The Hogfuckers in the Next Room Need to Quiet Down

Greetings readers!
I realize it's been quite some time since I last updated the Plague - at first I chalked it all up to having far too much on my plate to handle in terms of coursework and academics to be able to do proper upkeep on the Plague. But today, at exactly 6:45 am, I realize that, in fact, it had nothing to do with my being busy. Rather, it had everything to do with the fact that I have been content for the past few months, and that few things have gotten me to the point of excessive irritation that I felt it warranted a Plague update. Little did I realize, until this morning, however, when I had the everliving shit irritated out of me by some inconsiderate cunts that my madness is fueled by pure, unbridled, frothing rage.
Readers, allow me to state for the record that I am an ornery drunk. Many of you by now are well aware of this fact. And as I'm sure you all know, nothing pisses a drunk off like being woken up two hours after stumbling into bed in a drunken stupor to sleep off the effects of a $7 bottle of wine and two DiSaronno chasers. With that in mind, allow me to detail the state of my current predicament.
Currently, it is 6:58 am, and I am writing from the public workstation in the 2nd floor lounge, where it is supremely serene with nary a sound but the humming of a CPU fan. Why am I here you may ask, instead of tucked away, sound asleep in my comfortable bed? Well, it all started after a night of drinking and debauchery - a good friend of mine fell into something of a state of alcohol-induced Rapture and felt the need to embrace the Porcelain God in all His might and grace. So enraptured was he, however, that his moment of, er... bliss, occurred prematurely, and outside the temple of the Porcelain God. Mainly, my man seems to be a fellow who worships personally in the home. Unfortunately, his dorm room, like most, was unequipped with the proper facilities to handle his vigorous gastro-intestinal "Hail Marys," and was left in a state of unusability for the rest of the evening as we let it air out. This resulted in something of a chain-reaction of room shortages, leaving him and his lovely lady (who had stayed the night to take care of him) without a place to stay for the night. Naturally, I offered the unfortunate couple my room for the night, as I too had a drunken charge that needed to be taken care of who was probably going to be up much later, walking off his own drunken bliss. I figured that when he finally decided to go to sleep, sharing his room for the night would be no problem as it is a frequent occurrance (for those of you who needed clarification and update, yes I am now also dating a young man in my dorm named Griffin), and would furthermore be the responsible thing for me to do to make sure he slept soundly through the night without vomitorial incident.
This of course brings me to the featured "Hogfuckers in the Room Next Door." I do of course, understand that this implicates the very person responsible for keeping the Plague on the internet thanks to his server, and I do sincerely regret needing to group him in with the rest of his asshole friends, but I digress. Allow me to first explain the rooming situation which brings me to such a state of ire: my dear boy Griffin resides in the small half of *joy* my ex-boyfriend. Now when I say "small half," I do mean that the state of rooming in our dorm is such that Griffin's room is actually attached to, and part of my ex-boyfriend's room. The only barrier keeping the two rooms separate is essentially a large portable closet that's been pushed over to cover the doorway in between - a token, but insufficient inasmuch as a hymen is insufficient in the job of making things baby-proof. This, of course, means virtually *no* sound protection whatsoever, thus causing the need for certain rules of etiquette to be abided by. Mainly, to keep the noise-level down during reasonable non-waking hours. By dorm constitution, this is defined to be from midnight to 8, though it's typically not adhered to until the hour of 2 am, which is honestly fine by me.
However, 6:30 am *CLEARLY* does not fall into the acceptable range of times to have a fucking party in one's room. Especially knowing two drunks are trying to sleep in close proximity. To add insult to injury, of course, the party was a *twinkie* party no less - implying the presence of some serious loathe-inducing wankers doing what they do best - act felinoidal and masturbate to the sound of their own voices. Now some of you may have heard mention of the assholes my dear ex-boyfriend keeps close company with; among these early-morning assholes, of course, is one person in particular, with whom my friend Carsten has had quite a bit of trouble with as of late also regarding the issue of noise. The nature of these troubles, of course, were on Carsten's end - merely in that he kept waking up every morning after a night of rowdy S&M to find some note scrawled on his whiteboard from some prude who dares to have the gall to call herself "floor mommy" bitching about the noise level coming from his room (of course, this self-same prude is the one who goes around showing any unfortunate not quick enough to run away the gauzy seethrough top she "made herself" for last year's NELA fetish fleamarket, so go figure). Of course, while Carsten may not have had the sufficient appropriate music to cover up the wide range of noises emitted from behind his door, he nevertheless attempted to cover it up, and furthermore didn't have a roommate to bother. So, naturally, mommy was there, along with the rest of the choad-warriors at 6:30 am, wanking about port-blocking and port-scanning.
I'd debated starting to have loud sex at that point, or at least make some serious smacky-smack noises along with repeated yells of "Yes! Yes! Right in the ear! I love it!" but I realized that this would entail having to get turned on with the presence of everybody I could possibly hate in my immediate living situation sitting merely three feet away from me on the other side of the wall, and honestly the thought alone was just killing my libido.
So instead, when I found a moment in their conversation during which someone was whining "waah... the network's broken! Fix it!" I yelled out "Can't you clowns fix your own damn internet?! And while you're at it, could you keep it down a little?"
You'd have thought that they would've gotten the hint. But of course, as people have always said, I live with a truly special selection of socially inept people. And as I've found, truly inconsiderate camel-toed shitheads (even the men) who just don't grasp the fundamentals of having to live in close quarters. Even after wandering out to go to the bathroom and asking them on the way back "Is it normal to have parties at 6:30 am?" I was met with a reply of "yes" from floor mommy, and they continued merrily along with their verbal masturbating about elven dungeons and port-scanning and port-blocking.
Now, don't get me wrong: I love network discussions as much as the next RCC, in fact, that shit is really my cup of tea. Hell, I even don't mind loud parties during normal hours - I do it all the time. But at 6:30 am, loudly, when I'm trying to sleep in the next room, unfortunately makes me want to take someone's twiggy girlfriend and shove her head up her boyfriend's ass to show him what port-blocking *really* means. I think in this case it'd be two ports at once, which is an win-win situation for me, as it would succeed in both shutting up her high-pitched giggle for good and would keep him occupied elsewhere for the rest of the night trying to dislodge her from his colon.
So here I am, frothing and irate - sleeping in the lounge tonight, attempting to first rid myself of all this excess rage. At this point, I believe I've expended the majority of rage that's keeping me from sleeping, like a caffeinated buzz. But before I go to sleep, I think I'm going to leave the following note on floor mommy's door regarding the noise:

"Complaint to be lodged regarding the noise,
At around 6:41 am this morning, I was attempting to sleep off a headache and take care of another potentially headache-ridden drunk. The noise made in the large half made it impossible to sleep, and due to circumstances I could not merely return to my room and fall asleep there, so instead I yelled through the wall "could you keep it down?" and was not obliged in a timely fashion. I came by a few minutes later and implied again that I was trying to sleep, but was still unable to because of the continued noise. This is unacceptable and it will not happen again in the future.
Sincerely,
Kim"

Apparently, according to some, this is more polite than any of the notes that have appeared on Carsten's door.

Further bulletins as events warrant.

mood: crankier than hell
music: the sweet sound of silence