Thimon!
I lived on the fifth floor of an L-shaped building in the apartment in the corner of the long arm of the L. Simon (Thimon!) lived on the short arm two doors down, and all the apartments shared an open 8-foot-wide breezeway as all the apartments opened to the outside. Thimon was an extravagantly limp-wristed, swishy gay man who wore nothing but ultra-short running shorts (either fluorescent pink or green) and spoke with an affected lithp.

Thimon was fond of sitting outside on the breezeway, trimming his toenails and rubbing a pumice-stone on his calluses for hours every day.

Thimon would have screaming fits about my cat staring at him through the window and slam his door yelling about how "that fawking cat is thtaring at me again! Oh, my GAWD!!!" He would also start screaming and slamming his doors whenever his precious potted plants wilted or shed leaves, claiming it was my (entirely) indoor cat's fault.

Thimon also enjoyed yelling at the top of his lungs while vacuuming his carpet at 4 in the morning. Every morning.

I hear they had trouble evicting him - he's apparently a complete batsh*t loonball who gets government benefits and can't work. And the previous manager rented to him by mistake - the building's owner does not accept Section 8 housing vouchers.
(mazo, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 0:31, Reply)