I am hacked off and exhausted to the point of numbness.
I arrived at my flat at 22:00 last night to discover that my f*&king half-wit, inbred neighbour (the same one who drilled at 7:20 the other morning) was having some sort of dinner party on her balcony, complete with music and loud talking and shrieking. It ended at midnight. In that time I physically went down to the guard’s hut and asked him to intervene. After no audible change in the decibel level, I then called the guard on my intercom to ask him to tell them to shut up. G-d knows if he did anything as they clearly only shut up when they passed out from their Klippies, the frigging classless bastards!
So today I asked a guard on the next shift if he had the rules for the complex. Blank look. Blithering. Me saying “nevermind” and driving off.
I have now emailed the guy who collects my levy to ask if he has the body corporate rules or sectional title rules.
To say that I am severely f*&ked off, would like to rip off the worthless parasite’s arm and beat her to death with the sticky end, and that I would like to sell the f*&king flat and move to a remote caribbean island, would be an understatement.
But since I can’t do that today, I’m at work. Seething. And plotting. Any ideas for revenge will be MOST welcome, though I hope they’ll be far more damaging than my idea of lobbing year-old bottles of fishpaste, which have been left in the sun for a few days, from my kitchen window onto her balcony.