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mp3, wscr(feat. snoop dogg, rock and roll, united states, kurupt f/ butch, 50 cent song lyrics, bloggers, kid rock, teachers, sex education, It was so loud that I was legitimately worried that my air conditioner was going to fall out of my window, shook from the window pane and dropped on the unsuspecting asshole diners below.This fucking is how fucking murder happens, my friends. Jim Norton has a great bit in his stand-up routine in which he says something to the effect of "There is no anger like the anger of a person kept awake by another person's snoring." I have often dreamed of stealing this bit fucking and building fucking a list of Excusable Reasons for Murder. For example, if you were trapped in a hotel room on vacation with a buddy who snored so loudly that he kept you up all night and was ruining your trip, a jury might not convict you for murder if you took his life on night three at about 4am.And if snoring is on that list, motorcycle engine-revving is up there. I swear to you that if I had had a firearm in my apartment last night, at the very least I would have gone down there and shot it into the air. I was angrier than I've been in months and possibly ever.And
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Is there any real mechanical need to rev the engine of a motorcycle for a solid ten minutes, shaking every windowpane within mp3 three miles and killing nearby small animals with the intense noise and reverberations?Last night, there was some sort of motorcycle gang eating in the Little Italy restaurant I live above. Actually, it was more like some sort of motorcycle festival, because they weren't just in that restaurant, but all over the place. I'm mp3 not sure mp3 what type of motorcycle gang/club/group says, "Hey, why don't we all go out for a nice alfresco dinner in Little Italy tonight?", but I digress.And so what I and the other residents of Little Italy were treated to were five solid hours of apartment-shaking/night-ruining engine revving, courtesy of these bikers. I can't articulate how infuriating this was. All night long I sat in the apartment, hearing (and feeling) the vroom-vroom-vrooooom of the engines, filling with an unimaginable rage.
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