Monday, March 6

Lock & Load.

The following post has once again been rated:
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For violence, sexual content and dialogue. Strap in and stay still.

Loud Neighbor Update - Part V:
'A Call To Arms.'

Once upon a time, in a world much like our own, there stood a beaten man with his back against the wall. He had nowhere to turn, and nobody to trust but himself. When faced with a difficult decision, he was given one of two choices.

One, he could back down and live a life of quiet submission, dying heartbroken and alone.

Or two, he could make a stand and fight back.

Upon accepting his fate, he said something that has been quoted by historians for ages:

"I could have killed 'em all. I could kill you. In town, you're the law, out here it's me. Don't push it. Don't push it or I'll give you a war you won't believe. Let it go. Let it go.

That man was John J. Rambo, from the 1982 classic, First Blood.

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I consider myself to be a lot like Rambo. He makes decent split-second decisions, lets his fists do the talking when he's too hung over to think, and has killed literally thousands of Viet Cong. Watching First Blood is like looking into a slightly less muscular mirror.

If you remember from PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE and yes, even PART FOUR of this never-ending saga, we have been in a 3-month long battle with our loud neighbors. If you're just tuning in, or are too lazy to take a look back, our neighbors have this habit of round-the-clock, headboard-banging, Tourette's syndrome sounding thrust sessions. It was entertaining for the first 14 seconds back in December, but it has escalated into an all-out war between apartments.

Where we last left off, the neighbors have promptly ignored not only a firm-but-fair letter from us, but also a letter from the leasing office. The Missus issued some tough love by banging on the wall and yelling some nights ago, but eventually, everything has since returned to its original volume and annoyance level. Showing compassion for the neighbors, and attributing most of the blame to faulty architecture and soundproof insulation, we compromised. For the next few nights, we slept with earplugs in and a running fan for cover noise. Some nights, we even slept in the living room. We've altered our lives for the sole purpose of not being jerks to our rude neighbors.

Idle no more.

Yesterday, the Missus talked to the leasing office for the second time concerning the noise. We wanted to go through them so everything's mature and on the up-and-up. Besides, fear of eviction is the only thing keeping us from turning their lives into a wide awake nightmare.

The leasing office left a message with the Missus, stating that-- get this...

The day after the leasing office left the letter with the neighbors, the girl called the office back, and told them she had no idea what we were talking about, and that they weren't making any noise whatsoever.

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Say whaaat?

Oh, now you've done it.

They could have been big about it, shown some spine. They could have at least pleaded the fifth with the leasing office out of embarrassment, but you know, actually shut the hell up for fear of future embarrassment.

Instead of doing anything even resembling tact or class, they told the leasing office that we must be bat-crap crazy, or trying to purposely sabotage them for some reason, and they by no means plan on turning down the constant Spice Channel that is my bedroom wall.

Nice. I feel bad for them, really. They have no idea who they're living next door to.

We gave these people the benefit of the doubt for three months. We assumed they were newlyweds. We assumed they were trying to have a baby, and were choosing these ridiculous mating times because they were consulting some sort of chart for optimum fertility. We wrote a kind note where most would have threatened them. We slept in the living room where most would have banged on the wall until order was restored. We wore earplugs and slept with a God damn fan in the winter where most would have stormed over there and beat the crap out of both of them months ago.

I'm only telling you all of this should I be arrested and sent to trial. Anything that happens to the neighbors from this point forward will be hereby considered temporary insanity.

In fact, I'm the only thing standing between them and my wife's boot in both their asses. They should be thanking me constantly for my patience and resolve, and having unnecessarily loud sex in my name and honor. My wife wanted to settle this with a brutal double-murder weeks ago.

Again, I don't care what they do in their own home. They could be batter-dipping kittens over there for all I care, and I wouldn't say a peep, provided it didn't disturb my day-to-day life. It's when the activities invade my space where I start to get cranky. You should understand by now that I don't get cranky often, but when I do, brother, it's all over.

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"What'cha gunna do, brother, when the CDP--"

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"Aaaugh! It's Racky! I mean Rombo! PLEASE HELP!"

I equate this noise to a fight or a loud party. It's noise, it's loud, and I can't sleep with it. Done and done. Me and the Missus are constantly respectful of our neighbors. When we have a party, we make sure the noise level stays decent late at night. When our fighting gets out of hand and the police are called, we request that they keep their sirens off. When we enjoy each others' company, we do so in a closet on the second floor that's been specially lined with egg-crate foam by yours truly. We don't bother people in the hallway, we don't show up to apartment-wide events. We're the perfect neighbors.

Until you cross us, that is. So, what should we do?

Obviously, the Missus wants swift and bloody Rambo-style justice. I, however, believe that psychological warfare is our strong suit. Nobody can top me and the Missus when we're working together to drive someone slowly and completely insane. Considering that's exactly what the neighbors are doing to us, it's due time we put a stop to this amateur hour, and show them how the pros do it.

