Balcony Relief

Why is it… In every building I’ve ever lived… Is there that one asshole who is a chain smoker. And lives above ME. Do I have “hey Nasty smoker, move in above me” stamped on my forehead or something?! Ugh. And by the way, who freaking smokes for two hours straight? A grumpy hunchback bastard, that’s who. And just curious… Isn’t smoke supposed to rise? Nope. Not if you live above, I suppose. Criminy. I hid under blankets. Couldn’t escape the smell. I hid in my room. Seemed stronger there. By night’s end, I felt like I’d been in a forest fire. Inhaling so much of that crap that my allergies kicked up and I couldn’t breathe. It was probably killing me from the inside out. Omg. I almost died. I think my neighbor is trying to kill me. I knew he was up to something. I will foil his plans. He won’t get away with it. Everytime he smokes Im going to throw a bucket of water from my balcony onto his balcony. How Im going to do this without all the water getting on me… I haven’t a clue. Picture this: Maybe if I swoop down, and around in a half moon shape up towards his general direction…. Like in a scooping motion? Hmmmm. This might be tricky. Trick-Or-Treat. I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, be kind, smokers. Cough. Cough. There are others around you that aren’t looking for emphysema. 

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