so, i felt really bad about writing an email to the apartment manager. i felt bad that she, in turn, put a note on your door asking you to simmah dan nah. i felt bad that i had to email back a week later, per the manager’s request, to let her know that it still sounds like you’re disco pogo-sticking across every square inch of your beautiful one bedroom, one bath sprawling west seattle apartment. i felt uber bad that she had to call you to tell you that you’re. not. getting. it.
you’re a nice girl, why don’t you get it??? you seem smart. i’ve seen the medical books in your car. i think i am going to have to resort to hammering things into my ceiling. yeahhhhh… i’m gonna hammer your ass through my ceiling!!! i’m going to wait until 8am on a saturday though. and then 11:05am. 3:22pm. 7:04pm. 8:43pm. 9:09pm. and finally 4:13am sunday morning.
scratch that. i’m getting a jackhammer.