Life in the Middle Ages was certainly not a walk in the park. It was more like a slow crawl through the shit-covered streets, gasping for air either from the smell or the plague, covered in fleas that sprung from the rats and your neighbor’s head—then dying from all of it.

But amid the endless trials, tribulations, beheadings, and hangings, some acts were simply beyond the pale. Behaviors so unpleasant and vial that it would prompt anyone in the modern age to say something absolute about the matter, such as, “That’s fucking annoying.” Behold the habits of the worst medieval neighbors:

Complaining about peasantry

“I’m starving,” “I’m working myself to death,” “I’m a slave.” Yeah, so are we all, brother. Do you think our King got to where he was sitting on his ass? No. Work harder.

Not emptying the chamber pot.

When mead drunk in the early morning, smelling someone’s ripe ass logs is sure to put a damper on the start of your day, of which you’ll spend the rest of it thinking about how it smelt precisely like KFC with no idea what that even means.

Shitting in the streets

Lower than the animals not changing the chamber pots are the absolute demons that ravage the streets every night, leaving their massive worm-riddled shits right on your porch. Cloth shoes never stood a chance.

Dying of the plague

Pathetic, honestly. But those doing so require more attention than weak white men in a brothel. “Please, help me. I’m sick.” Fuck off and die in silence like our ancestors, you’re embarrassing yourself.

Rotting on your doorstep

Then they go and dare to die right there at your doorstep with no one who cares about them enough to come collect their rotting carcass. It was as if dying from the plague wasn’t enough; now, everyone knows nobody loved you.

Getting their blood on your porch

Whether from exploding of rot or losing their head, there is no shortage of opportunities to catch a blood-born pathogen from one of your loser neighbors. We get it; you asked your lord for a raise, and now your head is in a basket, and you’re losing all the blood in your body. Don’t make such a fucking mess about it.

Screwing outside your window at 6 a.m.

Though the nuisance is easy to understand, the hardest part is grappling with the disgust of them humping the body of your porch and the anger that they didn’t invite you. 

Letting the demons into their blood

There’s no easier way to let everyone know you’re the messiest bitch on the block. We knew everybody was allowed in. But demons in your blood, sweetie, really? Get a fucking hold of yourself.