There’s a party going on next door, has been since about three this afternoon. Loads of paunchy drunken former fratboys wandering around with their shirts off, borderline anorexic sorority wives in tow. They’ve been drinking all afternoon, the kids are in bed, and they’re still screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs.
I like my neighbors, but I’m about one hour away from getting the fucking hose out.
I’m pretty sure I can handle a group of fatass stumbling drunk fratboys.
Especially when they’re wet.
If you type in “frats suck” into Google, this is the kind of site you can find.
Kindred spirits.