Oh my multi-tempered patience

Note: to the person constantly practicing the mariachi trumpet in my apartment complex while I try to work, know that I am only a man, and men can only contain their frustration for so long before they are forced to write a righteous blogger entreaty that you will never read because you can't take your puffy cheeks away from that trumpet's brass blowhole long enough to go to a computer long enough to find your way through the entire internet before finding my lame blogspot page that nobody not even my friends know about so how would you know about it, you wouldn't. But please stop. please. stop with the ear-poop.