i'm not sure if the dunce cap jocks who live upstairs from me have gotten a new roomate or not but lately they've taken to playing classic rock really loud and hooting at the end of each song. on the week nights. before, the all male circle jerk of screaming 'YEAHHHHHHH' and 'WOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOO!' and the pounding of sneaker clad cloven hooves on the floor seemed to coincide with the watching of major league sporting events. now it's ozzie, the police and boston that elicits these male bounding squeals of delight. these guys have to be around 21-several generations removed from the hey day of this sort of musical poop. and although i love music i am not about to sit around the mp3 player, screaming in unison at it, with a bunch of repressed homos. they're probably waving their little fists in the air but i just can't venture too far into the visuals. it's just too fucking gay. my torties are young and impressionable and this is just the sort of thing that's destroying the cultural and moral fabric of this country- laying waste to the youth. boston? sorry but nothing could make boston retroactively hip.
if those torties acquire baseball caps and an insatiable desire to wail along to' roxanne' on a tuesday night after 10pm they're going right back to the street.
on top of this new horror , they park the cars mommy and daddy gave them like girls. within 20 feet on the curb would be helpful, mary. and they not so much walk down their front stairs as heave themselves from the top one and crash into their front door. they have twice knocked the fixtures that hold my hallway book shelves up straight out of the wall. this was the sort of crap i had to deal with for 7 years living in allston and at least they didn't find rush profound.
they fucking clap after songs..ok.. they're up there now clapping at their stereo...TOGETHER. that's a nanosecond away, my friends, from interesting window treatments and gay marriage...