The other night Ricky and I were outside talking to our neighbors (the ones right next to us). And all of a sudden we hear this big splash behind us. Our new upstairs neighbors, who I affectionately call "Smokey McSmokerson") dumped his cooler, garbage water, or something down through the slats of his balcony...directly onto our porch. He made no effort to try to dump it over the side into the bushes. Now, normally, when we're outside talking to our neighbors, Ricky and I are standing on our porch and they are standing on theirs. This time, however, we were all on their porch, which turned out to be quite lucky! The guy didn't even look! Ugh, I hate them already, and they haven't even been living there for a month yet!
The day "Smokey McSmokerson" moved in our entire apartment smelled like cigarette smoke. It was so bad in our kitchen that I couldn't go in there for more than five seconds without getting a horriffic headache. The maintenance man came by and sealed up some holes under our cabinet then went upstairs and did the same to their apartment. It smells a whole lot better, until we run the dryer, then we can smell it again. I've told the maintenance men, but they haven't come by to fix it again.