It's nights like these that make me want a fire-hose and tear gas

It's a sweltering friday night in Rochester. Today was uncomfortably hot & humid, reaching the upper 80s. In late-mid september for christ's sake. After school I returned to the apartment and proceeded to lie around and sweat alot. The god-damned property management made everyone take their a/c units down on the 15th so there was utterly no way to cool it down and it consequently turned into a god-forsaken sweat-box.

It's turned into a hot, uncomfortable night (shocking, right?) and all the animals are out for their last summer fling. I live across the street from a strip of bars and clubs and it's a complete mad-house out there tonight, teeming with drunken, brain-less neanderthals trying to get laid. Although alot of them probably are getting laid and I'm the one sitting in my apartment in front of the computer. I can't shut the window since it's so fucking hot, and all the racket from the street is drifting up here. Shouting, music, awful karaoke singing, car horns, revving cars and Harleys, and steak-heads hollering and grunting at the top of their lungs, which I can only assume is a part of their primitive, addle-pated mating ritual. Crotch-rocket motorcycles zipped by, pathetically gunning their 1.3 litre Briggs & Stratton lawn-mower engines. At one point a pig actually raced by, siren & lights ablaze. Imagine that... Highland section cops doing something besides fucking with people. Even now I can hear hordes of inebrious imbeciles butchering a Neil Diamond song in the rancid shack of debauchery across the street.

I can hear the ass-holes upstairs plugging in an amp. At this hour, I'll march up there and cudgel them with the first bludgeon I can lay my hands on!

Today at school I auditioned for the pit band in the fall musical. I was successful in my endeavours, although I had no real competition. Rest assured how-ever, that if my skills were lacking, they'd hire someone to do it. It'll be a fun 3 credits, a good learning experience, and another gig for the resumé.

A big ol' wall o' rain is on its way, and I wish it would hurry up and get here. It'd be enjoyable seeing all those sots having to run for shelter, and they'd be likely to pack it in and go home, leaving me with quiet so I can sleep. And once the rain comes through, my god-damn joints can stop aching.

Some tool's car just peeled out. I'm considering having Alexander St. peppered with lind-mines on friday nights. On that jolly note I'll leave you. And if you ever come down to Alexander St. late on a friday, keep the noise down, or you're entering a world of pain. A world of pain.