Our neighbours are mostly young families, and some retired couples. But one new-this-winter neighbour two doors down from us (connected to our building) drives me BATTY. He's in his twenties, single, has two roomates and a live in girlfriend, grows pot in his crawlspace, and has parties every weekend. Girls leave their townhouse doing the walk of shame every Saturday and Sunday morning. The music is loud. They don't fit with the rest of the neighbourhood. But the absolute worst thing? WORST THING? They SMOKE. Their friends SMOKE. Their parties are full of bloody SMOKERS. They smoke cigarettes, cigars, and pot. The most frequent thing they smoke is pot. This IS B.C. after all, I guess. But FUCK! I hate pot. I HATE IT. I hate its existence, I hate its smell, I hate the complacent, pot-is-harmless, pot-is-funny, pot-does-no-harm attitude of almost every resident of this province. I hate it the most when thick clouds of pot smoke fill my children's bedroom at night, for hours on end, when it's too hot to keep the windows closed.