Related Posts with Thumbnails

Monday, November 12, 2007

Public Service Announcement: Rhythm is a dancer, but revenge is a bitch.

Ahhh, college kids today have it way too easy. They just have no idea the kinds of things we had to do back in the day (the 90's!) to get revenge on offensive neighbors. I mean, we had to really formulate a plan, be smart about it, you know? Think. Discuss. Experiment. THEN retaliate. There were late-night meetings involved at secret locations under the cover of darkness...

These days all you'd have to do to get back at an offensive neighbor would be to buy this CD:



The Revenge CD is a great way to get back at those noisy neighbors! Earplugs supplied for your listening pleasure.

Tracks include: Drill; Party (At Least 200 People); Train; Drum (Played by a Child); Inhuman Screams; Walking (High Heels); Domestic Squabble; Doors Banging; Bowling; Unhappy Dog; Practicing Scales (Violin); Traffic Jam; Garbage Truck; Phone Ringing; Ball Game; Pigeons; Spring Cleaning



This CD is of the "Give them a taste of their own medicine!" philosophy; and that is exactly why it's flawed. It's just too easy. Most of the sounds on this CD are likely what the purchaser is looking to retaliate against (and therefore probably won't offend the offenders); and the others are just weak! Pigeons? Spring cleaning? Please! I'm surprised their isn't a track called, "Blinking".

My floormates and I came up with a simple & effective fix we used during finals week in college when some inconsiderate jerks lived one floor up from us. We weren't bookworms by any stretch of the imagination, but there comes a point when it's just time to either study quietly or sleep. It was, after all, finals week-- and after an entire semester of blowing off classes, we had a lot of cramming to do.

After 3 nights of listening to them party with what must have been an entire troupe of Cirque de Soleil performers, we'd had enough and decided to pull out the big guns. We gathered our books together, put the below song on repeat, at the highest volume possible with the bass booming; locked our door and headed to the library for 6 hours.

You might listen to this song and think, "Hey, I used to love that one! It's not so bad!" but just imagine being subject to it over and over, hundreds of times, for 6 hours. Water torture would be a more attractive option, trust me. When we got back to our rooms, there was an apology note on each of our doors, and we never had trouble with them again.


Rhythm is a dancer, indeed. Revenge however, is a bitch.

5 comments:

Sauntering Soul said...

Oh my gosh, I need to hang out with you. My neighbors upstairs are AWFUL. I've complained to their faces, I've written them a letter, I've complained to my landlord multiple times, and yet they still bug the heck out of me. This past Friday night/Saturday morning, they woke me up around 4:15 a.m. playing loud music and I think they were wrestling. My pictures were rattling on the walls. They finally went to bed at 6:00 a.m. I got up at 8:30 and blasted Love and Rockets as loud as I could stand it for 2 and a half hours until I had to leave for a family event. I haven't heard a peep out of them for the past 2 days. Could it have worked?

House of Jules said...

Hopefully it worked for you, but if not; the key is to leave some terrible music on AFTER YOU LEAVE YOUR APARTMENT for hours at a time. I promise, they'll take the hint!

Buy yourself some earplugs, too. You can get them at any drug store. They'll help drown out the sounds when you can't blast retaliatory music, like when you're trying to sleep. Good luck!

kat said...

So I read this post yesterday and I did not comment? How rude ^^. Anyway I meant to say "fair f***s to you and your buddies in college! Six hours of Rhythm is a dancer???? Killer, I love it. Also thanks for the video. That was a trip down memory lane. I remembered this was the song during which I first kissed my then boyfriend...

Anonymous said...

You, my friend, are an evil genius. That is why I love you.

House of Jules said...

E-ville, like the froo-its of the dev-ille. (from "So I married an Axe Murderer").