I'm Going to Kill the Guitarist
I live next to a bar. Never had problems before, none. Sometimes on Saturday's you can slightly hear the base, but eh, it's Saturday. Last night some asshole plugged in an electric guitar and started practicing blues around midnight. I don't know where he was, but he might as well been playing in my bedroom. Notice I said practicing, not playing. It's a fine distinction, as playing might have led to rhythm, melodies, enjoyable songs. You know, tolerable. This guy banged his way through nasty guitar twangs, chords, and then he topped it off by tuning his guitar over the course of about 15 minutes.
This guy doesn't know it, but he's going to get promoted to nemesis if he keeps it up. That slot is currently held by the woman who had her dog jump in front of my car to shit in my turn lane. Two Fridays in a row. Such a weird city.
(posted by grant at 5/31/2007)
