early evening sensory wars.

It's that time. It's the time when my downstairs neighbor gets out the grilling tools, rolls the Weber directly under my windows, pours entirely too much lighter fluid on the coals, and attempts murder by asphixiation.

But tonight I refuse to lie down and pass out like usual. I've cranked up the stereo, and I have turned the speakers to the window, and I have thrown open the sash. There will be battle in the suburbs tonight.