Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Twas the week before christmas...

... when all through the district
Many a creature was stirring, quite many a mouse.
The mittens were hung in the new apt with care,
In hopes that Snopacalypse soon would be there.

The cohabitators were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of SnOMG danced in their heads.
And Sasquatch in his ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the hall there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like a flash,
To peep through the peephole and kick some ass.
...
When, what to our wondering ears should a-hear,
But a gaggle of drunks playing Rock Band.

No seriously, I have to break away from Moore's classic poem to emphasize the nature of our disturbance and its resolution. My new apartment lacks soundproofing from the hallway, and so any noise coming from another apartment, while not making its way through a wall, floor or ceiling, easily comes through the gaps around the door jamb and at the bottom. On this particular night, we were trying to fall asleep despite a party occurring down the hall, which we didn't notice until the Rock Band started, when we were jolted awake by these charming lyrics,

"I WANNA TAKE YOU TO A GAY BAR GAY BAR, GAY. BAR. GAY. BAR. GAY BAR. GAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY BARRRRRRRR."

**hope-filled, breathless pause in which we thought it'd be over**

"AT THE GAY BAR GAY BAR GAY BAR WAAAAOHHHHHH!"
...

"What the hell?"
"I don't know"
"Is that even a song??"
"Apparentl--"


"I'VE GOT SOMETHING TO PUT IN YOU, SOMETHING TO PUT IN YOU AT THE GAY BAR GAY BAR, GAY. BAR. GAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY BARRRRRRRR. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO"

At this point we couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of a) the song, and b) the clear, emphatic, enthusiastic enunciation of the singer.

"I think this is what hell's like."

"I WANNA TAKE YOU TO A GAY BAR GAY BAR, GAY. BAR. GAY. BAR. GAY BAR. GAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY BARRRRRRRR."

I need to emphasize here that it sounded as though this person was standing at the foot of the bed saying these things to us--that's how clear we could hear it. And we really couldn't hear the accompanying guitars or drums, just the rhythmic proclamations that someone, somewhere down the hall really, really wanted to take us to a gay bar.

Eventually Sasquatch had had enough, and he went to pound on their door. Upon seeing a 6 and a half foot sleep-deprived man with crazy hair and scowl, the guy apologized and said they'd keep it down. Sasquatch didn't even have a chance to say, "Look, I know you want to take the entire hall to the gay bar, but we just want to get some sleep."

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Friday, December 25, 2009

A Charming Mistake in Word Choice, Brought to you by BobCurry

Ryan, looking at a Christmas card my parents received: "Who are these people?"

Dad, looking at card himself, which has pictures of a family wake boarding and water-skiing all over it: "I don't know, but they sure do a lot of waterboarding."

I'm not sure that's what he meant, but what a delightful Christmas sentiment! The family that waterboards together, stays together!

Merry Christmas!