Dear Upstairs Neighbor

First of all what up?
Second of all could you think about not being a douche sometimes?
I mean...I realize that you really like your music and all, but don't you think that when I'm trying to do important things like watch the Harry Potter movies, one of the various television shows I repeatedly watch because I can't afford cable or...you know...sleep, that I don't want to feel your sub woofer pulsate in every orifice of my body. And when I bang on the ceiling with a wooden samurai sword that I keep by my bed in case there's a zombie-pocalypse to get you to shut the hell up, that doesn't mean that when you get home from IHOP or some bar that you can let the tunes blare again. Even in the rare occasion that you listen to something that doesn't sound like someone painted pictures of rabbits doing backflips using all the colors of the wind onto an old VHS tapes of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, I still generally don't want to hear it.
Granted our floors are the approximate thickness of shopping cart wheels made out of wood, so there is virtually no insulation, but that's not enough of an excuse for your shenanigans that generally succeed in pissing me off to no end.
Also the other morning when you were yelling at whoever left their alarm clock set causing it to try and wake the missing person up for 2 and a half hours, I could hear you yelling better than the person who was clearly not sleeping through their alarm clock because they weren't there. Also you have done that at least 27 times and it never gets any less annoying. Modern day alarm clocks are scientifically engineered to pierce through every conscious and unconscious thought until it makes it's presence known.
But I have some good news for you upstairs neighbor...if we ever meet outside of the apartment I won't immediately hate you because I have no idea what you look like due to the fact that I have always been to scared to go tell you to shut the hell up. Not that I am scared of you...mainly just the entire confrontation. Also I won't be living there much longer so you might have a whole empty apartment to used as a sub woofer box. At least until someone new moves in. I really hope it's a huge MMA fighter who will promptly kick your ass at the first note of bad music. I also hope he steals your dog Maddison and takes care of it better than you do.
P.S. remember when you got the new Kid Cuddi album and you listened to "Day and Night" on repeat for at least 5 times in a row?
You do?
Yeah...that sucked!