<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d11870821\x26blogName\x3dguirilandia\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://guirilandia.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttps://guirilandia.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-686008427781938216', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Open letters

Dear Swedish speculator,

Please stop renting the apartment next door to drunken Brits with relationship problems.

I have nothing against Brits, or drunkenness in general, but the combination of the two within a codependent relationship is not a pleasant thing.

Kind regards


Dear drunken Brits,

After waking up at 4 AM to the first of five or six door slammings, my girlfriend and I were subjected to the sordid details of your relationship - which were easily heard through the one foot concrete wall which divides our master bedrooms. We all have problems, who am I to deny that?! But please don’t SHOUT about it, even if you are in a foreign country and you don’t care what Spaniards think. You never know who might be listening.

And dude, when you make your point and slam the door as you’re storming out of the apartment, don’t come back and whine after 5 minutes, it just looks bad. You have to hold out. You have to show resolve.

Just my two céntimos


Dear neighbor across the alley,

I’m happy you could finally move to the big city and be as freaky as you want to be. I really am. But please stop playing your crappy house mix CD every morning. I’m sure you got it free with your Telepizza last summer as part of a promotion, and I’m happy you actually like it. It’s not often that a commercially-oriented compilation CD of Spanish canciones de verano (that have been remixed with standard house beats) finds a genuine fan, so count yourself as one of the lucky few. Just don’t blast it, it hurts my brain. And don’t prance around in your underwear while listening to it. That looks REALLY bad.

Thank you

PS: Actually, I take the prancing around comment back. Do it. I'm all for it. Just draw the curtains next time and refrain from blasting that infernal CD.


Here’s a thought. Do you think the Telepizza guy listens to those promotional Telepizza CDs while delivering pizza? Could he be obligated to listen to it as part of a bonus scheme? Could my neighbor, in fact, be a Telepizza guy? These thoughts consume me at work.