If so, I shifted at the age of about 17 when the twat in the cellblock room next to mine at school blatted Space Cowboy constantly, ocassionally (and rarely) broken by the irksome strains of Sexual Healing.
I wouldn't mind if there was some variety to it. But it's been the same lines over and over and over for the best part of two days. I'm not a music facist. I've many musically inclined friends. Talented musical friends.
Although, I could take Seth's advice. I suppose he might stop if i started banging some pots and pans in time with him. Or even scarier I could do the Willow dance from Wickerman and slap myself against the wall ... That would show the bastard!!
Have you thought of just knocking on his door and asking him if he realises how far his music carries? He doesn't need the amp on to practice basic basslines anyway.
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It was aural hell.
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Although, I could take Seth's advice. I suppose he might stop if i started banging some pots and pans in time with him. Or even scarier I could do the Willow dance from Wickerman and slap myself against the wall ... That would show the bastard!!
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:P
piece of wood against the wall, or floor. hammer. syncopation. usually works.
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Besides, I'm a pitiful soul that needs to vent spleen and the Willow dance seems to be working! ;-)
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Nice Cameltoe!
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