You are either moving out, moving in, or a landlord cleaning up.
But when you park your freaking van behind my bedroom window with all the doors open with music blaring out I am tempted to use my recently used BBQ coals to satisfy my contempt.
I hope they’re moving out. The cactus humping douchefuckingbagassholes.
Shh! They have left.
Don’t tempt them to come back.
