Monday, November 08, 2004

Howdy Neighbor

Dear Next Door Neighbor,

Hello! I'm sorry to interrupt your insistent white trashiness dinner, but I wanted to let you know a couple of things that have been making me fantasize every minute on the minute about killing you bothering me just a tiny bit.

First of all, the bass. I can tell that you believe that you are a very talented bass player. And while I think it's important to believe in yourself, in your case I believe it to be totally unwarranted. So, because I know it's important to you, I'm going to allow you to keep you bass, but with one caveat. The next time my wall starts to shake I'm going to come over there and strangle you with a bass string. It'll hurt me more than it hurts you. Seriously. But I'm willing to sacrifice for the preservation of my sanity the good of humanity.

Secondly, what is that smell? Sweet baby jesus it's awful. Every time I leave my apartment my eyes water and my skin crawls and my stomach roils, but my god, you're living in it! Further, I can only assume that it's coming from something you are cooking to eat. What possible animal could you be cooking to make that smell? Last I heard there was no such thing as a rack of ass. Are you marinating your food in vomit? For your own sake, I urge you to think about only eating things that can be bought in a grocery store. In America.

The third and final thing I'd like to address is the constant thumping against the wall. Day and night. Night and day. Has your apartment been infested with Gremlins? Leprechauns? Sex-slave midgets? Is it cats? Do you have one of those refrigerator magnets that says "If I want to hear the pitter patter of little feet I'll put shoes on my cat"? Did you put shoes on your cat? Are they tap shoes? It's so annoying. More annoying than when my mom went through that phase where she played that Travis Tritt song "T-R-O-U-B-L-E" EVERY SINGLE DAY for an ENTIRE summer to wake me up. Because she thought it was funny. And believe me, the only thing that saved her life was the fact that she gave birth to me. That's not gonna work for you. I suggest you move away before I snap cut it out while you still can.

I'm glad that we are able to talk about this like civilized people. Well, technically I'm writing this and judging by the looks of you, you'll be unable to read it, but hey, I feel better. And you've been warned. Not that I'm threatening. But I am.

In conclusion, knock it off. Or else.

Have a nice day. Best of luck living through the night in your future endeavors.

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