August 30th, 2002

pencil

24-hour party neighbors

It's not the 24-hour bass line vibrating my walls that really drives me nuts. It's that it is the same bass line, overandoverandover... I don't know the songs, but boy do I know those bass lines.

There is an elevator between our apartments. I don't know if that makes things better or worse. I never hear elevator noise, though.

These are the people who couldn't hear me knocking on their door to turn down the music, yes. I hate being the cranky neighbor yelling about "you kids, turn the music down!" if only because it makes me feel older than dirt...

Maybe if I bought them a one-way ticket to Manchester? Maybe if I rigged up a Dune-style 'thumper' and strapped it to my side of our adjoining speaker-wall to set up a counterpoint - for best effect I'd have to attach some kind of randomizer, wouldn't want it to sound like a regular beat, now...

thumpthumpTHUMPthumpthump thumpthumpTHUMPthumpthump THUMPTHUMPTHUMPthumpthump

There are good reasons why I don't own firearms. I would be entirely too tempted to apply them to situations to which they are not warranted.
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