our neighbors hate us...

 No, like seriously…they do. I would hate us. I do hate us.

It’s not that we are bad neighbors…we recycle and shit…we are just weird.

So, for those of you that don’t know (or just skim my blog) I’m living in NYC with my best friend Matt.  We live in a pre-war building…so we are fucking on top of our neighbors.

The guy right next to us owns five cats…outside his door smells like cat piss…well cat piss and pot…so yeah… we’re that close.

So I think I can safely assume that if I can smell our neighbor’s cat (I pray to god that it’s cat)
piss…then the whole fucking building can hear our “fake” fighting.

Yeah, don’t ask. We legitimately fake fight, for no apparent reason at all.

“YOUR MOTHER IS A WHORE!”

“WELL IF SHE WASN’T WHORE…I WOULDN’T BE HERE!”

“I’M NOT SURE IF THAT’S SUCH A GOOD THING!”

…and then we laugh…but I don’t think our neighbors hear the laughing...

At this point I don’t even know what to do. All our neighbors are probably assuming that we are in a freakish abusive relationship.

And it’s not like I wanted to be friends with these people…I just don’t want the po po randomly showing up because of an anonymous domestic violence call.

…and I don’t want any random death threat notes left under our door telling us to stop watching so much fucking “Lost”….we (I) watch a lot of “Lost”… whatever, neighbors with terrible taste in television….you keep watching your early morning “Charmed” episodes, with the remnants of cat piss scattered throughout your apartment. You keep doing your thing…and we’ll keep doing ours.

Cause let’s be honest…this is New York, bitches. Things could be much worse.