A letter to the person who lives upstairs from me:

As if listening to you having sex in your squeaky bed wasn't bad enough, I now have to listen to you having sex on your squeaky living room floor while your boyfriend loudly does his version of Office Space's "O" face. Very loudly. Learn to control yourselves, people. Or at least by some WD-40 for yourselves. Or ear plugs for me.

xoxo

Your downstairs neighbor