Genderidiocity

As I mentioned before, I am currently working at the BMW-Plant in Munich, which is kind of a new condition for me. Mandatory presence of my tired early morning self had not bothered me since I left school, so after two weeks now my body (and mind, mind you) is still acclimatizing to the new condition of having to get out of the house twenty to eight (I know it’s not that late), which would be a hell of a lot easier, was it not for the English speaking bitch of the appartment next door who needs to throw parties in several consecutive nights, singing “We’re not gonna take it” (Oh, the irony :rolleyes: ) until three o’clock in the morning.

What the fuck is wrong with you people that you don’t realize, how much you are annoying your neighbors and floor-mates, if you practice singstar with your drunk buddies at times where any songbird refuses to make as much as a sound out of respect to his fellow singers and the god damn rest of the world? It’s darkest night, so shut up! Or at least keep the noise at a civil level.

As you must be intentionally having your conversations at a level which (be it voluntarily or not) includes the next three floors in any direction, I happened to witness one of many statements of yours, which I would like to comment on. No, my dear, your boyfriend is definately lesbian. No decent man would ever put up with as much dumbfuckery as came out of your appartment last night. That leads us to the undeniable conclusion that you man (ha!) is a pussy. Thus he is, being your boyfriend and all, obviously attracted to … uhm … other members of the human population (in your case highly debatable I might add!) of the same non-masculine variety. Hence lesbian.

Which is perfectly fine, we are all grown-ups and everyone is entitled to his (or her) own sexual fulfillment, but, please, keep it to yourself! I don’t want to know. Especially not at 2 a.m. Thank you.