There is a young couple that live in the condo next to ours. They seem pleasant, though not all that classy.

They have two dogs, one of which is a Pomeranian. Frankly, I think that's a breed that should be extinct. I've never seen an animal that just barks to hear itself bark. Fortunately, it virtually never barks in its house, so it doesn't bother us, but there's never any question when they are taking it out.

Which leads us to our next clue that they are trash. What kind of person doesn't clean up after their dogs? It's one thing if you live in a standalone home where your backyard only affects you, but this is a condo community. Nobody wants to see that pile laying next to the sidewalk.

Jen isn't shy — she's asked them a few times if they need dog bags. They usually make some excuse like the dog is just peeing. Yeah, like you would have brought a bag, but your dog said it didn't have to poop. Come on.

They had a friend over this past weekend and she apparently smokes. As evidenced by all the cigarette butts out in the breezeway.

Very classy.

You don't realize what a difference ceiling fans make until you have to sleep in a bedroom that doesn't have them.

Got to the tax collector around 8:45... the conversation went something like this:

So, I went to the ATM across the street and took out cash to pay for my tag. That has to be the most retarded policy I've ever heard of.

Then I went to Starbucks and paid $3.80 for half a mocha. Then I went back to Starbucks and traded it for a full mocha.

I hope this is not indicative of how the rest of my day is going to be.