Dearest Neighbor/Cock-Faced Wildebeest Fucker,
I came to London with the intent to visit and support my father while he's staying here to work on a movie. He picked this flat specifically so that I could have privacy and comfort while his family comes to visit. Unfortunately, my window does not open, so when it is stifling hot in my room, I have to turn on my ceiling fan. This is met with, first, a complaint, to which I respond by only turning on my fan in the morning when I'm sleeping, to which that is met with three extremely loud thumps that wake me from my pleasant slumber. Then, when we finally get someone in to fix my window so it will open and I don't have to disturb you with my fan, it opens into what I could only describe as a sound tunnel that connects our windows to each other. Once my window is open, if I talk on the phone quietly with my friends, I receive an extremely loud "SHUT UP" which is likely to have woken our other neighbors. I was unable to respond because my father had pointed out he was going to have to continue living next to you and didn't want to have a problem.
Now, these experiences in themselves are unsettling, but I wouldn't mind it quite as much if the sound tunnel didn't work both ways and I weren't forced to listen to you engaging in the deafening act of coitus with prostitutes every other night. I know they are prostitutes because someone of your age and attractiveness would not be able to enjoy the luxury of "picking up a girl" as it were. I'm not even sure how you are able to get yourself up the stairs every time you come home. You're lucky I'm not PMSing or you might have come home to a giant dick painted on your door.
Thank you for your time and I hope you die from syphilis.