Killer Bass
My mom is always quick to point out potential disasters that might befall me, but I beat her to the punch with this story about the guy who killed his neighbors (two well-known artists, I might add) because they complained about his excessive noise:
"Cifelli lived in a three-story condominium building at West 75th Street and Detroit Avenue, where Masumi Hayashi, 60, and John Jackson, 51, also lived.
They were shot Thursday evening after Hayashi had complained, yet again, about the loud music coming from Cifelli's massive stereo system, police said."
Ahh, the pitfalls of gentrification. Proving once more that the world doesn't need more artists, it needs more jerks with loud stereos. It's pretty hard to contain my disgust.
Of all my (many, many) past noisy neighbors, I think the one most likely to have gone off half-cocked was the guy that lived downstairs from me in Cleveland Heights, who had large, drunken poker parties every Sunday (and occasionally Monday) nights, which almost always involved one of his meatheaded buddies parking his SUV in my spot (which I paid $35 a month for!)
I remember going down there one particular evening as I neared the final draft of my master's thesis, asking him if he wouldn't mind keeping it down. One of the Zima-enhanced buddies answered the door, as was customary, slurring "suresure, wool bequiet" and J--- muscled his way in, saying "hey! youcomedownhere evurrry week, an' I nevurrcomplain about all the noise from yurr cat running around. Fair's fair. I'm having my guys ovurrwhenevurr I wanna."
He was actually comparing the sound of one eight-pound cat chasing a catnip mousie around the floor once in a while to the sound of fifteen to twenty drunken ex-frat boys blasting the Green Day and Candlebox and Bush of their ever-waning youth and yelling "Fuck me!" every time one of them got a good hand.
"Mad" doesn't describe how I felt. Certainly "irritated," "testy," "incensed," don't get to it either. "Apoplectic" is more like it, although what's that state the Vikings would get into right before going on a pillaging spree? Oh yeah, "berserk."
(On second thought, maybe my mom sent me that article as a warning against what I might be capable of, not my loud neighbors!)
"Cifelli lived in a three-story condominium building at West 75th Street and Detroit Avenue, where Masumi Hayashi, 60, and John Jackson, 51, also lived.
They were shot Thursday evening after Hayashi had complained, yet again, about the loud music coming from Cifelli's massive stereo system, police said."
Ahh, the pitfalls of gentrification. Proving once more that the world doesn't need more artists, it needs more jerks with loud stereos. It's pretty hard to contain my disgust.
Of all my (many, many) past noisy neighbors, I think the one most likely to have gone off half-cocked was the guy that lived downstairs from me in Cleveland Heights, who had large, drunken poker parties every Sunday (and occasionally Monday) nights, which almost always involved one of his meatheaded buddies parking his SUV in my spot (which I paid $35 a month for!)
I remember going down there one particular evening as I neared the final draft of my master's thesis, asking him if he wouldn't mind keeping it down. One of the Zima-enhanced buddies answered the door, as was customary, slurring "suresure, wool bequiet" and J--- muscled his way in, saying "hey! youcomedownhere evurrry week, an' I nevurrcomplain about all the noise from yurr cat running around. Fair's fair. I'm having my guys ovurrwhenevurr I wanna."
He was actually comparing the sound of one eight-pound cat chasing a catnip mousie around the floor once in a while to the sound of fifteen to twenty drunken ex-frat boys blasting the Green Day and Candlebox and Bush of their ever-waning youth and yelling "Fuck me!" every time one of them got a good hand.
"Mad" doesn't describe how I felt. Certainly "irritated," "testy," "incensed," don't get to it either. "Apoplectic" is more like it, although what's that state the Vikings would get into right before going on a pillaging spree? Oh yeah, "berserk."
(On second thought, maybe my mom sent me that article as a warning against what I might be capable of, not my loud neighbors!)
posted by Christine Borne at 11:49 AM
2 Comments:
Cats ARE really annyoing if you aren't a cat person.
Well, I'm not a drunk jerkass person, myself....
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