The One With The Headbangers.

Dear Lover,

I am sitting here at my table.
The windows are open.
It should be lovely.
Only.
Downstairs.
And across the street.
Is a heavy metal bar that has enlists the kinds of bands who must hold a strong hatred towards their tonsils.
And so.
The little birds that chirp during the day.
And drive Dorothy Parker up the wall.
Have been replaced with throat wrenching notes.
That drive me up the wall.
So I get up.
And go to close the window.
But am distracted by Dorothy Parker.
Who has made her bed on my pillow.
In total disregard of the plush blanket I've put out for her across my bed.
So I pivot.
And go over to her.
And shimmy up the blanket to cover my pillow.
Which makes her think I'm wanting to wrestle.
Upon which she flips onto her back and begins to thrash her four legs into the air.
As the sound of the heavy metal band floats through my window.
Singing, "RRRROOOOAAAARRRRR!!!!"

Which is ironic.
Because Dorothy Parker's nickname is Roar.

So.
Of course.
I find it all a little bit too funny.
So fall onto my bed.
And begin to mosh with Dorothy Parker.
And scream along.

Love,
Me.