Why Do Drunken Hooligans Always Yell Outside My Apartment?

First of all, I'd like to clear up something from yesterday. When I said all men play with their balls, what I meant was that all men adjust their balls. Sorry for the mix-up. On to the daily column.

Why do drunken hooligans always yell outside my apartment? I realize I live in a college town, but this is freakin' ridiculous. Every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday night, from 9 p.m. to 3:30 a.m., all I hear are fat, drunken college guys yelling intelligent things like "Whoooooooooooooo!" and "Youse a farfenshnort aaaaablartphapha!"

Why couldn't they scream brilliant and perceptive things, like, "Hey! Like most freshwater mussels, unionids feed by straining microscopic material out of the water with their gills! Although unionids can tolerate natural levels of sediment or silt in the water, man releases much more than what these animals can survive! If the silt does not suffocate them outright, the high levels may interfere with respiration and cause the death of glochidia in the marsupia! Such silt enters the water from agricultural and construction runoff! In addition to silt, agricultural runoff often contains herbicides, pesticides, and fertilizers that stress or kill unionids! We should, like, do something or some shit like that!"

Seriously, never have I been so drunk that I couldn't even speak a correct sentence in English. Okay, except for that one time. Okay, except for those many times during select parties in college. Okay, I was too wasted to talk during every party I ever had at my house.

Nevertheless, all of you in attendance were wasted too. Were you one of the ones who peed in the bathtub at my house? Exactly. God, I hate you.

Anyway, regarding this drunken hooliganism outside my window: I've started yelling back at them. Yes, come 3:30 a.m. you'll find me screaming things out the window. Things like, "Shut up! Shut up! I'll kill you, you fat UW-La Crosse freshwater-mussel-killing bastard!" And so on, and so on.

Granted, the next night that I don't have work the next day, I'll be out there drinking and shouting with them, but that's beside the point. They should be quiet when I'm trying to sleep.

There are so many other things drunken hooligans could do while Paul is sleeping. They could quietly vandalize a building, or quietly urinate into the open sunroof of someone's car, or quietly mug an old woman, beating her until she collapses and dies, making sure to muffle the screams from her mouth so she doesn't wake me up.

They can do whatever they want, as long as it's quiet. I know I sound like a young mother of twins right now, but I'm really sick of waking up to people calling each other "homos" and "flaky butt pirates" outside my window. I don't even have the space to explain why they shouldn't use those prejudiced terms in the first place.

The last thing I can possibly think of to do is firebomb the place where they all hang out. It's a bar called "Brothers". You may have heard of it. There's one in Minneapolis and another in Eau Claire, as well as many other branches in other cities. It's where all the stupid frat boy jocks and ditzy sorority girls hang out.

La Crosse has an excellent bar scene, other than "Brothers". There's an old-school bar called "The Helm" (if you're from the Twin Ports, think "The Anchor" with a balcony), a cool pseudo sports bar called "John's", a pothead bar called "Yesterdays", a hippie brew pub called "Bodega Brew Pub" (also known as the "Pearl St. Brewery"), a harder rock place called "Buzzard Billy's", and even a country bar where the dumb bastards let me make fun of them without kicking my ass. Yes, it's a fine town, if not for "Brothers".

Would anyone notice if it were gone? Only the stupid frat boys and their bimbos. I say torch it. Of course, I wouldn't really do such a thing. As most of you have probably already figured, screaming out my window at 3:30 a.m. is something I rather enjoy. It's a love-hate sort of thing.

That's about all for today. Remember that you only have until Friday to get 30 people to this site, otherwise I'll plant Celine Dion music on random pages in PSHFP. Yesterday, we only had seven visitors or so. I'm inviting people, and you should too. Trust me, we'll all be sorry if you don't invite some people. You can do so below.

Make sure to be here tomorrow, when Daily Ramblings asks the question, "Have you ever dreamed you were eating a marshmallow, and when you woke up your pillow was gone?" Yes, the column is getting that lame.