I know I might be jinxing myself by saying this, but I think Jazzy McGee might be on on Spring Break. After a marathon 10 hour vitriolic, profanity laced, shit talking phone session on Tuesday afternoon/evening, Jazzy has been silent for about 57 hours now. 10 hours of him yelling about how his "fucking outrageous" "fucking ridiculous" neighbors better "back the fuck up", among other hostilities, culminating in him yelling "wake the fuck up! wake the fuck up!", as I laughed myself to sleep with my earplugs in. His negativity has totally turned on him; he was practically crying about how he's sick of it, he hates it, he hates what its making him, he's literally sick to his stomach, he's refusing to leave, he's not leaving, "all my life" blah blah blah. Almost enough to make you feel sorry for him. Except then you remember what an unbelievable asshole he is. And I think I can add idiot at this point. I mean, did he really think he could sustain this level of negativity, without it having serious deleterious effects on his well-being? You reap what you sow, bitch. Learn it. Know it. Anyways, the 1:30 AM "wake the fuck up" shouts were the last noises I've heard. 57 hours and nary a sub-woof, a shout, a woo, an "oh yeah", a "wooeee", a stomp, a dropped or dragged item of 50 pounds or more, a 10 hour pacing session, a 10 hour bitching session. Either one of his other neighbors killed him or had him abducted, or he's on Spring Break. Getting attacked by a shark. Woops - that was a little negative. I guess that's to be expected, when you walk around for 3 days ready to fight.
One more month ... one more month ... I could balance a deviled egg on my nose for longer than that. ahh sweet silence. The concept of having some control over my sonic environment is blowing my mind.