Dear Boomy McBoom Pants,
It's been a couple weeks now since you moved in. I saw you outside the other day and you said, "Happy Easter" to me and Mr. Huzzabus. I thought that was really nice and friendly of you. You seem like a nice person. I don't think you have yet made the connection of who I am.
So what happens to you after 10:30 pm at night that makes you think turning up your, probably rockin' awesome, stereo system is okay? You do realize our bedroom is on the other side of your paper-thin wall, don't you? Also, you do realize that when I pound with all of my might and gumption on said wall that it means you should turn your radio down or preferably off, don't you?
We've been through this charade before my Easter-loving friend. So what makes you think turning it up even louder after I pound on the wall is going to solve anything? You really think this makes you look macho? Like you have all the power in this neighborly relationship? THAT is where you are mistaken buddy.
I am keeping notes of all the times you choose to act like an ignorant fool! I will turn in this information as proof and this, in turn, will cause the apartment manager to tell me they will come talk to you about turning your radio off after 9:00 pm. They probably won't really talk to you though cause we live in the ghetto and they are just as scared as I am. But telling on you will feel so right.
You're just lucky I am not a neurosurgeon who will be doing surgery tomorrow on your mother (not that I wouldn't try to do the best I can, just that I would have had no sleep cause of your booms) and that I am a scared, non-confrontational peacemaker. In a perfect world I would come over and knock on your door. When you opened it, I would calmly walk into your living area and remove your radio gently, but forcefully, out the window without suffering any consequences.
Yours Truly,
Edith Annith
P.S. I have always wanted to call someone an "ignortant fool" so thanks.
3 comments:
Your neighbor sounds like the neighbor we had in our first apartment. We called the cops and he moved away after a couple of weeks. But then again, it really wasn't the ghetto either...."in the ghetto."
I love drying flowers. I have made a wedding wreath for each one of my sister's. I also have one hanging over my bed of all the flowers I got from dates in highschool. Fun stuff.
For some reason I am afraid to call the cops... haha. Maybe someday I will lose it and give 'em a call. It will all be part of the past in 7 or 8 months.
That is great about your dried flower wreathing abilities. I am not suprised one bit.
Hahaha! Awesome letter. Boomy McBoom Pants. Heehee.
Post a Comment