Danny, if you’re out there, please exercise more discretion when you decide who you go home with at night, lest you pick another screamer. Because you chose my neighbor as your conquest, you are keeping me, and surely everyone you share our tissue-thin walls with, awake at the glorious hour of 4:30 a.m. Even if I didn’t have to wake up at 7, I still would have liked to forego hearing those porn-esque phony cries that are still stuck in my head. I honestly, honestly don’t know how you managed to perform at all, what with the sound of a baby wailing in your ear. No, I didn’t want to listen, but where the hell was I supposed to go? When she screeched out for you to “hurry the fuck up!” I was right there with her.

Tomorrow’s Forecast: I’ve never even met my neighbor, but let me tell you: I will know her voice when I hear it.

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