My Cranky Disposition

I think I might as well own up to the fact that I have a cranky disposition. According to my Eudora statistics, I have received 78 e-mail messages since Feb. 1. Of those, only 3 were not spam. And I notice that I get more and more annoyed after each session of pressing the Delete button to trash them all. Yes, I know that’s a very trivial thing — not something to have a fit over — but if I read one more subject line like “Hot Seks Pictures,” or the best ever horny teenage wet p*ssies, or huge c*m dripping c*cks, I will definitely scream.

Heeee’s Back!

the downstairs neighbour from hell, that is.

Things I Would Like to Know

  1. What is that damn machine he has which, when he turns it on, sounds like something that’s about to take off and then hums continuously? I’d be tempted to say it’s an air conditioner, but it’s the freakin’ month of February in Halifax!
  2. Why does he need to have a goddamn cuckoo clock? Isn’t the memorial tower in the park next door enough to signal the passage of time?
  3. Why does he insist on using one of those speaker phones to dial (and, moreover, set it so that I can clearly hear the dial tone, his dialing sequence, and the ringing at the other end of the line)?
  4. Why was he so petulant when the new super told him he could no longer just use the extra outside parking spot he “always used” (but never paid for), especially when he never returned the new supers’ call while he was working in Europe?
  5. Does he still jerk off, moaning loudly, for 30 minutes or so between 3:00 and 5:00 p.m.?
  6. Will he again be using his apartment as a rehearsal studio this time around?
  7. Does he have any idea of how obnoxiously loud he is? Specifically, why can I always tell when he’s home, which I can’t do with my neighbours on either side of me?
  8. As someone who has often lived in an apartment where I have neighbours below me, I always make a point of walking softly, and seldom with shoes on. He’s the first downstairs neighbour I’ve ever had whose walking I can hear; pity the people below him. Does he give a damn?
  9. How long will he be in town this time?
  10. Should I speak to him — not in an angry tone, but simply discuss, calmly, that I, too, am a freelancer who works at home and I need quiet to concentrate when I’m programming stuff in PHP/MySQL?

My dilemma is that the noise level is NOT like he’s having a constant wild party, so in terms of decibels, I probably don’t have much of a case. It’s just that he’s one of those people whose presence is always felt and heard. In fact, he’d probably be a fine neighbour if he lived in a detached house, but not so in an apartment building.