I hate my upstairs neighbors. They are chuweros in the purest sense of the word, as defined by definition 1.
it is now 2:17 in the A fuckin' M! i have no clue what these people do, but i can guarantee one thing they don't do: corral their little shit goblin children on the weekends. it sounds like kid fight club upstairs, and this is not a rare occasion. i went to bed about an hour and a half ago, and this nonsense was going on then, and it's still going on. i'll be almost asleep, i can feel my sleep cycle 2 spinning up, and my conscious mind spinning down, then WHAM, it sounds like a someone has dropped cinder on a wood floor, but our floors are CARPETED! WHAT MAKES THAT NOISE! IF THE KIDS ARE BEATING THE HELL OUT OF EACHOTHER, THEY NEED TO BEAT HARDER!
i want them all to get terrible debilitating syphilis. the kind people used to get in the 1800s, not that friendly glamour syphilis we have now.
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2 comments:
Is there any sort of management type person you can complain to? ecause you might want to do that, maybe, if it would do any good. (In some places, as I understand, it does, but I am also aware that in others, well. Yeah.)
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