One more complaint, and it's a Molotov Cocktail over the property wall
I live next to Satan; Satan with saggy boobs and a non-functioning uterus, i suspect.
Allow me to explain. Ever since the contruction of my house, the bitch living behind me has not stopped complaining. And she complains about the most trivial things. I guess she need something to do when she's not feeding her six million cats.
Complaint #1:Piling and drilling too noisy
No shit, sherlock. That kinda happens when one builds a house. When she first complained, we decided to be considerate, and switch to quiter methods of drilling and piling. Apparently, that still riled up the spiders living in her hair. It was practically whisper quiet, but she still kept flappping her gums.
Complaint #2: Wall to high, drying clothes get no sun
Someone get this witch a compass. Her house faces south, meaning that the sun only shows up on the sides of her haunted manor. Since my house faces north, the backs of our houses are opposite each other, separated by a wall. She kept bitching about the height of the wall, and how her clothes wouldn't get sun. I felt like breaking her hip.
Complaint #3: Paint on MY house discoloured, her businness
The paint on the wall facing the back of her house has began to discolour a little. The beyotch takes it upon herself to annoy us nonstop about it. Is it any of her goddamned businness anyway? So what if the paint doesn't look brand spanking new? Her house looks like it's been there since the Wright Brothers' first flight, and probably has been, but do you see us complaining? Nooooo.
I want nothing more than to throw her ass into a boiling sea of lava.
I have to go. That bitch's house isn't going to set fire to itself.
Allow me to explain. Ever since the contruction of my house, the bitch living behind me has not stopped complaining. And she complains about the most trivial things. I guess she need something to do when she's not feeding her six million cats.
Complaint #1:Piling and drilling too noisy
No shit, sherlock. That kinda happens when one builds a house. When she first complained, we decided to be considerate, and switch to quiter methods of drilling and piling. Apparently, that still riled up the spiders living in her hair. It was practically whisper quiet, but she still kept flappping her gums.
Complaint #2: Wall to high, drying clothes get no sun
Someone get this witch a compass. Her house faces south, meaning that the sun only shows up on the sides of her haunted manor. Since my house faces north, the backs of our houses are opposite each other, separated by a wall. She kept bitching about the height of the wall, and how her clothes wouldn't get sun. I felt like breaking her hip.
Complaint #3: Paint on MY house discoloured, her businness
The paint on the wall facing the back of her house has began to discolour a little. The beyotch takes it upon herself to annoy us nonstop about it. Is it any of her goddamned businness anyway? So what if the paint doesn't look brand spanking new? Her house looks like it's been there since the Wright Brothers' first flight, and probably has been, but do you see us complaining? Nooooo.
I want nothing more than to throw her ass into a boiling sea of lava.
I have to go. That bitch's house isn't going to set fire to itself.
