Best of my old blog #2 Evil Upstairs

Remember what I said about life being dull?

Spoke too soon.

Way too soon.

Woke thirsty this morning, stumbled out to the kitchen to get a drink, only to be confronted by the sight of my pantless upstairs neighbor stumbling around the hall, after he came home drunk of his fucking ass, walked into our apartment and started to try to climb in bed with the roomy and Eidles!

As I write, he's passed out in front of his door on the second floor landing.

Now, as weird as it may have been for my roomy to have to kick some drunk assholes head to get his attention and get him out of his room, the really weird thing is that my reaction to this smacked of "Not again!?"

I mean, back when the Frenchy was sharing the apartment with me, and I slept in the room Ragnar's in now, I was once awakened to pounding Norwegian death metal being played at the highest volume possible directly through the fucking floor, and the sight of strawberry skyr (a kind of Icelandic yoghurt) spilled all over the hallway and filling the shoes of Frenchy's current gentleman caller.

The reason for this you ask?

Well, The Upstairs Neighbor of Doom and Frenchy had had a thing, which she had broken off. He comes home shitfaced, stumbles upon the fact that someone forgot to lock the door (a sadly common occurrence, as we smoke outside) walks uninvited into the apartment, sees them getting it on, and takes the most childish revenge ever.

After the cussing out I gave him, he had to be really drunk to pull that shit this morning. I'm seriously considering throwing a bucket of water over his drunken ass, or coating embarrassing bits of him in hair-removal lotion, or possible handcuffing him to a tree and leaving him pantless in the front yard with a sign that says "Do Me!" around his neck.

The stupid fucking prick.

I mean, if its not his drunk-ass friends throwing pebbles at his windows and shouting for him to wake up from the garden at all hours of the night, not his wild midweek parties that always include both loud obnoxious electronica at 2am and a "jam session" on his assorted instruments, not party debris littering the yard which he never fucking cleans up, then its either him, or in one very awkward case, his naked fling, invading my apartment.

Yup, you read that right. Shortly after the Skyr –Puntur- Incident, his lady-friend-for-the-evening apparently got lost on her way to the bathroom, walked down the stairs, into my apartment, into my room, and crawled, butt-naked, into my bed, where she proceeded to steal all the covers and snore loudly, leaving me to spending the night on the couch in my own apartment while she slept it off.

It was almost worth it to see the look on her face the next day.

Almost.

So as I am found of making declarations about my future behavior on this blog (no more drunken big-mouthedness of me, no more drunk blogging, etc…) I hereby make another: REMEMBER TO LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR!