The other day, I woke up at five thirty in the morning to the sound of someone singing opera. Badly.

You think to yourself, what an absurd way of waking up. And then you think to yourself, will this guy ever shut up?

Apparently, I wasn't the only one thinking that thought. Others were more heartfelt -- and vocal -- in their disapproval. Some idiot decided that the best way (keep in mind: 5:30 AM) to hush our resident opera-singing guy would be to blast the stereo. At, yes, half past five in the AM. In return, Mr. Opera started banging a piano. Not playing. Banging. At least I think it was him. Who else would have a piano?

And then, after awhile, someone -- I don't know who; could be the people with the stereo, could be Pavarotti, could be someone completely different -- began playing the electric guitar. We're closing in on six in the morning. Not the best time to rock out, methinks. Not when I'm desperately trying to catch some shut-eye.

Twenty minutes, half an hour later, it's quiet again...for a few moments, until the crew working on the building showed up and started making noise.

Neat-o. I was not a happy puppy, lemme tell ya.

Oh, and tomorrow I get the game I've been waiting for all year. Sweeeet. What is it? You'll have to wait for my review to find out. But feel free to take a guess.  ¶ 23:46