Feel the bass.

21 Oct

Our neighbors directly to the right have developed a new hobby of blasting Mega Bass 500 for hours on end until the wee hours of the morning lately. The loud, invasive BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, VRRRRRRMMMMMM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM reverberates through our bedroom wall, preventing me from getting any sleep at all. Last night was the worst. Last night was Monday. It was also Columbus Day. Who celebrates for a day like that? Tell me. Have they no consideration for people who have lives, jobs, pets, and kids? Kidding about the kids. I don’t care for them. But I NEED SLEEP! Uninterrupted, soothing, blissful sleep.

My other neighbor to the left is too nice. They keep inviting us to play Rock Band with them every time they see us. “Hey! We’re having a Rock Band party tonight at 7….You guys want to come?”

“…Oh…Uh…we’re—we’re really busy. I appreciate the invite though,” I stammer.

“Are you sure? We’re making smoothieeees!” she sings.

“Yeah…I mean, we work like literally 13 hours a day, so when we get home, it’s like—straight into hibernation for us,” I retort. Of course that’s a lie though. If she pays attention to anything around her at all, she would know that Power Bass 6000 keeps me and everyone else within a half-mile radius awake until 3 in the morning.

I keep trying to avoid her now so that I don’t have to make up more excuses as to why I don’t want to hang out with her, her boyfriend, her illegitimate toddler, and her two cats. It’s pretty hard. My mailbox is RIGHT next to her large glass sliding door in her living room. She can see me every time I get the mail. Our front doors are 12 inches apart. We cross paths when I’m bringing in groceries. The grass where my dog piddles is in front of her porch. I find myself speed-walking with my eyes glued to the ground, pretending to be distracted to avoid the always-open invitation. It’s getting awkward.

Oh well. Only one more week.

My puppy’s teeth are like tiny little razor blades. I’m pissed. Playing tug of war with him is like having a thumb war with a Gillette Mach 3. I’m starting to get angry at his sharp canines. He keeps slicing me. I’m going to beat his ass. I have read that squealing “OUCH!” when your puppy teethes on you too hard is supposed to teach them how hard is too hard. It’s not working. I’m going to bust out the brass knuckles and teach him a lesson or two if he doesn’t quit it.

Kidding. I don’t own brass knuckles.

I bet I could order some on Amazon though.


B: “I peed in a lady’s back yard today. No one was the wiser.”

N: “If nothing else, I like you for that.”


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