Friday, August 29, 2008

Earplugs Please!

12:00am . . .

I have been hearing the noises for the past three days. It echoes upstairs through the thin floorboards and cheap indoor/outdoor carpet in my bedroom. The vibrations wake me from a restless sleep as I crawl from under the warm covers to see what is going on. My feet hit the bottom squeaky step, a flashlight whipping its bright beam through the dark rooms, as the sound suddenly disappears. The bathroom, the livingroom, the linen closet, all is quiet. When entering the kitchen, my light brightens the counter as Marie winces at the offensive disturbance to her cat dreams. Donny - the second cat - comes over to rub my leg as he does his raspy meows thinking it is chow time: Meow - food - meow - food now -meow - you can’t go back to sleep without feeding me - meow.

But I do make my way back upstairs, shaking my head thinking that perhaps the sound had been a leftover dream fragment.
1:00am . . .

The noises are back. Music. Some ignorant bar-hopper is blasting his car radio in the hopes that this will deter any cops from arresting him for drunk driving. I wait for the music to fade away down the street but for some reason it is sticking around here. Maybe the neighbors are having a wild party and forgot to invite me. I hurry to put on my nightgown before going over to the bedroom window and sliding the pane up. Next door, the neighbor is pushing her own window open and sticking her head out the window. Before I can say anything she shouts, "Can you turn down your radio? My husband has a colonoscopy scheduled for tomorrow and needs his rest."

From in their bedroom I hear her husband moaning, "Play the Death March for me."

They are right. With my head stuck out the window I can hear the music coming from my own house. Wondering if I have some disco-dancing burglars in the house, I grab the mace and head downstairs. I hit the bottom squeaky step. The music stops. My search through the house turns up nothing but one eye-wincing cat and her buddy scratching at the cupboard door wanting his shrimp and tuna late night snack from the silver can.
2:00am . . .

I did not go back to sleep. I am waiting at the middle of the staircase, listening carefully. I have the mace and flashlight sitting in my lap when the music starts to play again. And there are disturbing voices singing to it. Carefully, I avoid the bottom step and hurry down the hall. I peek around the corner and become shocked to the core at what I found. But they have spotted me. I hear them scrambling toward me as I try to run, accidently dropping the mace and flashlight in my panic. I almost reach the stairs when I feel something smack into my head. The house goes even darker as I fall toward the floor.
9:00am . . .

Right now I am typing this post with my nose. My hands are tied to the chair. Please send help! I am a prisoner in my own home with my captors passed out on the floor after their wild night. I cannot take their torture anymore. They have been singing "The Osmonds Greatest Hits" for the past seven hours while sipping on dairy creamers and smoking on some green leaves they call, "nippy." I am sure my mind will crack if I have to go through another night of this. Yet if my end comes before you arrive, I want everyone to know what my captors look like. I was able to take their picture with the computer’s webcam.

Please make my karoke kitties, Marie and Donny, stop singing "The Osmonds."

*Picture courtesy of laughingwolf who also dared me to write a story about it*

*Although I will be blogging for this holiday weekend, I am sure my readers have a better life than my pathetic one. So I am posting Sunday’s story today so everyone can read it. I’ll see everyone on Tuesday. Bring your holiday stories with you. I could use more material to write about*


  1. love it, michelle ;) lol

    [while you crack me another cold one, have one yourself, k, then join me on the floor in your skivvies? :O ]

    ...tunderboomers all around me, atm, they lied about a sunny monday, now they say tuesday... yeah, sure grrrr

  2. Laughingwolf:> Remember, you said to write a story about those cats and so I did. They still freak me out a little, though. Oh, the nightmares:)

    Tunderboomers? Are you sure you need another beer right now? Pace yourself. It will be a looooong weekend. ;P

  3. Heh heh...Donny and Marie huh? I'm almost positive Donny's paw didn't... I mean hand didn't look like that when he touched mine! You've gotta be super talented Michelle to make up a story that goes along with that picture! lol

  4. Whoa-whoa-whoa! Back up, Sandra, and go into some details. Are you saying you met Donny Osmond? When did this happen? What was it like? And did he slip you his phone number and hotel room on a piece of paper?

  5. lol ...not had a single beer for a week or two, thought ye may wanna share?

    course i recall, i'm da wuff, no? :P

    tunderboomers, quaint term for thunderstorms i picked up since moving from the west coast to the east ;)

  6. if you get an email from 'sinner1man', do with it as you will... just know it's from me :P

  7. laughingwolf: Don't worry, I won't bogart the beer. Plenty for everyone!

    A west coast thang? Well, that explains it. I've never been there. I've been an east coast girl all the way.

    Oh, I got the email and knew it was from you. It had "laughingwolf" written all over it. Well, not completely, but in the sender line it did. lol :}


    I love your explanation for why drunkards turn up the volume in their vehicles...

  9. Adaora: Can there be any other explanation? You would think they would turn the radio DOWN so as not to be spotted. But noooo! They turn up the volume, wake the neighborhood, and lots of phone calls to police. hahaha! It never fails.

  10. Yay! I found you again. I somehow lost your link when I updated my list. For shame, I know.

  11. Natalie: Haha! The same thing happened to me once. 'Tis quite all right! :)

  12. laughingwolf:O You just HAD to slide that one in, didn't you?

  13. Hey, love the new look! It looks like my living room! :D

    Sorry to disappoint you on Donny, I went to his concert and he touched my outstretched hand, nothing more! And then I went straight from him to Steve Perry of Journey! And I'm not going to tell you if that was something more! lol

  14. I haven't seen your livingroom... so I'll take that as a compliment since I'm sure that if you post fantastic photos on your blog than your taste in decor must be the same. *fingers crossed*

    Ah, I remember now! You posted about the Donny/hand thing. My god! My mind sure can wander sometimes.

    From Donny to Steve? I hope you broke Donny's heart gently when you told him the news.

  15. LOL! yeah cats do party at night!

    the colonoscopy was a great touch.

  16. Chris: I think it's the paw prints on the ceiling and lampshades on their heads that busts them every time. How can anyone ignore that?

    I wondered who was going to say something about the colon-thing. Shame on me. I have no idea where I pulled that idea from...

  17. I don't know how I missed this one last year. Great!

    The Osmonds Greatest Hits. Yikes! One of my first girlfriends was heavily into The Osmonds. Needless to say, it didn't work out.

  18. Suldog: I came up with the Osmond idea after seeing their talk show on tv. Now that was something to watch.

    No, you don't seem the type of guy into the Osmonds. Maybe the Ramones, but not the Osmonds.


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