Those little shits are sooooooooooo loud, it drives me insane. Bear in mind, I don't live that close to a college, but the little fucks move in here anyway, cause they suck. There's this particular group of unctuous cunts that live on my floor in #501. There's at least 2 of them, maybe more, I can never tell which ones actually live there and which are squatters. It really doesn't matter, they're all going down. So, last Friday night, I was home, doing my taxes (I couldn't wait to do my taxes, cause I'm a nerd like that), and those little shits in #501 were having they selves a little party. It's about 11:30 in the pm, and I'm up to my eyeballs in W2s and receipts, and the noise coming from down the hall is driving me insane. I finally can't concentrate anymore, so I get up, and go into the hall in my pj'ed glory. I get to the door of #501 and knock graciously. Some makeup-choked creature with a bottle of PINK champagne in her hand opens the door with about5 of her giggling cohorts standing behind her. I imagine they we expecting someone else, but they got me. I says, very nicely, "I don't mean to be a dick here, but I need you to keep it down." "Okay" they say...but before they can get the door closed, 2 of them say "Oh...that poor girl". What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Poor girl? Girl? I am a wo-man...I can buy and sell your skanky asses! I'm damn-near 30 for fuck's sake...girl! Who the fuck are you to condescend to me? Fuck you, bitches in #501! But, at least the whore squad quieted down a bit. Until 1:30 am, that is. Yep, at 1:30, the boys came over, and screaming that made the first round of screaming sound reasonable happened. Now, this is really just too much. There's elderly people across the hall from me, and a family with a small child. Show some godamn respect, bitches in #501! I sat there (still doing my taxes, which rocked cause I got a wicked-fat refund!), and I waited for the screaming to stop. I waited for 5 minutes. I couldn't stands no more. I get up, go out my front door and go around the corned to confront the crowd. The bitches were hanging out of the front door, screaming at a squad of girls and boys that are in the stairwell. This is entirely too fucking much for me to handle. I says:
"Shut the fuck up!"
"Oh, we were just leaving."
"I don't give 2 shits! You need to shut the fuck up!"
"Okay, we're leaving/"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"
They shut the fuck up. But I still hate them, and they will have to go down.
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chocolate-covered, freaky and habit-formin'
2 comments:
I recommend calling the police when these little incidents happen. For one thing, the bitches don't know who you are and there's no chance for retaliatin'. But enough calls to the police coupled with a complaint to your apartment management (make sure to encourage your neighbors to do the same) can get the bitches evicted.
Of course that's not nearly as immediately satisfying as telling them to fuck off. Then again, there's nothing like fucking with someone, professionally, and goin' hardcore by getting they asses E-victed.
Man, if they mess with my world one more time, I'm going to make it my business to get these little shits evicted.
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