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.
The girl who's about to call the cops on you