DOWN WITH PANTS!

For the last hour and a half I have had to listen to my downstairs neighbor, Trixie (as we like to call her) and her boy toy fight. This isn't the first time this has happened, in fact it happens quite often. But tonight it was taken to a new, disturbing level.

The fighting wasn't that bad. Although, if my neighbors are going to fight, I want it to be a knock down, drag out, you fucked my sister kind of fight rather than the psycho babble that these two were spouting at each other. "Ohhhh, you're just mad because you don't understand what it's like to have a kid! You're mad because you can't understand why I have been mourning my father for the past year! You can't understand me..." Boo fucking hoo.

But the fighting is pretty much par for the course. What killed me was that after about 45 minutes, they started playing music very loudly. So loud that I could make out the song "Crush" by the Dave Matthews Band and the voices of both Trixie and her boy toy singing at the top of their lungs. I haven't heard anyone belt out a DMB song like that since my college days. It was awful then and it is doubly awful now.

After about five minutes of more Dave Matthews, but luckily no singing, the music was turned off and the fighting began again. It only just barely stopped and the laughing began. A scary sign that Dave might not be too far behind.