I know, okay. I'm raining on a million hopes and cowboy dreams, but I hate the Stampede. I hate it. I hate the tarts, I hate the fake cowboys, I hate how everyone is drunk and obnoxious and shoving their stupid free pancakes in my face all the freaking time. I have a lot of rage, okay?
I live on the parade route. Oh, I know what you're going to say. "You chose to live there" or "it's just one day" or "you live downtown and you expect silence? think again, bucko!"
I don't expect silence. I choose to live at that address. And yes, it is one day. One awful effing day that started with some jerk who thought he was funny and in teh Stampede Spirit playing the first four bars of "Do your ears hang low" OVER AND OVER AND OVER for twenty-five minutes. Loudly. AT SIX THIRTY THIS MORNING.
I'm pretty sure that by law, outdoor construction, bally-hooing tomfoolery and other forms of noise pollution can't start until 7:00 am.
I hate it.
1 day ago