Dear guy downstairs, namely flat one.
Hello, how're you doing? It's me Dan. Hope all is well.
I assume all indeed is well, hell I'm going to assume everything is so well that you'd let to know the entire house, nay.....Entire street know that you're well. This is something I can appreciate, life is something to be cherished and appreciated, right? So why not grab life by the balls, crack open a beer with your best buds and ex wife and blare out some tunes.
I'm one of the lucky ones, I, presumably am in the same boat as you I don't have work tomorrow so an early night isn't on the cards. I'm free to make any choice with the events of my night, I decided on a simple night of Animal Crossing and reviving my blog if you're interested.
However in an unforeseen set of events my 2am bedtime was put in turmoil when I could hear and literally feel the bass levels of whatever that is you call music.
Guy downstairs, this is going to seem bold so I apologise in advance, in fact it may even seem downright audacious! But could you perhaps one day sit down and think to yourself "Hmm, I have a day off soon, but that doesn't mean everybody else has one".
Maybe you're not aware that playing Shaggy til four in the morning is borderline mental breakdown material, evidently awareness isn't a trait you hold.
Pumping bass, shouting the songs chorus incoherently during the verses, and screeching "TUNNNNNNNE" every five seconds with your literal three person party might be considered cool for a man in his mid thirties, maybe I'm just getting more mature than my time? Maybe it's the fact that it's now four in the morning and I still have to endure your crazy ex wives singing, but you'd understand if I'm relatively on edge.
I'm struggling right now to put my thoughts into words, I'm pretty irritable right now, and I'm trying to summarise you into a simple word.
Inconsiderate would be a good start, as would moronic and idiotic. But right now the only word that rings up in my mind is 'cunt'. Maybe that's because you've shouted that at your ex wife at least twice every weekly party you decide to throw for your two friends (The ex being one of them).
Which brings me to my next qualm.
It's more than understandable that you probably lack friends, whilst you're loud enough to host a twenty person party you only seem to have a maximum of four people over. The same people week in, week out. Your fat, skinhead friend who I believe is the main culprit of the "TUNNNNNNNE!" fiasco, a screechy yet somehow overwhelmingly boring woman (How on earth someone can loudly screech about their love for chilling out is beyond me) and your ex wife.
Why, why, WHY! do you think that's a good idea? I can appreciate staying friends with your old loves to a relative degree. I can understand staying on the same page after whatever reason it was for your break up, but if a stranger how lives above you already has more than enough reasons that you shouldn't hang out, then that might start to wager a little red flag.
Are you familiar with the pretty infamous internet rule "Don't stick your dick in crazy"? I'm afraid you're in breach of it, don't worry it happens to the best of us. But you seem to be a repeat offender, in fact after living above you for about five months I've taken the liberty of writing you up ladder of events.
7-9pm: Ex wife, screech and BMI guy come to your house, you start things off nicely, the bass is there but not really annoying anybody. Party on.
9-12am: As the Special brews start to flow, the bass starts to increase, the noise picks up and you all start ot believe you're part of a four piece band. I've also taken the liberty of naming your band for you. Team Cuntcluster.
12-2am: For some reason at this point you appear to enter a paradox of sorts, instead of pressing the next button on a song, you repeat it the very instant it gets halfway through, not towards the end, I'm still trying to get my head around this. Todays constant repetition of Shaggy was a prime example.
2-4am: Ahhhh here we go, the crazy ex wife lives up to her name and goes fuckwit insane. Loudly screaming, rambling and screeching (which causes her/your friend to also screech in retaliation) and break things. HER OWN FUCKING LEG BEING ONE OF THOSE THINGS.
Seriously guy downstairs, if you're in the company of a woman who doesn't possess the common sense to not break her own fucking bones in rampaging around desperately looking for attention, then reevaluate your company. I have literally hung out with the most punchable pieces of shit I can imagine and still taken better company than her.
How many times does the police have to intervene before you think to yourself "Yep.....She truly is batshit insane, maybe I won't invite her to my next Shaggyathon".
Also, tell the fat skinhead pal of yours to at least learn the lyrics to "All you need is love". Listening to those five words constantly in a tone deaf manner on repeat for forty five minutes could very well be the reason crazy ex loses her shit on a weekly basis.
One thing you will probably learn sooner rather than later, guy downstairs. I can be petty as fuck. I will be petty as fuck.
In addition to petty I can also be pretty fucking passive aggressive. Hence this extraordinarily long unsent letter to merely vent as opposed to coming down stairs and actually tell you the shut the fuck up. But that's not the way I roll. I suppose we shall see where this brings us. I can (And will) wake up at nine tomorrow morning. And guess what? I can blast music too. I can also use the repeat button on my docking station! So expect a barrage of repeated Crystal Castles tomorrow morning. Most of the lyrics are, like your ex wife, incoherent so I think you might be appreciative of my musical taste at the very least.
I've also taken the liberty of leaving an Orange outside your door. I have no idea why, and neither will you. Consider that, for now my petty revenge.
See you tomorrow morning, Cunt.
