Kalah Allen

I live in a nice quiet neighborhood. I like it. Did I mention it was quiet? Well it is, or rather, it was. You are killing me with your slide whistle. I know you're only like two-and-a-half-feet tall, but dude... a girl can only take so much. Since the big people in your house just moved you into the neighborhood maybe you need some pointers? Here it is: Your entire family recreates right outside my room. I know, your shitty piece of property is parceled that way, but I am on the second floor and I can hear everything you do and then some. (Like that time you had to go potty but couldn't hold it. Remember that? That was funny.) Did I mention I myself am quiet? Well I am. I am cool with all of the small-people noises you make—for the most part—but this hour-long whistle fest is too much. I don't have the balls to tell you to stop. You're small and you scare me. But please, if you can read, and you see this, I am begging you, no more slide whistle... or at least use the sliding part more often.—Anonymous