There are generally two places that I spend most days. Either my office at school, or in my apartment. I imagine most people have a similar arrangements. Unfortunately, I have been blessed to have absolute lunatics for neighbors in both of these places. I don't feel safe anywhere. My next door office neighbor I have posted about if some of you remember. She is an international student from China. This girl talks and talks and talks. She has no sense of boundaries. She frequently comes barreling into my office, grabs my box of goldfish and starts asking me ridiculous questions while munching away. The questions are the most difficult things to answer. Things like "how do you define friendship?" and "In America, when you have a boyfriend or girlfriend is it common to have sex with them?" She is also a complete slob. Our offices are typically for 2 people each. Her officemate has abandoned the office because she took over the entire thing. The floor is littered with all sorts of disgusting snacks. Her diet is absolutely horrifying. Nothing but chocolate, candy, microwaved noodles, snack cakes, etc. Everything she touches is immediately greasy. She also has no sense of privacy. One time she was in my office and I left to throw something away and I came back and she was reading my e-mails. Not even something I had left up, she clicked on the Gmail tab and clicked on a message and was reading it. She has also taken my phone out of my hands and started reading my text messages. Friday morning I was very busy studying so I locked my door and put my headphones in to focus. She knocked on the door over and over. When I didn't answer she sent me a message telling me to open up. I let her in, she yapped for 10 minutes, then said "don't lock this again" and left. Going home isn't much better. I think my neighbor is a schizophrenic. When I first moved there I would frequently hear her throwing water outside. This puzzled me for a while until I realized what she was doing. She was washing her windows. She washes them at least 4 times a week and almost always around 3 in the morning. Her apartment is freakishly clean. She also has shouting matches with herself at all hours of the night. One night I came home around 9 or 10 o clock and I found her standing outside staring up at the sky. I said "Hi, how are you." She looked me up and down, and then went back to looking at the sky. The absolute scariest: On two occasions I have heard her standing outside singing songs in the middle of the night. It is absolutely terrifying. Focus: Tell us about insane neighbors you have had in the past or present.
My neighbour 3 doors down I got along swimimmingly the first two years in our house. I originally met him though coincendence- he came to my store and I sold him his new flooring for his house, I just happened to be his neighbour. I soon found out like me he loved his weed so we got along well, even though he was generally a Not Very Bright Person (he alughed at ANY joke, was fascinated with ANYTHING). He also was emotionally unstable, and his out-of-his-league-in-looks wife and daughter were leaving because of his temper around them. I'm pretty sure he got into heavier drugs or booze, because one night my wife and I were on our porch, he came walking by with a new puppy and asked us in a five-minute span if we had seen his new dog yet...about 12 times.His skin was pale like a Siberian and his eyes were sinking into his face. He looked sick. It was sad to see. My wife stared at each other during this time..."he's fucked up" we were both thinking. The next day I saw him the next day at our neighbourhood store's parking lot, and worried about the guy, I asked him if he was into heavy shit. Well, HE LOST HIS FUCKING SHIT. Even at 6'6", this guy scampered over the hood of his car and started screaming threats and insulting my family, with my 2-year-old daughter sitting right there in her child seat. It was an INSTANT reaction, and I KNEW I was right in asking. He's close to nine inches taller than me, so he was trying to stand WAY over me and make himself look bigger and intimidating. Then, he insults my wife so I shoved him back on the hood of his car and told him if he came near my house again I'd kill him right on the front lawn (and beleive me, at the time I meant it). I know death threats are stupid and carry a thrid-degree assault charge up here, so I regret saying that. Not to him, just in general. Just like that, a friendship went *poof*. Still to this day he barely even waves at us when going by and NEVER says a word directly. He'll barely even let his daughter ever play with mine, and they're just little kids. Pathetic.
I had two shouting matches in my apartment this Sunday morning/afternoon. One was a gay breakup/moveout that involved the thrown out party calling the other one a nigger (Note: neither party was black), saying he'd called the now-ex's mom to tell her that her son treated him like a dog, and dramatically pretending to trip and fall down the stairs....twice. The other one was at 10 AM on a Sunday morning, and was a woman screaming for an hour. The oddest thing was that the man just didn't respond. From what I could gather, he sat down in a chair and just tuned her out for the entire hour. It also featured the quote "Fine. FINE! Go back to fucking cowboys then!" My ladyfriend says it was probably 'California' but I prefer my version.
