mr. & mrs. loudington, our upstairs neighbors, have really been asking for it these past few weeks. i haven't physically seen what they've been doing, but the noises have spoken for themselves. their schedule as of late has been along these lines:

7 am: wake up, throw up loudly in bathroom.
7:15 am: first fight of the day. "f*ck you, you dumb b*tch, you don't f*cking know anything!"
7:20 am: tap dance in kitchen.
7:30 am: break dishes.
7:45 am: jump on bed for fifteen minutes.
8:00 am: stomp around apartment looking for heavy objects to pick up and drop.
8:30 am: slam series of doors, leave for the day.
5:00 pm: return home, reslam all doors.
5:15 pm: drag stove out to middle of living room, hoist it high above heads, let it crash onto floor.
5:30 pm: drag stove back to kitchen, hoist high above heads, let it crash to the floor.
6:00 pm: drill together never-ending supply of drillable products.
6:15 pm: resume fighting from morning, throw around sofas.
6:30 pm: throw up dinner in bathroom, loudly.
6:45 pm: get out pogo stick, use liberally in living room.
7:00 pm: invite over obese friends, have jumping contest.
7:14 pm: followed by screaming contest.
8:00 pm: slam all doors, converse at the top of lungs, nail together a lot of wood.
8:30 pm: break dishes, run laps around couch, attempt to bounce medicine ball.
9:00 pm: settle down for night with another fight. "you don't know everything, you dumb b*tch."
9:15 pm: sob loudly into vent.
10:00 pm: begin bedtime ritual of more tap dancing. slam all doors shut.
10:15 pm: rigorous sex.
10:30 pm: arguments about sex being too rigorous.
11:00 pm: pick up refrigerator, drop onto sheet of metal.
11:45 pm: power-sand floors.
12:00 am: get into bed, bounce on every spring.
2:00 am: break sheets of glass, yell "sh*t."
2:15 am: stomp around trying to clean up.
2:20 am: get out the drill.
4:00 am: rigorous sex.

finally, we figured out how to get back at the loudingtons. last night, we plugged in our new karaoke machine and sang "hits of late 60s" at the top of our lungs. take a letter, maria- we're fighting back, with speakers.

because nothing's more annoying than off-key neighbors with a microphone. am i right? am i right, am i right, am i right?