Raindrops keeping falling

We have hippie neighbors. They live upstairs in the split family home. It's us and them. We live downstairs. Most everything our hippie neighbors do makes some kind of hippie-sense. Like saving every plastic container ever given to them. Taking EVERYTHING to the thrift store, or hoarding it in their house where they'll sell the parts or give them away on freecycle.com. Eating everything grown in their own garden, including the flowers of the plants which they are not sure, but they THINK is a hybrid of broccoli and celery. Or was it scallions? At any rate, all of this is fairly normal in the hippie way of life.

And it makes sense. And I get it. I'm even a little envious that I am too attached to my materialistic-comforts-of-home lifestyle to eat from my own garden. (I did try the mystery flower, though. It tasted kinda like broccoli.)

It gets to be too much for me, their neighbor, to handle at this point - I'm in the bathroom on the toilet...and I feel raindrops. Oh wait. No, that's not raindrops. That's foul coffee-colored liquid dripping from my ceiling. The drips continue for weeks. We call the landlord. He regrouts their tub. The drips start again, this time accompanied by nice huge swells in the ceiling. Just threatening to pour down on me like a looming Florida storm cloud. I call the landlord. He calls the neighbors.

This is key.

While a puss-like bulge is growing in my ceiling, the neighbors are "taking a shower," they tell Matt, the landlord, "without closing the shower curtain."

What?! Who DOES that? There is a point to the shower curtain, right? I mean, who wants to take a shower and then step out into a bath? How much mold and filth must there be on their bathroom floor and walls? I'm astounded.

Automatically, I try to equate this to hippie logic. There is none. There is no reason to subject your own floor and your neighbor's ceiling to a diluge of coffee, mildew, sewage baths. The picture you see above is about 8 hours before the bubble gave out and my nice, clean bathroom was washed in rust water. Or, at least, as I tried to salvage my bathroom, I was washed in rust water.

And then Andy came back from vacation.