A tip: Don't live next door to a newlywed couple in an apartment building unless your outer walls are as thick as the NORAD blast door. JESUS whenever that bulsa-wood door shut of theirs, it became a battle to death with two nymphomaniacal migrating geese. "YOU HORSE!! YOU...BIG...FUCKING...HORSE.... NEVER STOP FUCKING ME!!!!!!!" A fucking nightmare when you're a horny, single 22 year old. Chater had a better (re: hilarious) story he posted a while back on here:
Well, there is my neighbor across the street now. I've ranted about him before, but this dude is clearly OCD. We've spoken twice. The first time right after we moved in, and he seemed nice enough. Then, over the summer, I started to notice that he was mowing my next door neighbor's lawn. Then my other neighbor. Mind you, both of these neighbors have giant riding lawn mowers in their garages that I've seen them use. Then I saw him six houses down mowing those lawns. Then I saw him mowing the two vacant lots next door to him (with a push mower). Finally, I talked to another neighbor, who said this guy will literally walk down the street with his lawn mower, mowing anyone's lawn he deems "too long." They said he is more bold when he knows people aren't home, and he had to tell the guy several times to knock that shit off. He also told me the police had been called to his house multiple times because of domestic disturbances (i.e. shouting matches with his wife that could be heard blocks away). Then he targeted me. I'd come home to find a small strip of my lawn cut right along the curb, like he just did one row to say "this is where your grass should be!" A while later, my wife left for work (this is summer and I was a student, so I wasn't working). He came over and just started mowing my lawn. I opened the window and he looked up at me, made eye contact, got a look of "oh fuck!" and then immediately turned and started cutting my neighbor's lawn. This passive aggressive act of cutting a small part of my lawn to make a point continues throughout the first and second summer we live here. Finally, on Halloween this year, he comes over and starts talking with my mother-in-law, another bastion of batshit craziness. (Note: I got this as the 'real version' of this story from my wife, as I wasn't home for this conversation). My mother-in-law starts picking out imperfections about our house, as finding flaws in everything is her number one hobby. Of course, she mentions how she hates the bushes in our front yard. The guy offers to trim them, my mother in law says 'that's a great idea!" and my wife says fine, being apparently unable to disappoint her mother. Then I come home, and the guy chats for a minute then retreats back to his yard. About two weeks later, I come home to find the bushes "trimmed," by which I mean "cut down to the fucking roots." He also took the opportunity to mow my lawn. In mid November, when a lawn mower hasn't been heard in a good month. Oh, and he also cut my grass down to the dirt. I can literally see the dirt under all the dead grass. Awesome. Sure am glad I spent so much fucking money on TruGreen this year to make my lawn NOT look like shit. It was all I could do not to punch that mother fucker, but my wife gave him the opening and he took it. I couldn't give him shit when my wife gave him permission. Luckily, I don't see him out much in the winter, unless he is washing his cars. If he comes to my house again to start cutting the lawn this summer, I'll have to kindly inform him of what trespassing laws are. None of this gets into his other habits. He will wash his cars on a daily basis. If the temperature in the winter gets above 40, he will hook up his hose and wash his cars, sometimes two or three times. When he isn't mowing lawns or washing cars, he is screaming at his kid for riding his bike in someone's driveway. The kid is about 8, riding his bike with a helmet, knee and elbow pads, gloves, and shin guards, and still has training wheels, so he has to make wide, sweeping turns. The kid does this by riding into a driveway to make a U-turn, and every single time he does, his dad is screaming at him, at the top of his lungs, to "stay the fuck out of other people's driveways" (Yes, the comedy of this is not lost on me). Then, I see the kid try to turn around in the street, to which the guy screams "stay the fuck out of the street!" At this point, I question why this kid even has a bike if his dad will only let him ride it in a straight line on a side walk while wearing more padding than a hockey player, never mind the fact that I highly doubt any of my neighbors would yell at a kid for turning their bike around in our driveways. I'm sure I'll continue to interact with the lawnmower man more as the years progress. Yay.
There's another beautiful aspect of living in tight NYC apartment buildings - mistaken identities. I lived with a girlfriend on the lower east side for several years, and for a couple years we had a couple living in the studio next door. They were insane, both of them - they would have these screaming fights that would go on for hours - vicious screaming, too, the kind that you know is going to make you hoarse for days. Anyway, one night they were going at it, and he was completely losing his mind. Three-year-old tantrum-type screaming, smashing stuff around, throwing things at walls - the kind of behavior that, had she cheated on him with every man in his office, IN his office, still would've been over the top. I remember sitting there with my girlfriend and alternately laughing and acting worried, occasionally asking each other - "okay, that - was that a slap? Is he touching her?" But it was pretty clear to both of us that whatever was happening in there, it wasn't physical abuse, unless you count the stuff he was throwing around, somehow you could just tell from the way she was acting that, not only wasn't he hitting her, she wasn't afraid he would. So we figured, "fuck 'em both, they deserve each other," and decided not to call the police as long as it didn't seem like she was in physical danger. But my neighbors downstairs either couldn't hear well enough to make that same conclusion, or they just decided that the screaming was enough, and they called the police. So in the middle of a lull in the fighting (of course), there's a knock on my door. I answer it, and a cop tells me there's been a complaint about me, and I was going to have to come outside and talk with one of them while the other talks to my girlfriend (in NYC, if the police are called to a domestic disturbance, one of you has to leave for the night, by law). I said, "no, it's next door," and the asshole takes me by the arm and pulls me out into the hallway (which is just every fucking kind of illegal) and starts telling me how much trouble I'm in until my girlfriend comes to the door and the other guy goes to pull her inside, and she looks at me and (god bless her) says, "Idiot! It's not us, it's next door!" So blah blah blah, they talk to the two next door, the guy has to leave for the night and looks at me like he wants to kill me (because he thinks I called the police on him!) and I'm fresh out of fucks to give so I don't bother to correct him, but then the next day I see my downstairs neighbor in the hall, and she glares at me, totally holding my eyes and judging me with all of her might, and I suddenly realize why the cops thought it was my apartment! She thought it was me and my girlfriend! I tried to speak, but she kind of scurried off before I could say anything, and for the next two years until they moved out, every single time I saw her or her girlfriend they would look at me with derision and my girlfriend with righteous pity. These days, I just yell at the kids to stay off my lawn.
Here's how to solve your problem: Go to the hardware store and buy 2' length of 1" steel pipe from the plumbing section. On a day when Mr. Mow isn't around, get a sledge hammer and pound that fucker into your lawn so that it only sticks up just below the top of the grass. He will hit the pipe and it will break the blade on his mower. Sure he can replace the blade at his own expense and keep doing it, but after about a dozen busted blades, he'll wise up. If he doesn't, you might have to dig a trench from your garage to the pipe and rig an extension cord up to it. Make sure there is a puddle of water all around the pipe when you do this.
I had a neighbor across the street from me that was in some kind of car wreck when she was younger and consequently lived with her mother her whole life. Apparently she was normal once, but certainly not when I knew her. Aside from the random screaming, which was manageable, she was obsessive about her yard care and she didn't care what time of day it was. Every so often, she would decide that she absolutely had to mow her lawn or crank up the leaf blower to clear out the driveway at 2 AM. It wasn't malicious or anything. She just didn't seem to know better. She and her mother also drank hard, but normally kept to themselves when they were in the bottle. Normally. One time I was out of town and had someone coming by to spend the night and take care of the dog. They knew I was out of town, but the fact that my friend was using the front door and had keys must not have registered to them. They decided I was being broken into repeatedly, so one night after drinking themselves into a stupor, they waited until the lights went off and in the name of catching my robber who was so bold to actually shack up in the house, broke in. They snuck around the back of the house, smashed in a window, climbed through (leaving blood and glass all over the place) and stomped in like the vigilantes they thought they were. One of my other neighbors heard the glass and dog barking and called the cops, leading to a confrontation I would have loved to been there for- A drunk, bloody 60 or 70something lady, her drunk, bloody 40 year old disabled/insane daughter, an angry 100 lbs. dog and my buddy all screaming at the top of their lungs while the cops tried to make right of it all. Not long after the mother was sick and the daughter was sent to some kind of group home.
Not exactly psycho, but one neighbor I had was endlessly berating his wife and kids, and his rants were so absurd that I actually started writing some of his quotes down. Some favorites were: "What the fuck are you doing to these plants? Talking to them? Why don't you try watering them?" and "No your sister can't stay here! She's a fucking cunt! She ain't got a life!" The funniest part was that he was this short, skinny guy who always wore glasses. If his wife wanted, she could have easily kicked his ass.
