To The Asshat Outside My Window:

Yep, you woke me up. Kudos, I guess. Check that one off on your Dickwad Bingo card.

It's all right though, I understand. It's hard to find something interesting to do at three in the morning. It's not as if the liquor store across the street is open all night, or there's a Denny's in the area. And don't worry, I know sleep isn't even an option--with your IQ, you'd probably just choke to death on your own drool. I totally get why you'd feel the need to hang out under my window shouting profanities at your buddy for nearly an hour, then amuse yourself by trying to wake up "the people in the apartment with the window cracked open, lolz." I even get why your friend sticks around with you, drunk, pill-popping, maggot-brained delinquent though you are: Huge asshole, big mouth... Let's just say I'd be careful about what I drink if I were you.

No, I didn't call the cops. I'm the understanding sort, remember? You would have just run away into the bushes like the scared little rabbit you are, anyway. I'd run too if I'd been stealing and ingesting my mom's hormone supplements. No, instead I lay there and attempted to get on with the sort of things that I like to do at three in the morning: Sleep, not have a headache, etc. Obviously my attempts failed, probably because I'm not quite such a determined and charismatic individual as you. It might have worked better if I had attempted to inflict my sleeping upon the whole neighborhood, but I digress.

Instead of sleeping, I decided to be productive, and come up with something fun I could do to while away the long minutes next time you and your special friend decided to visit. I scratched my head, and I stretched my toes, and I came up with a lot of really fun ideas! Unfortunately, there would probably be legal consequences for offering free, laxative-laced cookies or installing a giant live-capture trap, so I was forced to examine options further down my list. I was planning on going with a giant print of goatse, lit up in my window for all to see, but then I remembered that my husband has a very delicate disposition, so that idea had to go. Besides, I wouldn't want you vomiting on the sidewalk (any more than you already have, at least). After much thought, I finally settled upon a solution I'm sure you will agree is classy, charming, and quite agreeable (much like yourself).

This morning, soon as the sun rises, I shall be paying a visit to the local Goodwill. Specifically, I will be looking for the largest speakers they have (though of course I won't purchase anything under three feet tall, so I may have to turn to Craigslist).

I will install them facing my window. I will wait. I will be ready.

You will come, I know you will. You will be loud, boorish, and utterly obnoxious.

And then, my fine young man-child, I will introduce you to my good friend Mr. Astley.