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Soooo it looks like several people will be out of town for my Halloween Party this Saturday. I suppose this is what I get for only announcing it 1.) a month and a half ago, and 2.) two days ago.
Okay, small and intimate it'll be. That's fine. Just means less snacks and booze I need to buy. It's just as well, as I'm starting to fear that I can't wear the Two-Face makeup for long without it starting to drip blood over my new pinstripe suit. Stupid sweat.
So some of you may recall our female tenant having very loud sex in our thin-walled house. We hadn't heard much of her in the past few months. Heck, we hardly see her as it is; she leaves early in the morning and doesn't return until around 1 AM.
But last night, she was at it again. Boy oh boy, was she ever. She must have a new boyfriend, because the last guy was strictly a Six Minute Man. Best as I could figure over the hour, they went at least three times. And she was louder than ever.
And y'know, I'm no voyeur. I don't get off on listening or watching people have sex live in front of me no more than I like watching people enjoy a sumptuous banquet. But more than ever last night, you couldn't not hear this woman. It really got to the point of morbid fascination. Partially because she really doesn't seem to know we can all hear her.
Her mother moved in for a month a while back, and bragged to the mother (which the mother, in turned, bragged to my mother), "Yeah, Mr. ________ has been coming over late at night when I get home from work. He's been helping me out, as I've been so sick..." which is true, he has been because she's been sick as a dog, "Roberta probably thinks I'm sleeping with him, ha ha ha!"
Honey, either you're covering your ass for your Mom, or you think we're downright idiots. I mean, last night, it was the full ensemble.
"eeh, eeh, EEh..." (pause.) "... aaahUGHAHHH! Oh God! Oh my God!"
*creak creak creak creak creak*
*bedpost slamming into wall over and over*
"Oh my God! Oh my God! Augh! Augh! Auuuughh!"
Man: Shhhh!
"OH MY GODDDDD! AUUUGHHAH! AH! AH! AH! AH!"
Man: Shhhh! Shhhh!
*Mom and I, looking at each other with wide-eyed astonishment*
... I just don't know what to do with this girl. She's not bothering us, exactly. But there's no way to tell her (aside from my original plan), and I'd love to make a monologue about all this, but I don't know how to do it without humiliating her.
Watched fifteen minutes of the PSYCHO remake. While it's pointless to harp on such a universally despised bad idea, I have to ask: who the hell thought it was a good idea to cast Vince fucking Vaughn as Norman Bates? The guy's not a pube on Tony Perkins' nutsack. Let's compare the two...
Perkins: nervous, shifty, scared, creepy but not in a way that anyone had ever been creepy before. You know why? Because he invented that kind of character! On top of that, he also seemed in some ways genuinely innocent and kind of a nice guy with serious issues. In other words, a complex and wholly unique character.
Vaughn: Buff slimy-charming frat boy who looks like a stereotypically creepy rapist from the very fucking second you see him.
I don't want to be thinking, "Hey there, and welcome to my new show, 'Vince Vaughn Bangs Your Mom,'" especially not when he's supposed to be Norman Bates. *shudder*
*wags cigar* I've hoid of 'dry-humping', but this is ree-dick-er-ous! *rimshot* Hot-ta-cha-cha-cha! Thank you, I'll be here till Thursday, fuck you, Gus Van Sant.
I made a Caramel Apple shot. It's equal parts butterscotch schnapps and Pucker Sour Apple schnapps. I think my teeth are still melting.
Okay, small and intimate it'll be. That's fine. Just means less snacks and booze I need to buy. It's just as well, as I'm starting to fear that I can't wear the Two-Face makeup for long without it starting to drip blood over my new pinstripe suit. Stupid sweat.
So some of you may recall our female tenant having very loud sex in our thin-walled house. We hadn't heard much of her in the past few months. Heck, we hardly see her as it is; she leaves early in the morning and doesn't return until around 1 AM.
But last night, she was at it again. Boy oh boy, was she ever. She must have a new boyfriend, because the last guy was strictly a Six Minute Man. Best as I could figure over the hour, they went at least three times. And she was louder than ever.
And y'know, I'm no voyeur. I don't get off on listening or watching people have sex live in front of me no more than I like watching people enjoy a sumptuous banquet. But more than ever last night, you couldn't not hear this woman. It really got to the point of morbid fascination. Partially because she really doesn't seem to know we can all hear her.
Her mother moved in for a month a while back, and bragged to the mother (which the mother, in turned, bragged to my mother), "Yeah, Mr. ________ has been coming over late at night when I get home from work. He's been helping me out, as I've been so sick..." which is true, he has been because she's been sick as a dog, "Roberta probably thinks I'm sleeping with him, ha ha ha!"
Honey, either you're covering your ass for your Mom, or you think we're downright idiots. I mean, last night, it was the full ensemble.
"eeh, eeh, EEh..." (pause.) "... aaahUGHAHHH! Oh God! Oh my God!"
*creak creak creak creak creak*
*bedpost slamming into wall over and over*
"Oh my God! Oh my God! Augh! Augh! Auuuughh!"
Man: Shhhh!
"OH MY GODDDDD! AUUUGHHAH! AH! AH! AH! AH!"
Man: Shhhh! Shhhh!
*Mom and I, looking at each other with wide-eyed astonishment*
... I just don't know what to do with this girl. She's not bothering us, exactly. But there's no way to tell her (aside from my original plan), and I'd love to make a monologue about all this, but I don't know how to do it without humiliating her.
Watched fifteen minutes of the PSYCHO remake. While it's pointless to harp on such a universally despised bad idea, I have to ask: who the hell thought it was a good idea to cast Vince fucking Vaughn as Norman Bates? The guy's not a pube on Tony Perkins' nutsack. Let's compare the two...
Perkins: nervous, shifty, scared, creepy but not in a way that anyone had ever been creepy before. You know why? Because he invented that kind of character! On top of that, he also seemed in some ways genuinely innocent and kind of a nice guy with serious issues. In other words, a complex and wholly unique character.
Vaughn: Buff slimy-charming frat boy who looks like a stereotypically creepy rapist from the very fucking second you see him.
I don't want to be thinking, "Hey there, and welcome to my new show, 'Vince Vaughn Bangs Your Mom,'" especially not when he's supposed to be Norman Bates. *shudder*
*wags cigar* I've hoid of 'dry-humping', but this is ree-dick-er-ous! *rimshot* Hot-ta-cha-cha-cha! Thank you, I'll be here till Thursday, fuck you, Gus Van Sant.
I made a Caramel Apple shot. It's equal parts butterscotch schnapps and Pucker Sour Apple schnapps. I think my teeth are still melting.