When I was in college, my roommate and I had to be the absolute worst neighbors in history. We moved into some apartments within walking distance of the campus populated by Daddy's little princesses, some quiet stoners who adored solitude and some people who were too old to live in a dorm. Some highlights: -We threw a party that attracted everyone in a 3 mile radius, because some asshole uttered the phrase "free beer". This was on a Tuesday during exam week. -My roommate secretly did coke and went on rages that would inspire Tyson. At one point, he threatened to shoot the high-school age sister of our neighbor with an empty and harmless paintball gun that he claimed was "Marine-issued" and "a grenade shotgun." He also valiantly tried to punch a hole in the vinyl siding. -My roommate did not exist on actual food, he existed on Natural Light, Marlboros and idiocy. Once a week, he would take out a trashbag filled with beer cans and cigarette boxes (nothing else) and just sit it by our staircase. He assumed someone would want to hide it from visiting parents and physically take it to the trash. -Between five people, we broke every post on our stairs by falling down the stairs drunk,as well as 3/4 of the windows. -There was a high school senior that lived beneath us that we blamed our more horrendous actions on, because the police were constantly there busting them for underage parties. Most of our trash and items that were drunkenly stolen were put on her back porch because she never locked that door. -I drove a particularly loud car, and I was frequently required to travel to work/internships at 5 a.m. I gave not a single fuck. -My roommate and associates would frequently park wherever they chose, and obstruct nearly every other vehicle in the complex, especially on the weekends. -Our neighbor's father, a Marine veteran, came to speak to us because his little angel identified us as a threat to her safety. That conversation ended with a visit from the county. I don't know how I didn't go to jail during this period of my life, and if it wasn't so damned fun, I would feel bad about how horrible of a human being I was. In my defense, I spent the majority of my time during that year at my then-girlfriend's house, even to the point of leaving my xbox there because I was there so much and so it didn't get destroyed/stolen.
One of my neighbors during college was a single mother and her high school aged son. This lady was a fucking cunt to that poor kid. She could regularly be heard in the halls of our apartment complex screaming at her son. She would throw things at him, tell him he was a piece of shit and that his father didn't want him so she was forced into taking him, and all sorts of other stuff. They lived next to me for two years and I didn't hear any yelling for the first six months or so but when it started, it was a weekly or bi-weekly thing. At another apartment complex I lived in during college, I lived below two guys just out of college. One of them had a crazy girlfriend and I was fortunate to overhear their breakup. The guy and the crazy girlfriend had been in many fights over the year that I lived there but one night I guess she had enough and started throwing stuff around his room and accused him of cheating on her. She then left, and a few minutes later the two guys leave. She then comes back and wrecks their place. I'm in my garage and I hear her turing absolutely tossing the place. She turned over TVs, shattered stuff, and then stole some shit. As she is leaving the apartment who should show up? You guessed it. The two guys got back as she was coming out of the house with their shit and a screaming match ensued in their driveway.
I lived in Morocco for about a year working for an NGO that did touchy-feely shit for poor people. My roommate and I lived in a crappy apartment in the middle of Casablanca's financial district and did everything we could to negate the positive karma we accrued from our jobs. As moderate as Morocco can claim to be, it's still an Islamic country full of barely-literate zealots. And all the alcohol, foreigners, devil music and drugs that flowed through our apartment was more than enough to set the neighbors on edge. It probably would have irked people here, to be honest. One of our neighbors - who we called 'Jihad' because we never saw him during the day, but knew his apartment was festooned with framed Quranic verse and all he did was tinker with sketchy-looking mechanical devices and have bags of fertilizer delivered to him every other week (seriously) - got to leaving us notes. Nothing ever really came of it, but we were always sure to return the notes to him. His English needed a lot of work.
