Dear Heels and Man-Heels,
Let me start off by saying that I appreciate your need to exaggerate your height (someone once asked me if I was even 5 feet tall...DISCLAIMER: my Driver's License says I'm 5' 2" and we all know you can't lie on those forms...). But when you are in the vicinity of your own home, are you for real (fast forward to 1 min. 53 sec). I don't need to hear you stomping around in 6-inch wooden stilettos at all times like a pirate with two peg legs who's trying to find his way back to the ship. And why would you even begin to start dancing??
Those cozy, fabric slippers that were left outside of your door circa Christmas time were NOT from St. Nick. They were from a lesser-known, more pissed off St. Dez, who intended that they be put to good use. Guess you were too tall for that. I can only imagine that Man-Heels used them to mop up the excess of hair product that he slung all over the bathroom while getting ready in the morning (this isn't the Jersey Shore, dbag...and wearing a popped collar...on a sweater, while carrying an open Coors Light on the sidewalk doesn't make you cool).
Remember that time you were nursing a Rain Forest in your living room and all the water overflowed out of the pots and dripped through the floor? Well, thanks for watering my brand-new TV. With the proper amount of sunlight, I was able to ruin not one, but two, input ports.
Just so you know, no level of OCD makes it okay to vacuum at 7am or 1am for that matter. And when I awoke to the loud crooning of your awful country music at 6am and screamed "shut up motherf#@*$!!!," it actually was not an invitation for you to turn the music up louder.
When you were showing your apartment to a potential subletter and they asked about noise level and you told them that you "knew a little bit too much about the girl downstairs," what exactly did you mean by that? I should probably remind you that when you're in the middle of a domestic dispute or referring to your potential jail sentence, that it would be a good idea to whisper.
Regards,
The girl who's about to call the cops on you
13 comments:
Hilarious and sad all in the same. I have the same problem in my apartment. I think a herd of elephants moved in above us and have their bowling league over from 6-7am and then again from 7-10pm each evening. And they vacuum at odd hours too!
Ugh! Awful! Right now I'm subletting for two months and my next door neighbors are ravers. Yeah, they have parties and listen to techno really loudly and do lots of drugs. AND the guy down stairs has a sound system on his television that shakes our floor. I hate them all.
Anyway! It's awful that you can actually make out what they are saying! Even with bad sound proofing they are obviously talking way too loudly. Awful!
Wow they're terrible neighbours!
I'm pretty glad I live on the top floor, but now I'm wondering what the people below think of us... haha (at least we have no impending jail time to discuss)!
p.s. your post reminded me of this funny website: http://www.deargirlsaboveme.com/
I hate the people who live above you.
Hilarious but ughhh. I had two guys living above me in my dorm last year and it was HORRIBLE. There were so many manly noises wafting through the floor. At least you have the courage to (eventually?) call the cops?
haha this is so funny but i feel your pain for how they are behaving.
just come across your lovely blog nad am now following you
x
LMBO!! So funny..
I'm the one who lives above someone, I did that on purpose ;) Now what I can't stand are my rabbit porn star neighbors, who actually share their bedroom wall with mine. (sigh) Why must it be necessary to yell out, "Timber!!" and bark ..yes, BARK- towards the end of their fiasco!?!? I guess the perfect neighbor just does not exist.
This is why I'm so thankful my husband and I were finally able to move into a house - with only one neighbour - who thank God is quiet.
It's terrible to come home at the end of a long day and not be able to relax. Boo :(
At my old apartment, the neighbors above me always sounded like they were rearranging furniture. At 8 p.m. 4 a.m. 2 p.m. Time of day made no difference. There was a lot of furniture, and it had to be rearranged.
OMG this is exactly why we moved into a 2nd floor apartment when we moved from Mass to AZ. I seriously couldn't take listening to the squeaking elf (we named him George ) continue to bowl at all hours of the day. Strangely no matter what room I was in he was in the same room, also didn't matter what time of day it was (bathroom at 3AM? Yup, there was George). Will not miss 1st floor living, get out now if you can!
Now I hate the people who live above me.
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