Neighbors Ante It Up

So it’s not like our neighbors upstairs have ridiculously loud sex (or any sex at that), party hard (or party at all), or perform animal sacrifices that Kate and I know of but they still know how to ante up the irritation factor.

Every morning and every night, the shower runs for at least an hour. I swear, they better have a pet whale and invite me upstairs to pet it because I love orcas. The dude who lives up stairs is a mad stomper, stomping loud enough to wake me up from a deep slumber. And just when I thought only washing 5 pairs of socks is ridiculously wasteful, somehow the neighbor knows how to take it up a notch and wash nothing but a single towel and leave it stinky and wet in the washer.

If it doesn’t cool down, I hope the chick who takes hour long showers develops eczema. I hope the dude develops shin splints. The other chick, she’s quiet and French. She’s cool.

Get a clue, knuckleheads.

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