Pants and Middle-of-the-Night Knocking...

I would like to thank whoever it is that is coming over at 2am every night and banging on my door for my lack of sleep.

This weekend, we had company. Aly to be exact. Aly is a contributor in my first ever Pearl Jam experience and one who I immediately considered to be one of my best new friends. In the eleven years since I met her, we have shared a lot of really ridiculous experiences but have managed to only do so because of Spliff or Tory (her cousin). To this day, I really like her, but we have never become close. Spliff was her roommate during the time that she wasn't mine and Aly comes to visit every once in a while and sleeps, in between debauchery, on our futon.

This weekend was one of those times. This time, of course, our neighbors are no longer stuck-up morons who call the landlord when we wear heels, so...we had a good time...However...I would like to say (to whoever you are), that if you come over with hiccups at 4 am and no one answers, you should not continue to knock until you are about to fall down. You should go home. GO HOME. Poor Aly only heard the knocking the first night, but I got to hear it the second. I swear, if you are Rad Neighbor and you want to take your pants off, you shouldn't even bother coming up. I think we have established that I won't let you do that, dammit.

No comments: