...To move out of this suburban apartment complex that I dumbly signed a 2 year lease for. Had I known that I would be living next to YOU, madam, I would have moved elsewhere. You get meals on wheels but don't need it. You have 2 fake service dogs. TWO. You fake multiple disabilities, and I'm pretty sure if you had leukemia/epilepsy/a broken back/that egg sized brain tumor you claimed that you'd be fucking dead by now. But here we are, two whole years later!
I tried talking to you. I tried complaining to our creepy Mormon lady apartment manager. But I put my 30 days in and am about to blitz your ass with complaints. All the shit you get away with that I've spoken to you about countless times?
I will report every. single. time. you smoke on your patio, let your dog shit in my yard, make a peep after 10pm, let your meth head ex park in my spot that I pay for...literally everything. I never thought welfare queens actually existed before I lived next to you. But you're trash, your kid smells, and I honestly should call CPS but foster care could somehow be worse. Fuck you, you trashy rag.