The trick with psychological warfare is to keep the enemy on their toes, 24 hours a day. They have been using this tactic on us since the beginning, constantly leaving us to wonder when the other shoe's going to drop. When we can hear them, we wonder when it's going to stop. When we can't hear them, we wonder when it's going to start. It's kind of horrible, and I really think they need to experience that.

So, submitted for your approval, the complete Loud Neighbor Battle Plan, sponsored by Billy Beer.

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1. The next time we hear them over there, moaning and slapping about like an echo chamber haunted by the ghosts of cavemen, a second letter from us will be written and sent. The tone will be considerably more harsh than the previous one, specifically informing them what their actions have done to our side of the wall. In the letter, they will be informed that we know about the conversation they had with the leasing office, where they claimed that they had "no idea what we were talking about."

This may or may not spear a response letter from the neighbors, who at this point are probably tired of the explicit letters being stuffed in their door on a weekly basis. If this were to happen, the letter will be scanned and posted here on the CDP for public view. Let's move on.

2. Upon sending the letter, a recorder will be set up in our bedroom for the next few nights. Me and the Missus will spend these nights camping out on the living room floor, roasting Smores in front of the fireplace and downing bottles of Pinot, laughing heartily at their upcoming demise.

3. After compiling a few nights of said moaning and slapping, a copy of the tape will be sent to the neighbors and the leasing office with an accompanying letter. Samples will be posted on the CDP for a nominal fee, along with their names, phone numbers and photos I've snapped of them entering and leaving the apartment.

4. Enjoy the chaos. Watch laughing from balcony as U-Haul truck backs up to their door. Sip a Mimosa in boxer shorts and sleep for 8 days.

Failing all this, Plan B is simply to inform the neighbors they are now being recorded, and should really have no problem with this if they have "no idea what we're talking about." In this scenario, no recorder will be set up, but the neighbors will think there is, and that should be more than enough to silence them. The mere thought of being recorded while intimate would cause most folks to shut down faster than a Vespa with a gas tank full of Go-Gurt. In reality, that lack of sexual shame is the only edge that Scott Stapp has over me.

In short, I can't wait for them to make noise again. Thank you, John Rambo.

What do you think? Sound off in the comments section, and prepare for battle.

Image hosting by Photobucket The latest Commie Award goes to Natalie Portman. More specifically, for her SNL Digital Short, which can be viewed right here. Forget ' 'Lazy Sunday,' this left me wiping tears from my eyes. The rest of the episode was pretty good, too. Her ripping on the Star Wars crowd in the monologue was especially hilarious.

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Spend Monday with me in the comments section.

(Edit: Video link has been changed, and is now functional.)

Comments:
What if it was the neighbor that got the note by mistake that didn't know what you were talking about?

Did you watch the Oscars? I thought John Stewart was pretty funny, though the crowd didn't seem very receptive to him.
 
I was thinking the same thing, what if the wrong people got the note and truly don't know what you are talking about? You could be starting an all out war with Ward & June Cleaver.
 
The person in the leasing office told us the apt. # of the people she talked to, and it was the correct one. I was thinking about that too, but it turns out they got it right this time. Either the girl in the apartment is bluffing, or she can't possibly believe that we can hear them. I just don't think she realizes how much sound goes through that wall. Either way, it's on.

Despite not seeing 95% of the nominated films, I enjoyed the Oscars. I thought the set design and graphics were the best they've ever done, and Jon Stewart and Co. were hilarious. I love it when a comic comes up there and says things that are funny and relevant to the world around us, and the millionaire actors and actresses either don't get it or take it personally. Great jorb.

Except for George Clooney. That guy's funny. Ben Stiller's "green screen" thing had me going, too.
 
George Clooney was one of the few in the audience that knew how to react to a joke. You'd think that crowd would at least know how to act like they understood humor. I was getting sick of hearing George Clooney's name being dropped by everyone.

Will Ferrell and Steve Carell looked awesome presenting best makeup.

I think you do need to make a recording of your neighbors, give them a copy the same time you give it to the apartment management. Or better yet, video tape just to drive home the point that you have to listen to that in your own bedroom.
 
Yeah, Carrell and Ferrell were pretty funny. They are the masters of the subtle delivery of a joke that beats you mercilessly over the head.

I'll be taping the neighbors (or pretending to tape the neighbors) should they start bothering us again this week. I was also thinking of sending them a letter telling them I've been inviting people over to listen to them. That sounded like a good way to shut the show down.
 
Once again, that's only going to work if they don't want an audience.
 
True 'dat. If they start sending us back pictures and stuff, then we'll have another problem altogether. I'm purposely trying not to think about that option, as I feel icky enough as is.

I feel like Truman when he kept telling the Japanese to surrender. They have no idea what they're in for. It's for their own good that they heed my words.

Did anyone think it was funny when Hulk Hogan got attacked by Sylvester Stallone? If not, I'll stop doing those sorts of jokes. Personally, coming up with "Rombo" made me laugh enough to want to post it.
 
If you were a wrestler named Racky, I bet everyone would be real scared of you.
 
