So. The war came home tonight, as I was forced to defend myself against The Oppressors. They, of course, would be the Fuckwad Neighbors, who apparently have returned from wherever they went (I assume spring break, which reinforces in my head that they're asshole spoiled college students) and proceeded to attempt to bring funk to the walls. Sorry, boys, but plaster and wood and insulation just can't be funkified. I was forced to take extreme measures when my roommate poked his head in my room and asked me to turn down my stereo because he could hear the bass in his room and I told him I wasn't playing any music. Yes, fair children, I launched the electrical assault -- I went to the laundry room and tripped the power for their apartment. I think they got the message. After hearing yelling coming from their place for about three seconds, I put the power back on, which hopefully makes them believe it wasn't a manmade outage. Either way, it was quiet on the Homestead for the rest of the night.