Friday, November 5, 2010

In the Hundered Acre Woods

Dear Mr.Sir downstairs,
    
We haven't met but I am your upstairs neighbor. When your hear those big clunks on your ceiling, don't worry, that is probably just me dropping/tripping over something. I am sorry about those noises but this letter isn't about me, it's about you.

I don't know if anyone has ever told you but your laugh sounds like a mix of a dying goat and goofy. Now this wouldn't normally be a problem, but you seem to giggle and snort at all the wrong times.  Say like 12:30 A.M when I'm trying to get my beauty sleep and when I'm startled awake because I think a goat is dying. Then I realize it is just you and I try to picture what it would be like to run you over with my bicycle. Now I'm not a violent person per se, but you see what your laugh is doing to me?

Also, I love Disney songs just as much as the next person does. But when you decide to sing:

"Winnie-the-Pooh, Winnie-the-Pooh, Tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff. He's Winnie-the-Pooh. Winnie-the-Pooh. Willy, nilly, silly, old bear"

 At the top of your lungs at 6:00 in the AM, it sort of makes me not only want to barf on you 5 times, but also dress you up in a BYU outfit and let you loose in the Spectrum and let them tear you to pieces.

I hope this won't affect our neighborly relationship!


Sincerely, 

Me, From Upstairs

3 comments:

Annette said...

That bad huh?

This is me! said...

Ok, that's pretty funny. And disturbing. Now I know where you got Pete's birthday song.

Dave Kennedy said...

I knew someone once who had to endure the people above him stomping and line dancing while singing, at max volume, "Fishing In The Dark" by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.