Flatmate David: Have you heard the super loud music from the upstairs neighbors?
A-L: No. It might be my snoring that you're hearing.
F.D.: No, it's definitely melodic. But waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too loud, and waaaaaay too late.
A-L: Oh, actually I have. I forgot that I wrote a poem to the upstairs neighbor.
F.D.: Wow, and right on cue, he's turned it up again.
A-L: What song is that? Sounds like the Jackson Five.
F.D.: Not sure. I could Shazam it.
A-L: That's when you know the music upstairs is too loud.
F.D.: They just don't understand the concept of THIN WALLS + LOUD MUSIC + DIFFERENT WORK SCHEDULES = UNHAPPY DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBORS.
A-L: I think passive aggressive is the way to go here.
F.D.: Good idea. When I leave the house at 6 am, I'll leave really bad music on loop. Can I borrow your Phil Collins CD?
A-L: Which one? I mean, I don't own any Phil Collins. Honestly. I was thinking George Michael. But maybe that's so bad it's good.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
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3 comments:
I vote for Black Velvet by Alannah Miles. or anything by Mariah Carey.
A-L you know what you really need to do is buy some bagpipes. The fact that you won't be able to play them will make the revenge even sweeter. And it will remind you of bad bagpipes in Edinburgh.
PS I miss you. So does Scotland.
"When a DJ Lives Upstairs" sounds like the title of an illustrated children's book that deals with a sensitive issue like divorce, gay parents or an older sibling with a needle-drug problem. Long story short: I will write the DJ book. Can I get an advance?
Also, the blogger word verification characters I had to enter to comment on this post spelled out "retati." Which I think is the Latin plural form of "Corky."
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