Open letter to the neighbor Gods

My upstairs neighbors just love to grill out!

Dear Powers of the Universe Who Keep Sticking Me
With Shitty and Uncool Neighbors,

Knock it off already, will ya?!! LOL
I could write a novel about the neighbors I had the joy of living next door to for 8 years in Mineral Point. The ones who rode their souped-up golf carts through the yard, around and around the house, belching noxious black smoke out of their exhaust pipe; the one who was weird but OK for a few years until he lost his marbles and kept accusing me of lying and doing things I was not even doing; the creepy one who snored so loud it sounded like a jet engine and I could hear it through the wall, across the landing and all the way in my bedroom; and the ones who hooked their Halloween decorations up to my electricity with a super-long extension cord. :-(

When I moved here I had such high hopes. I thought, wow, maybe I'll finally get some cool neighbors who I actually want to hang out with. But oh nooooooo! Instead I get the northwoods version of some messed up hillbilly hawgs. They don't seem to know how to close a door properly, they romp and stomp up there and drop what sounds like bowling balls right over my bed when I am trying to sleep. Their decrepit washing machine in the basement is so noisy when they are running it (which seems to be almost every day) that it makes the press at work seem soothing by comparison.

But it's the garage that is really starting to piss me off. It's a two-car garage and we share it. Their side looks like a candidate for redneck garage of the week. Junk, old tires, ruined furniture, bags of cans and crap everywhere. The son, Stompy Jr., decided he could fix their shitty vehicles in there and he's got oil and Lord knows what else slopped all over the floor on their side. It stank out there for months until it got cold enough to kill the smell .... somewhat. I call it the hog wallow!

For awhile they were trying to put some of their shit on my side of the garage because, of course, there's plenty of room on my side because I'm not a pig. Or at least, not as much of a pig as they are! I would just move the offending item back over to their side each time. Finally, I threw this one dining room chair that they seemed to want me to have right out in the middle of their side so when they went to pull the car in they would have to get out to move it. They got the message. I was tempted to draw a white chalk line down the middle of the floor, kinda like the Munsters when Herman and Grandpa were fighting and they divided up the house into two halves.
So I just got home a few minutes ago and was bringing groceries in from the car. I noticed a take-out container sitting on top of their vehicle, right where it had been when I left for work 10 hours ago. I foolishly peeked inside and recoiled in horror when I spied what looked like a slice of pizza covered with cat fur. WTF?!! Why in the hell would they just leave it there? Tomorrow is garbage day, for crying out loud! I shudder to think what their apartment must look like. I swear to Christ, if I see one cockroach, I am going postal on their sorry slobbo asses!!