I was once living next door to some punk in a dorm-style set up on a 5-month long program. He told such hilarious stories such as that time he took his dad's rifle when he was home alone and slept gripping it all night and then woke in the morning and realized that there was a bullet in the chamber and the way he had been sleeping it was pointing at his head the whole time. Try not to shit yourself laughing. Anyway, we were at his place pre gaming with some people and he started going on about this ballistic missile he had designed that he was going to sell to the military. I asked him what made him think he was qualified to design a ballistic missile (at this point he was 18-years-old, just finished high school). He assured me that he knew what he was doing, he had been working on it with his friend since 6th grade. Me and a German buddy were mocking him at this point since it was known that he made up stories/bullshitted all the time and this was one of the worst ones yet. It escalated to us beginning to really start cracking up at him and then some switch went off in his head and he told us "You both have five seconds to go get the fuck out of my room, right now." I didn't realize that he was serious and I've always believed that if someone is really intent on getting physical with you he won't try to pull some "I'll count to five" bullshit, he'll just get physical. Well, not this time. He picked up a pocket knife and started counting down. "5...4..." I picked up a broom and told him that my broom has a lot more reach than his knife, still in jest. I look at my German friend. "3...2...1" I feel a whoosh go by my ear and hear a loud crashing sound and I turn around and see a slash in the wall right next to my head and on the counter a knife is spinning, in two pieces. I turn to him and he is looking at me with his head tilted forward and his mouth slightly open, breathing heavily. Basically, picture Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Me and the German kid ran out of the room when we realized what had happened, albeit still cracking up because we were half drunk. Later he came out and started saying how what he did was totally justified. I'm not in touch with him so I can't for sure, but I'm pretty sure that of today he still hasn't sold that missile to anyone.
There's a few I could mention. My parents' house neighbor: Spoiler My parents neighbors are batshit insane, I'm pretty sure I've posted about them before. The dad works as a musical composer for movies in LA, the mom is second chair flutist in the LA philharmonic, the daughter is an aspiring opera singer, and the son...well, he's in community college and has no idea what he's going to do with his life, it seems. When we first moved in to this house one of the quirky features we enjoyed was that all the windows were soundproofed. We were told it was because the neighbors had dogs. Yeah. Right. Turns out the whole family has occasional screaming matches at all hours of the night, and the son and even when they aren't they take to screaming out of happiness or excitement. Add to that the son's room is cozied up to mine, and he stays up at all hours with his window open screaming at the top of his lungs on Xbox Live and you've got a good idea of what we deal with. Add to that the day they decided it'd be just peachy to overhaul their driveway and replace all the concrete with slate. Nevermind the fact that they decided, without telling us, that they were going to have to tear up concrete that extended about 3 feet onto our property line and replace our shared back gate with a totally new one. When the woman from the city dropped by to take a look at the damage, the son was in his room screaming on his Xbox and she asked us "You live next to that?" Yeah, after they were forced to repave our half of the walkway the way it was originally done we never quite saw eye to eye again. Although I do take solace in the fact that my cockatoo will sometimes scream all afternoon in the yard, and they mostly just put up with it. My former landlord/neighbor: Spoiler The place was a granny flat, so I'd be living next door to my landlord, and let me preface this by saying that I went into this rental agreement knowing full well that she was crazy. When I was doing the walkthrough of the fully furnished place prior to signing anything I asked if she would be ok with me buying my own TV to put up in place of the little 22" box she provided. She said sure thing, but not to buy a flatscreen TV because the government puts chips in them that they use to perform mind control. Yeah. I told her I'd be careful. I weighed the pros and cons and decided the value of the place was high enough above the alternatives to make a kooky landlord bearable. I failed to notice the red flag that as I was signing the lease she basically went through a list of her old tenants and complained about all of them as irresponsible and crazy. To be fair, for the longest time the arrangement worked well, I paid rent on time and, aside from the occasional baseless accusation of stealing laundry detergent, I was generally left alone and maintenance needs were addressed promptly. She also stopped phoning/randomly dropping by on a daily basis after the first month and I basically didn't see her except when paying rent. And then my girlfriend moved in and shit hit the fan. I gave the landlord a month's notice and she approved the move in, so it wasn't like I sprung it on her all of a sudden, but once she moved in the landlord got paranoid. Suddenly we started getting notes. Notes on the washer and dryer, notes under the door, notes on the front door, notes everywhere. The landlord complained that we were using the washing machine too much, she told us our showers couldn't take any longer than 10 minutes, she reminded