dear sasquatch,
i hate to be the bearer of unpleasant news, but after an impromptu conference with two sets of neighbors in the hall the other night, it appears that you have a myriad of nicknames. 219 across the hall calls you “baby elephants”. that’s plural, babycakes. for you are so heavy footed that they refer to you as an entire herd of one of the largest creatures currently roaming the earth.
next door to me (home of the putz) has affectionately named you gigantor and was in shock when i told him that you are, as i have heard, a tiny girl. either you inhabit an insanely large apartment, or your floor houses a virtual zoo of heel stompers. i presume it’s all you, sweet cheeks. i give you the honor.
that said, please shut the mug up and quit walking altogether. slither. get a set of wheels for legs like those poor amputee dogs. levitate. i don’t care what you do. i am far too polite to bang something on my ceiling. instead i will continue to be passive aggressive and berate you on my blog.
xoxo,
you make me want to throw things
