Certainly loud enough that mother seduces son bulletinboard

techno, music cd production, violent, comments, crimes against, it's the motherfucking remix, programming, rate music, bmf wallet, jack straw., board, grunge, bad, alberta, news bias, offensive, bulletinboard, events, t shirthell.com, Well, actually I asked him to have them all shot, but mother seduces son I mother seduces son expected to be interpreted liberally.  What I didn't expect was for them to hide mother seduces son in the flat, creaking the floorboards, but ignoring him knocking on the door.  At least when _our_ downstairs neighbour bangs on our door to tell us to shut the fuck up we have the decency to stop battering the floor with baseball bats - not the bozos upstairs though - they were happy to ignore the door _and_ leave the volume up.And possibly - just possibly, the idea that the people downstairs were upset at them was enough to have them set the CD player to a semi-random track (not Madonna by this time, but some random bland pop-rock track) and leave it on _repeat_.  For an _hour_.  Well, for an hour until I gave up on the idea of sleeping in my own bed and set up the spare bed in the living room.  An idea which I wish I'd had a good hour earlier, when I was still optimistically thinking "Oh well, they're bound to go to bed any minute now."Next
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Certainly loud enough that I couldn't bulletinboard get back to bulletinboard sleep easily.  And when I _did_ manage to tune it out long enough to start sliding slowly towards the black nothingness I was desperately craving, they decided to play the "I don't like the second half of this song, skip to the next one." game.  Then to the next one bulletinboard after another thirty seconds.  Then again.  Then back to the previous one, because "hey!  Doesn't it get better after a bit?  Or possibly not, so skip around looking for a track I do like."Speaking of skipping - there's nothing worse than trying to sleep through a CD that's skipping - just a little bit - every 90 seconds or so.  Every time your brain picks up the tune and starts to flow with it - Bam! it's knocked right off track again.Around this time (after I'd been awake for half an hour) Ed arrived back from the pub, so I manfully sent him upstairs, to negotiate with our neighbours as to what constituted a reasonable volume level. 
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