oh no, not me

The apartment I've booked for Toronto (on, like, Wednesday) is described as a "sexy bachelor pad". I'm not a sexy bachelor. I've a bad feeling about this.

I hate living next to students, but I'll give the something - they're joyously predictable. The night always starts with low music, then taxis turning up, followed by door banging/friends shouting at their windows. Move on to gossipy fag breaks outside our houses, then a rousing rendition of Mr Brightside. A bit of crying, a few things knocked over, and then usually down to Coalition at around midnight (though not before arguing about the entry price). Cue them coming home at 4am shouting in the streets and banging into people's cars. They are the worst neighbours I stg.