Dear Neighbor,

Shut that obese fat biatch up – I can hear her from 3 miles away!  I do not care if you throw your crazy parties, but seriously, who are these people you are inviting? I am so lucky that you do not live in my apartment complex so I do not have to see you every day, Mr. Wanna-Be Brad Pitt (only much heavier and unattractive).   Sadly, my apartment faces your backyard, yuk.  You have this dumpy house, with your ghetto white trash decorations and you somehow manage to find the ugliest people in Los Angeles to party with…  You look like you fit more in Iowa than Los Angeles.

Take off your stupid knock off Versace sun glasses; you do not look good in them anyway.  A Hawaiian shirt?  Are you kidding me?  Since when did those come back in style?  Please tell me you are filming some movie ala Shallow Hal set in the 80’s, cause that would be the only thing I could think of to explain what is going on right now at your house.  

Whoa! I did NOT just see a Twinkie!  That is so classic – an obese woman eating a Twinkie…  Wow, you really do know how to pick them!  What next Pabst Blue Ribbon?  Oh, now you’re being loud… drunk already, party boy?  Good maybe that will help you finally get laid tonight?  Not that your “hot” party chicks weren’t already willing…

Is that your new girlfriend laughing, or did she smash a dog?  Either way, someone call 9-1-1, that sound cannot be something good.

Listen, do me a favor, go back into your little dump that you call a house, shut all your windows and doors, start your gas oven and light a match.

-Annoyed