Bottom Dweller.

It's time to introduce a new element of my life into the world of blogging. No, it has nothing to do with my continued aversion for all things MBTA nor does it involve my abhorrence for all food items categorized as condiments. This is a little slice of my home life that I'd like you all to share with me. I would like to open the virtual door into my humble abode and introduce you all to my dear neighbor of Apt. 5, whom I have never met, but would like to tell you about.

Apt. 5 has very diverse interests. For instance, he is a huge fan of talk radio. He loves all this radio and all things talking. Thus, he likely considers the a.m. radio God's greatest gift to earth. He has a special affinity for Howard Sterns and also the Toucher & Rich show on WBCN. Now while I could do without Howard Stern I do love me some Toucher and Rich. Those two idiots, along with Crash Clark and Adolfo are completely hilarious. I highly recommend it. They have a segment where they do drunken Red Sox / Celtics recaps. Hilarious. Anyway, 5's interests don't stop with Boston sports, they include the equally well-respected world of professional wrestling (think WWF). Who doesn't enjoy that, right?

Now you might ask yourself, Self, what else does 5 do with his spare time? Well, I'm glad you asked. He's a very regimented man. He wakes promptly at 6:30 and then goes into the bathroom where he turns the fan on. He exits the bathroom at approximately 7:00 a.m. when he returns to his bedroom to get ready for a day at work. While getting ready for his day, he loves him a little morning talk radio. At the end of his work day, around 5:00 he arrives home from whatever employer he works for in his POS white car, which comes complete with dents, one working tail light and all the latest amenities every car should have, such as a disc man plugged into the tape deck. He goes to bed anywhere between 10:30 and 11:00 and drifts off into dream land listening to his favorite late night satellite radio show.

Now at this point of the post you might be a little bored. You might want a snack or you may want to abandon this site to cruise to Boston.com or Facebook. But for those of you that are perceptive you might wonder how it is that I can tell you all this without having ever met Apt. 5. I know all of this because Apt. 5 might be the loudest, most horrendous neighbor ever to wonder the face of this planet. I know his schedule because he moves about his apartment as if his shoes were full of lead and his hands were covered in oven mitts. He slams everything--doors, cabinets, walls, floors-- and whether he's listening to the TV or his precious GD radio, that sucker is on full blast. ALL. THE. TIME.

This really isn't even the best part though. This is really all just the tip of the ice burg. The real kicker is that this douche snores so loud that I feel like he is sleeping directly under my bed using my dirty laundry as his pillow. It is completely unbearable. I can no longer sleep on my side because the noise created by this man's face goes right through my ear, into the cerebellum and directly into my brain. I think I'd prefer Chinese water torture or paper cuts between each of my fingers given the choice between either and sleeping above 5's bedroom. My sister and I have tried EVERYTHING. The sound generated by this foul beast has defeated ear plugs, head phones and a fan kept on full blast. The summer months were quasi bearable because luckily for us, his air conditioner muffled the ruckus enough to allow us to sleep fitfully. The day that AC came out was among the worst days of my life. It's right up there with the time that my sister made me kiss the carpet at the top of the stairs of my childhood home, which coincidentally, was my dog's favorite place to nap. Imagine your lips covered in dog hair. Moving on.

It has gotten to the point that my sister and I are taking desperate measures in an effort to alleviate the aggravation of living above this man. At one point it was getting to be that I was sleeping out in the living room several nights a week on the couch just so I could try to get a few hours of rest. We typically have to stomp on the floor 3-5 times per evening at various times in an effort to disturb 5 just enough so he chortles himself awake and rolls over. Sometimes this maneuver backfires though like the time he started wailing on the ceiling the other night so much that my bed moved. Oops. In another brilliant move my sister got so pissed at approximately 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning that she took her i-pod, chose the most annoying song she could think of (Gwen Stefani's "Whatchu Waiting For"), put it in her Bose speaker and blared it face down into the carpet for the full duration of the song while she waited in the living room. Meanwhile I was having a heart attack in my bedroom trying to figure out what the Hell was going on. Of course the d-bag was still snoring though at the end of the song so it didn't make a difference whatsoever.

I have contacted my landlord in an attempt to get him evicted but thus far no actions have been taken. I mean how do you tell someone that he has an insufferable snoring problem when you don't even know him? He could have something very very wrong with him which could only be cured by his dying in his sleep. That's awful and I'm not willing to tell him that to his face (yet) or in even in an anonymous note (I failed to mention the fact that I've already slipped several of those under his door over the last year). So what to do? Last night I tossed and turned until 4 listening to the SoundTrack of Apt 5's throat and then slept out on our sofa until my cell phone alarm went off at 7:00.

This is no way to live.