'm guessing they're just high.
  • They have a dog:  Now, don't let anyone tell you I'm anti-dog.  Sure dogs are needy and smelly and dirty and dumb; but I love dogs.  Okay...maybe call me pro-cat.  But when your dog runs around the building, leash-less; peering into every ground-level window (which happen to be the basement apartment windows); thus scarring the shit out of any feline inhabitants of said basement apartment.  Then yes, maybe I am a bit anti-dog.
  • They're artists:  I'm not certain what exactly is their medium of choice, but I can say with somewhat certainty, that they consider themselves to be woodcutters.  Hence, the terrifying Yoda-like statue, carved from a tree stump that graced the driveway earlier this week
I can't wait for the next building potluck!