Oh man! thanks for linking that SNL short.

Vulgarity? more like Hilarity!
 
They removed the Natalie rap from youtube because of copyright infringement... Because SNL is very smart and doesn't need the publicity since noone watches it anymore.

Nice use of Morelike, Blusta.
 
Just tape them already! That is the way to go...

But I will tell you this, you better have a really nice microphone. Taping any sound through a wall is VERY hard. I know this from experience (long story... for another time). What you can hear and what a regular recording set-up can pick up is very different. All you will hear is a very faint noise in the background and you in your wife moving around in the foreground. It didn't work for me...

Good luck!

Can't wait to see what happens!!!
 
Stupid NBC. They need to understand that good, free publicity is just that.

The best part is when Natalie blows off that little girl in the Amidala costume, and smashes a beer bottle over her own head. I never thought I'd live to see her tossing around profanities and filthy rhymes like candy, and now my life is complete. She ruled.

Speaking of the neighbors, I know what you mean about the recording capabilities. In honesty, we might not actually tape them. I think in the spirit of psychological warfare, we just need to give them the illusion they are being recorded. That will be specified in the next letter we send them. Of course, the letter will be put on the CDP for public view.

I'm playing Fight Night for the Gamecube right now, and my character's name is 'Daddy Primetime.' I'm 6-0, slowly working my way through the Featherweight class. Thought you might want to know.
 
Thanks Paste, I try to hold myself to the high standards represented here at the C.D.P.

Now, back on topic. A microphone in a cone held up against the wall may cut back on background noise.

I think after all the warnings and calls from the leasing office these people are well aware of how their round-the-clock, headboard-banging, Tourette's syndrome sounding thrust sessions carry through the wall. Looks like you have some full-on EXIBITIONISTS next door. My suggestion: Call a Catholic priest and ask for an Exorcism. (more like sexorcism... bam!)
 
Offtopic... a homeless guy was set on fire in Boston the other day. I read it in the paper today. Check it oot.

In other news, I'm drunk. I love black russians.

Chuck Norris is the only living person that knows the Colonel's 11 secret ingredients. Col. Sanders also knew, which is why Chuck Norris killed him.

Back on topic, you should rent a movie from the back room of Family Video, then blast it at full volume through their wall at random hours of the day. Or send a letter saying they're disrupting Mr. Norris' sleep. That should end it right there.
 
Friends don't let friends Blog drunk.

I didn't know black Russians existed. I didn't see any in my mail-order bride catalog (rimshot).

I bet Norris makes a mean piece of chicken. He might make me fall off the vegetarian wagon, especially if he makes it extra crispy.

Isn't it funny that you can purchase basically any type of pornography at Family Video? The people tell me that the only way to compete with the Blockbusters and NetFlix's is to carry adult stuff, so there you go. Either way, I'm scared to walk behind the beaded doors. Besides, if we really wanted to make all sorts of noise, well.

So far this week, the neighbors have been keeping a low profile. Maybe they know the heat is on. Or maybe they bought a TV for the bedroom. What am I, Kreskin?

Nonetheless, we're poised at the ready.
 
Oh, and Yanni got arrested. Check it 'oot on Yahoo.
 
I always suspected Yanni was a bad apple.

That's true about video stores. My first job out of school put me on rig in the Gulf of Mexico with this kid from Bangor, ME. His Dad owned a video store and watched as Blockbuster moved into town and drove out all the others. His didn't go down though, why? That special little back room that's why. So he did what any upstanding pillar of the business community would do and promptly carved himself an empire in the porn niche of Bangor. His son is now heir to the family porno fortune.

Sad but true.
 
Oh yeah, the Portman short is on the SNL website now!
 
Thanks for the heads-up on the video, I updated the link. Hey, you got a photo up, too!

I know what you mean about the video store thing. Fortunately (or unfortunately for video store owners), Blockbuster has made so many poor business decisions over the past 5 years, it's only a matter of time before they crash and submit to the online-style of DVD ordering. Frankly, who needs a central location to rent movies anymore?

The last time I went to Blockbuster, they charged me $8 each for some games I wanted to rent. To save money, I did a month-long "no late fees" stint with them before I cancelled no more than a week later. That's just stupid, considering used video game stores sell better and more varied games for $10-$15. I could talk all day about how Blockbuster deserves to crumble, and maybe I will.
 
Yanni got arrested.
 
Yes, I am slowly learning how break into the webverse. That pic by the way perfectly captures my life on a daily basis.

BB already has mail order service. I tried it out, but went back to Netflix. They only carried hollywood garbage, I found Netflix had a lot more hard to find series and films. (Firefly, Farscape, The Office (BBC Version))
 
Some guy came into work yesterday complaining about how he had forgot his X-rated material from Family Video... they put him on hold and ended up hanging up on him while he was in my store.

I don't want to hear about your porn rentals, thank you very much.

Hey, did you hear Yanni got arrested? Plus, Kirby Pucket's dead.
 

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