Dear ass-hat-
Could you please refrain from using any power-tools before, let's say 9:00 am, on a Sunday morning? Starting your power-sander thing outside my window at 7:30 am on a Sunday morning is not conducive for anything but pissing me the fuck off. I understand that you are busy and may need to get some stuff around the house done, but seriously dude, WTF? I was up till 3:30 last night working on some cool ass science, and four hours of sleep is going to make me one cranky mofo. I mean really, 7:30? On a freaking Sunday.
And, if you were only going to sand-whatever-the-fuck you are for 30 min and then start packing everything up, could you not have waited until a reasonable hour? Really, douchebag, you never show any fucking common courtesy, I understand that and should expect no less from you, but since I have been sitting on the porch with my coffee for the past 30 min (since, for some silly reason-I couldn't get back to sleep with all the buzzing and the whirring and the general cacophony coming from your backyard) you have talked on the phone, paced around, and not done anything but glare my way. Thank you for the wonderful wake-up call. You are right, I had things to do today, so what is an extra hour of sleep anyways, ass-munch.
No love me.
Dear Mr. Dr. Zeek-
Damn you for being able to sleep through a fucking tornado.
I expect a nice dinner tonight.
You sleep-deprived wife...
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