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I knew a gay dude who used to believe he was a witch, too. But he wasn't little, he wasn't queeny, and he wasn't a neighbor. I tolerated his massive collection of pagan paraphernalia and massive tomes with big pentagrams on their covers because he was an outstanding dick-sucker. Alas, he moved to Tampa.

My actual neighbors are mostly dull now. The crazies seemed to have moved away, leaving me alone with own insanity, which is kind of nice.

No one has lived upstairs since December, so I can be loud during sex and watch movies at high volume. Previously occupied by a crazy lady who also would converse for an hour and a half at each casual meeting.

Across from me is some dude and some chick. Very generic in every respect. He gets home from work at 2:00 AM every night, though, making Maggie bark when he slams the door. Sometimes he leaves his garbage bag in the hallway until he dumps it in the morning, which pisses me off. I am going to start stealing his garbage in hopes that it freaks him out.

Behind me is the only real nutjob left. He's this Asian dude who wears latex gloves and a paper face mask at all times. He comes home from work like that, and I see him inside wearing these things as well. He has a giant statue of a giraffe on his kitchen counter, about three feet tall. It's horrid. He never, ever closes his blinds, never makes his bed, and cooks on a propane camp stove on his patio. He has a regular stove inside, so I don't get this at all. He flinches when he sees Maggie, as if she's going to tear him limb from limb. He plays opera at high volume at around 3 or 4 AM most weeknights, but I just counter that with my own noise, so I don't mind.

Bland lesbians across the way. Nothing special about them.

A creepy gay male couple who feel it necessary to kiss in the parking lot.

A dullard chick who paces the parking lot and talks on her cell phone for up to three hours at a time. I wish it would rain more often when she does that.