Which jibes with my theory that 99% of people are either stupid or assholes or both.
Loud stereos – or any noisy neighbor activity in general – is a huge pet peeve of mine. We just moved out of an apartment we were living in while our new house was built. The first night we lived in the apartment, the guy next door kept his stereo turned up until after midnight. This, after we’d spent the whole day moving and were exhausted.
I hate living in apartments.
We were trying to drown out the sound of your ill-behaved little children beating on our wall.
And here I was in my first floor apartment (they all had wood floors and not great sound insulation), putting the morning news on near-mute with captions just in case the person upstairs was still sleeping or being afraid to run my blender to make my breakfast smoothie at 7am.
It really does seem to be a lack of awareness of others. My upstairs neighbor from hell (above said first floor apartment) was a stomp walker, passed out drunk in his bathroom with his stereo blasting so loud that you could clearly hear the lyrics… at 4am :(. One time, he had his dog (that he didn’t have the required apartment permit for) play fetch with him at freaking 1 in the morning. I couldn’t sleep, hearing a ball bouncing and then skitter-skitter-skitter-THUMP-WHUMP-JUMP-skitter-skitter-skitter.
I went upstairs and knocked on his door, and said, “I know you didn’t know ( :: cough :: ), but I can hear you playing fetch with your dog and it’s really loud.”
He just stared at me for, no lie, almost 10 seconds, then said, “oh. Yeah, the dog’s got a lot of energy.”
As I think, “gee, maybe that’s because you never take him for walks and you don’t even take him to the ground to go to the bathroom and you just let him out on your fucking balcony so his goddamn piss rains down ONTO MY GODDAMNED PATIO”, I manage to say, “well, I have to work in the morning… it’s Wednesday night.”
He just stares at me, seriously looking like, “well why are you talking to me? What am I supposed to do?” He finally manages, “oh… sorry”.
I go back down and it takes him another ten minutes to stop playing fetch. Maybe it took that long for him to decipher our cryptic conversation.
Have you asked your landlord to come over and smell your deck? Hell, that sort of thing should get that guy evicted.
Years ago I had the people underneath me incorrectly retaliating against the noise they believed came from my apartment (it was my neighbor’s stereo against our mutual wall) by throwing little perfume bombs on my deck to try to stink me out. Our landlord didn’t believe a word of it until I called her over for a completely unrelated issue and then asked her to step out on my deck. About three seconds later she was a believer.
Big mess with a lot more to it than that. I moved to a different unit in the complex voluntarily, neighbors on the other side and below me moved involuntarily, and in the end, the apartment manager was fired.
It’ll get you evicted if you fail to enunciate.
You sir, are made of win.
Oh, I’m not there anymore, but yes, he was evicted. I literally did a grooving happy dance in my cubicle at work when I got the phone call. 
I had pictures of the dark yellow dog piss splattered all over my patio, a police report on him when they had to come over for the passed-out-drunk-with-music-blasting, and a couple other complaints. At first I worried that I was being overly sensitive, but the guy who replaced him was great and I didn’t even hear him walking around. So I felt better knowing guy 1 really was an asshole.
And so, basically your deck smelled like a Turkish bathhouse?
Golf clap. Hell, whole apartment complex-worth of golf claps. Bravo.