Dear Neighbors,

Please sedate the spider monkey that lives in your apartment. I understand that spider monkeys can be rowdy little fuckers, but the high pitched noises that come out of it are at an unacceptable decibel level for an urban apartment building.

I have also been meaning to speak to you about the mouse problem you have. I know it's something you've been rather embarassed to talk about, but I assure you, I am not judging your dirty-ass lifestyle; I live directly below you and put two and two together when I kept waking up to the constant scampering of their little paws. As no one else in the building seems to have such an issue, I can only suggest that you keep crumbs off the floors and get some of that blue poisonous shit that makes them die of thirst. I know from first-hand experience that the live traps do not work. The little bastards have homing devices built into their brains and they end up coming back with more friends.

Finally, I am also becoming increasingly concern with the well-being of your epileptic elephant. It sounds like his seizures are increasing, and I wonder if it may be time to speak to the vet about changing or increasing his medication. It certainly would be a shame for anything to happen to him. The day I don't wake up to his crashing footsteps will indeed be a sad one.

Actually, there is one more thing. It's somewhat touchy, but a prevalent social issue that I believe can be addressed sensitively. Please stop throwing each other down the stairs. As bad as things get, I think you should remember that you chose to make a life together because you love each other. Every time I hear one of you go tumbling and crashing down the stairs I hang my head and say a little prayer that your love for each other might return. Each time one of you stomps off in a fit of anger, pounding the steps, the walls, and the railings as you go, I hold out hope that you will return, forgiving and loving once again. It doesn't matter that you don't hold the front door for me while I have my hands full of groceries, or that you take my laundry out of the washer and throw it on top of the dirty dryer. I'm still there for you. I still want your love to carry on.

I'm glad we had this talk.