...und niemand fängt mich ein!

[bee_york]

Fucking motherfuck.
The other day I went upstairs to neighbours and asked them oh-so-politely to PLEASE stop wearing their shoes around the apartment because it makes a lot of noise. They told me equally politely no problem, took off their shoes, and I spent the rest of my morning somewhat more sane.
Now they're stomping around in their shoes again. WHAT THE FUCK. And they're big running shoes too. I swear they're doing it on purpose. And if they're not, then that's just retarded.
I don't get it. Do they WANT to piss me off? Do they really?! Because honestly? I don't have to study Japanese and German quietly. My favourite way of studying those languages, actually, is by singing along in those languages. Which they will hear CRYSTAL clear through our paper-thin walls & ceilings. You want that, you fucks? Really, guys? Really?!?!? FINE. Next time I want to study my languages, you're getting a front-row seat. I hope you like hearing Defying Gravity in GERMAN and OFF-KEY sung 4 or 5 times in a row. I know that's a lot, but it really helps me remember some German reflexive verbs.

DIAF fuckers fuckers FUCK I'm in a flu with a headache and I'm in NO MOOD for their idiotic immaturities.
If anyone wants to come over and help me form a choir, let me know.
The worse you sing, the better. >:)

Anyone have crappy neighbour stories to share? I have enough to write a whole book, but whatever.

Comments

[oo-maya-oo.livejournal.com]

My first apartment was on the corner of Duluth and Parc Lafontaine, when I was 18. I was in one of the few apartments whose front door was facing the courtyard (you'll understand why I mention this later) as were my windows. I had these insane neighbours upstairs that loved to have really wild sex. I mean, like, BDSM ass-whipping and stuff. I got sick of putting up with it every two days, in the middle of the night, so I grabbed my broom and tapped the ceiling and yelled "I can hear you! Please stop!" and there was a silence for about 5 minutes. All of a sudden, they yelled, "Fuck you, you stupid bitch!" and I said something along the lines of inserting objects where the sun don't shine...anyway...

10 minutes go by and there's silence again. I start dozing off and all of a sudden I hear a rock bang against my kitchen window. Then, a rock against my bathroom window. After that, it's hands smacking against the glass and I'm scared out of my mind and sobbing. They eventually left but I was this young and innocent little thing who had just left the West Island and was shitting my pants (figuratively speaking, of course!) and I still feel anger and hatred when I think of that couple. I never even saw their faces but I hope they tripped and fell on their dildos and poked an eye out, FFS! Fucking assholes!

Ok, ok...I think I need wine now.

[bee-york.livejournal.com]

They threw ROCKS at your window?! WTF. Did you call the police??!?!

[craighatesyou.livejournal.com]

I took german for 2 semesters in cegep

Are you still in the same building? I can help to thoroughly annoy them

[lucyskydiamonds.livejournal.com]

I lived under a bongo shop on St. Denis for 2 years. Yes, under. As long as I was awake before 8 a.m. every day of the week, they were the most courteous people on earth, but god forbid I slept in on the very rare day off on the weekend.

Actually, all of my apartments before this one were very noisy. There was the bongo place (I was 18, OK?), there was a place on Coloniale in front of the gay bath house, and close enough to St. Laurent to step in barf pretty much every morning, then there was the place on Rachel & Parc Lafontaine next to the fire station (my window was RIGHT in front of the door, it was painful), and finally there was a place on Decarie & Sherbrooke next to the 24 hour gas station.

Living above a Second Cup in Outremont has been downright quiet, except one night my upstairs neighbours were playing Dance Dance Revolution at 3 a.m. on a Wednesday. In that case I put on Matt's really gross tattered old bathrobe, put my hair up in towel, and looked as cross as I could when I went to knock on their doors to tell them to STFU. It more or less worked... they have been quiet since then, but sometimes they leave passive aggressive notes on our door when we have loud sex... But we never do that after midnight, so I just brush it off.

[bee-york.livejournal.com]

Ha! I also used to live near Decarie and Sherbrooke. (I lived on Decarie between NDG street and Cote-St-Antoine.) I know what dep you're talking about, I used to go there all the time. :D