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Journal Entries from the World’s Worst Tenant #3 – Noise

Journal Entries from the World’s Worst Tenant #3 – Noise

YAHOOOOOOOO! Yeah that’s right, I like to YELL! There’s little in life that can’t be communicated better in a louder voice. There, that’s a nugget of wisdom for you. When your next-door neighbor gets frustrated and starts banging on the wall because it’s 2 a.m. and you’re supposed to be a titmouse, play your cowbell along to the rhythm. I think it was Christopher Walken who said that the only prescription for the fever you get from upset neighbors is MORE COWBELL! So true.

 

The 4th of July was awesome as usual this year. Better than ever actually, because we got this metal trashcan and shot bottle rockets into it. The sound from the reverberations within the can was DEAFENING. Better than a rock concert. Just good, old-fashioned, blow-your-ears-out fun. That’s how much we love our FREEDOM! You must be safe with indoor fireworks though. It’s nothing for kids to try without the help of their ne’er-do-well uncle, yours truly.

 

Speaking of rock, another thing the neighbors don’t seem to like is the six-piece thrash metal band I formed with my roomie Ashley and four hard drinkers we found on Craiglist. Our ad said, “Love rock? Play drums? Want to play thrash metal while drinking whiskey with a bunch of other drummers?” That’s right, we’ve managed to fit SIX DRUM SETS inside the place, and we pound on them simultaneously. It’s epic. And it only gets better when we get drunk and start falling over the cymbals.

 

Speaking of getting drunk, we like to get LOADED and stay up all night! Ashley and I don’t just like to play our drum sets wasted. We’re versatile. We also like to take bong rips and tap out some killer rhythms on our bongos. While we do it, we chant incantations in guttural demonic voices, summoning dark spirits to destroy our enemies, the enemies of boss music and primal screams. Oh yeah, we also let out some primal screams. We do it by the hour, like cuckoos. Three primal screams at 3 a.m. lets you know that we’re up and active and embracing the nightlife. Four primal screams at 3 a.m. means we lost count because we’re so drunk and high that we’re OUT OF OUR MINDS!

 

Our landlord asked us to cool it on the noise, so we ceremonially burned the lease in the backyard while cackling at the moon. No one keeps us down. Especially not someone who wears a necktie. LOSER!

 

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