I Hate My Life and My Neighbours

My neighbours seem to have rented (oh my god, please let it be a rental and not a permanent feature) a karaoke machine and are at this very moment torturing me with their bad, bad singing. Which I suppose is karma for all the bad, bad singing I inflicted upon my friends in Tokyo. It just doesn't seem fair. At least my friends came out to the karaoke with me knowing what was in store. It's not like I just showed up at their house and made with the maniacal warbling. Which now that I think about it sounds like a lot of fun. But that's neither here nor there! I may have to kill myself. And if I go down, I'm taking them with me.