Noisy Trash

My upstairs neighbors, The Stompersons, are driving me batshit crazy. In addition to their general trashy ways, they have guests staying with them. There must be four children and three adults up there. Nonstop running, jumping, moving furniture around, and banging all through the night.

They arrived Thursday, and I don't think they've gone to bed yet.

I have visions of sawing a hole through my ceiling and their floor and then sticking my head through the hole a la Jack Nicholson in the Shining and screaming "Here's Johnny!" Followed by a sound fatal beating.

I have collected a lovely dirt pile of theirs down on my deck. Potato chip crumbs, cigarettes, matches, childrens' toys. And around 2:30 someone decided they didn't want their drink anymore so they poured it down through the slats of their deck to my patio.

Whatever happened to the good old days when mothers would drown their children?