Dan x
Hello, how're you doing? It's me Dan. Hope all is well.
I assume all indeed is well, hell I'm going to assume everything is so well that you'd let to know the entire house, nay.....Entire street know that you're well. This is something I can appreciate, life is something to be cherished and appreciated, right? So why not grab life by the balls, crack open a beer with your best buds and ex wife and blare out some tunes.
I'm one of the lucky ones, I, presumably am in the same boat as you I don't have work tomorrow so an early night isn't on the cards. I'm free to make any choice with the events of my night, I decided on a simple night of Animal Crossing and reviving my blog if you're interested.
However in an unforeseen set of events my 2am bedtime was put in turmoil when I could hear and literally feel the bass levels of whatever that is you call music.
Guy downstairs, this is going to seem bold so I apologise in advance, in fact it may even seem downright audacious! But could you perhaps one day sit down and think to yourself "Hmm, I have a day off soon, but that doesn't mean everybody else has one".
Maybe you're not aware that playing Shaggy til four in the morning is borderline mental breakdown material, evidently awareness isn't a trait you hold.
Pumping bass, shouting the songs chorus incoherently during the verses, and screeching "TUNNNNNNNE" every five seconds with your literal three person party might be considered cool for a man in his mid thirties, maybe I'm just getting more mature than my time? Maybe it's the fact that it's now four in the morning and I still have to endure your crazy ex wives singing, but you'd understand if I'm relatively on edge.
I'm struggling right now to put my thoughts into words, I'm pretty irritable right now, and I'm trying to summarise you into a simple word.
Inconsiderate would be a good start, as would moronic and idiotic. But right now the only word that rings up in my mind is 'cunt'. Maybe that's because you've shouted that at your ex wife at least twice every weekly party you decide to throw for your two friends (The ex being one of them).
Which brings me to my next qualm.
It's more than understandable that you probably lack friends, whilst you're loud enough to host a twenty person party you only seem to have a maximum of four people over. The same people week in, week out. Your fat, skinhead friend who I believe is the main culprit of the "TUNNNNNNNE!" fiasco, a screechy yet somehow overwhelmingly boring woman (How on earth someone can loudly screech about their love for chilling out is beyond me) and your ex wife.
Why, why, WHY! do you think that's a good idea? I can appreciate staying friends with your old loves to a relative degree. I can understand staying on the same page after whatever reason it was for your break up, but if a stranger how lives above you already has more than enough reasons that you shouldn't hang out, then that might start to wager a little red flag.
Are you familiar with the pretty infamous internet rule "Don't stick your dick in crazy"? I'm afraid you're in breach of it, don't worry it happens to the best of us. But you seem to be a repeat offender, in fact after living above you for about five months I've taken the liberty of writing you up ladder of events.
7-9pm: Ex wife, screech and BMI guy come to your house, you start things off nicely, the bass is there but not really annoying anybody. Party on.
9-12am: As the Special brews start to flow, the bass starts to increase, the noise picks up and you all start ot believe you're part of a four piece band. I've also taken the liberty of naming your band for you. Team Cuntcluster.
12-2am: For some reason at this point you appear to enter a paradox of sorts, instead of pressing the next button on a song, you repeat it the very instant it gets halfway through, not towards the end, I'm still trying to get my head around this. Todays constant repetition of Shaggy was a prime example.
2-4am: Ahhhh here we go, the crazy ex wife lives up to her name and goes fuckwit insane. Loudly screaming, rambling and screeching (which causes her/your friend to also screech in retaliation) and break things. HER OWN FUCKING LEG BEING ONE OF THOSE THINGS.
Seriously guy downstairs, if you're in the company of a woman who doesn't possess the common sense to not break her own fucking bones in rampaging around desperately looking for attention, then reevaluate your company. I have literally hung out with the most punchable pieces of shit I can imagine and still taken better company than her.
How many times does the police have to intervene before you think to yourself "Yep.....She truly is batshit insane, maybe I won't invite her to my next Shaggyathon".
Also, tell the fat skinhead pal of yours to at least learn the lyrics to "All you need is love". Listening to those five words constantly in a tone deaf manner on repeat for forty five minutes could very well be the reason crazy ex loses her shit on a weekly basis.
One thing you will probably learn sooner rather than later, guy downstairs. I can be petty as fuck. I will be petty as fuck.
In addition to petty I can also be pretty fucking passive aggressive. Hence this extraordinarily long unsent letter to merely vent as opposed to coming down stairs and actually tell you the shut the fuck up. But that's not the way I roll. I suppose we shall see where this brings us. I can (And will) wake up at nine tomorrow morning. And guess what? I can blast music too. I can also use the repeat button on my docking station! So expect a barrage of repeated Crystal Castles tomorrow morning. Most of the lyrics are, like your ex wife, incoherent so I think you might be appreciative of my musical taste at the very least.
I've also taken the liberty of leaving an Orange outside your door. I have no idea why, and neither will you. Consider that, for now my petty revenge.
See you tomorrow morning, Cunt.
Dan x