Dear Men Who Drive Around Blasting Music So Loud That the Thump of Your Woofers Makes Me Think I’ve Developed Heart Arrhythmia:
No matter how big your speakers are, they’re never going to compensate for your small dicks.
Dear Upstairs Neighbor Who Bangs on the Floor Whenever My Woofer Barks at Some Noise or Event He Feels the Need to Object to:
I’m sorry, I lost the remote control that lets me turn off his vocal output at will. Plus, every time you do that, you’re giving him something additional to bark about. How hard is that to figure out? I tolerate your late night heavy metal sessions and the irritating sound of your chair scraping back and forth along the floor; I’m sure you can deal with a dog barking intermittently. It’s certainly no worse than the screeching of the zoo animals outside.
Dear Everyone:
Yes, I really need to find something out to write about other than bitching about noise! I’m starting to feel like an old crank. Ironically, I’m a percussionist at heart and will happily create an infernal racket when I have access to drums and other interesting things to bang on.
write flattering stories about me. hope you are well.