Speaking of Too Much Information…


Well, my (maybe British?) downstairs neighbor and his porn star girlfriend are at it again.  Poundin’ the bedsprings, the walls, and my sanity.  

Think about this though, he lives BELOW us….do you know how loud you have to be for people ABOVE you to hear you? And it reaches all the way to the third floor! Which is just actually kind of rude, because they’re giving OUR flat a bad name.  Who would believe that sex sounds would penetrate through TWO floors? Not Upstairs Clapton, that’s for sure.  He tooootally didn’t believe Caitlin when she insisted that  our apartment building’s version of Boogie Nights was being renacted by Downstairs Lothario — and not her.

“Mmmhmmm….” Clapton smiled and nodded knowingly.  See? Rude. 

And, okay, Jenna Jameson, I’m sure you’re having a great time down there, but I don’t buy your theatrics.  He can’t be that good.  Can he? Shudder. Too much information…

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