us that no one was allowed to spend the night unless we gave her 24 hours notice, she asked if we were continuing the maintenance required by the lease, she told us we weren't taking the trash out often enough, the list went on and on and suddenly we were the subject of landlord micro-management. The straw that broke the camel's back was actually an event split over two separate occasions. One day we discovered that the shower drain was regurgitating acrid black water, but the liquid was contained by the shower base. I took off work early to come home and a plumber sorted it out and told us it was a clog somewhere in the pipes, but he thought he'd fixed it. This was all fine and good, an issue that was now resolved and everyone recognized this. The problem came when a few days later the same thing happened again, except this time the flooding was so bad that the entire bathroom floor was under an inch of sewer water and the overflow spilled out into the adjacent room. We legally had to be put up in a Motel by the landlord until the place was deemed livable again. Rent was also waived for the month. The repairs took probably two months to complete, and the culprit was eventually discovered to be roots growing in the sewer main on the street, which it was the city's responsibility to fix. Despite this, however, the landlord chose to blame us for the problems, and despite the fact that we helped with the repair process and were entirely forthcoming, we recieved another note. This one was pinned to the front door one day. It basically outlined that if any further damage occurred to the property, regardless of cause, we would be personally financially responsible. We balked on this, checked the lease, noted that the lease already made us legally responsible for damage due to negligence, so we flat out refused to sign. In a month we were out of there. While we were apartment hunting, we discovered a place literally across the street was available. We checked it out and found out from the landlord there that apparently our landlord had been spreading lies across the neighborhood painting us as destructive and irresponsible destroying her house while snickering evilly to ourselves. Good riddance. My current apartment, former neighbor: Spoiler This guy was a junkie, flat out. His apartment perpetually emanated weed smoke, but besides that his mood would shift wildly depending on what he was strung out on. He'd talk about how he "used" to do meth and heroin and all manner of shit but now he was clean. Whenever he wasn't strung out on something, shouting incoherently at passers by and accusing the neighbors of conspiring against him, he'd be doing the junkie shuffle and complaining that his life sucks while casually throwing out stories of times he'd tried to kill himself. This guy was as big a drama queen, attention whore, and pity party as they come. He was regularly visited by the cops after neighbors called in. At Christmas he was depressed because he spent over $300 on a chick with a kid, but at the end of the day she just kept the presents and went back to her boyfriend. He took it upon himself to stand around outside his apartment all day and tell anyone who walked by about his story. He then went door to door to tell the people who hadn't happened to walk by. Soon afterwards he was in a car "accident" and apparently broke his neck/spine. He would alternate days wearing the body/neck braces or not. When he wasn't wearing the neck brace you could see the thick red band from his car accident, which looked suspiciously like noose markings. After the accident he got himself a prescription for some sort of variant of morphine. Fun ensued. He went to one of the longest-renting and most well-respected residents of the apartment complex, who just happens to be an aging hippie. After expressing that he was still depressed about the christmas thing, and his injury, he asked the resident for something for his pain. The resident made the junkie a batch of weed tea out of clippings, which put him straight to sleep. When the resident eventually shipped the junkie out he sold him some weed in addition to giving him a bag of the stuff he used to make the tea. Junkie proceeded, the next day, to pull a Pulp Fiction. He tried, and failed, to smoke the tea weed and make tea out of the smoking weed. He was so enraged by this, that he went straight to resident and cursed him out for selling him "bad weed" while jumping around like an idiot. He then went on a shouting rampage running from door to door and shouting at everyone in the building before eventually retiring to his room. He wound up pissing off most of the apartment complex in one day, which resulted in resident writing a letter to the landlord on behalf of the whole apartment complex and getting him evicted. On his last day at the apartment complex, junkie knocked on my door. As a method of deterrence, as I do when I don't really want to talk to whoever I happen to know is at the door, I answered the door naked. Junkie took a surprised step backwards and said something along the lines of "I'll come back later", but then proceeded to talk for 10 minutes anyway, complaining about all the neighbors and expressing sorrow that he was leaving. I eventually waved him off telling him I had things to do, and that was the last I ever saw of him. As far as I know his last laid plans were to go to northern California to meet up with this chick he thought might be interested in him, and she's really cool because she wears Victorian Era clothes and lives in a shack in the woods. Yeah. Edit: Oh yeah, and he was totally going to sue over the bad weed. His dad is apparently a DEA agent and told him that "bad weed isn't cool". Yeah. That isn't even going into my college roommates, but this post is long enough for now.