Well, on a more practical note, the cheapest and easiest solutiion would be for you to wear eitherearplugs or a headset with your favourite music.
I recently bought a house where I can hear the neighbours through the ceiling, and they can hear me. Together, we’ve decided that I pay a professional to soundproof my ceiling. That’s easier done then soundproofing his floor, as it takes about 15 cm of insulation, and insulating his floor would take the added cost of raising his doors. We will split the cost. Estimated cost are 150 euro’s (so about 170 dollars) per square metre.
But I hear there are many people who have DIY soundproofing that works fine, too.
I used to live in an apartment where I constantly heard my neighbor and his girlfriend getting it on at night. (And he constantly heard me and my girlfriend too, I guess, following that logic.)
The only thing is, his girlfriend made these really fake-ass sounding porno-esque moans (Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!) At least he got to hear real screams coming from MY room!
This same guy also had loud phone conversations where he bitched to his parents about his girlfriend’s mother, and complained about how anti-American all the people in his classes were. ("There was this guy…from ENGLAND…who kept trashin’ Amurrica…I was THIS CLOSE to kickin’ his ass!) His voice sounded like that guy in the pawn shop in Pulp Fiction.
Along those lines, you could tell them that every time you hear them gettin’ it on, you masturbate. That should skeeve them out enough to at least try a little more discretion.
Nope, I’m saying that this neighbor’s girlfriend was probably trying very hard to make him think he was a sex god, but the shrieks and moans sounded very fake.
It would be a very weird way of making fun of me, if that’s what they were trying to do. I can’t imagine that combining sexual intercourse and mockery would be very erotic.
I just flashed back to when my next door neighbor (the RA of my dorm, actually) had a kickass entertainment system and I could always hear Braveheart reverberating through my walls.
And I can’t think of a more disconcerting thing to hear during sex other than Mel Gibson screaming “HOOOOOLD!” :eek:
Oh, and my own story. My room mate (who will remain nameless to protect the guilty) and his girlfriend cohabitate fairly often when she’s in town. No biggie, I usually can’t hear them between their locked door, a hallway, and my locked door with Richard Cheese playing on Winamp.
One morning, about 10AM, I was sitting in my room when I heard the following sounds:
SMACK giggling SMACK more giggling SMACK etc.
I open my door, and see our other room mate (nicknamed KY, but that’s another story) standing in his doorway with a puzzled look on his face. First roommate’s door opens and he’s standing there, freshly dressed, with his half-grin “What now?” look on his face, and after a pause, I commented with:
“On behalf of everyone who lives here… WHAT THE ****?!”
Apparantly she was beating him with a belt while he was trying to get dressed, and found the whole thing amusing. :rolleyes:
In my now wife’s old apartment the couple next door very loud Latin Sex Machines. There were an awful lot of "Ay Papi"s coming through the wall. She was quite good at her vocal stylings and it would have been hot except for one thing. I saw what she looked like. :eek: Took the fun right out of it.
I live right next to (and share a bathroom with) a girl who fucks her boyfriend (also a friend of mine) pretty loudly. My last GF actually heard it before I did, and said the girl sounded like a hungry dog, and she seriously thought “Somebody needs to go feed that dog” before she realized it was a human having sex. And she works in an animal hospital, so she would know!
Anyway, I run a superpowerful window fan in my room every night–I have to to get comfortable, and it happens to also shield me from the sounds of them making like rabbits.
The whole upper floor smelled like rotting fish a couple of days ago, though, and there was no evidence of fish cookery in the kitchen. Freaked me out. I wondered if the girl might need to see a gynecologist. Haven’t smelled that since, though.
Years ago, GrizzWife and I lived in an apartment. The apartment above us was rented by two women.
At ANY hour of the day or night, we’d hear squeak squeak squeak for sometimes better than an hour at a time. Interspersed with a faster rhythym saueekasqueekasqueeka for several minutes at a time.
We said nothing. We did nothing. That is, we made fun of the situation between ourselves. But it wasn’t bothersome enough that we decided that we had to actually DO anything to get them to quiet it down. In hindsight, we oddly never heard any vocalizations.
After a few months, I was walking into the building and, before I got to the door, I heard that familiar squeak squeak squeak. Seems that their window was open. I backed up and looked toward their window.
I could see the top of a woman’s head bouncing in and out of view.
Her ponytail swinging back and forth.
She was quite sweaty.
As it turns out…she was using a stair-stepper exercise machine.
:smack:
I had a thin-wall apartment when I was in Grad School - and a neighbor who was loud. Actually, his girlfriend was loud - I’d hear HER going at it for about ten minutes, building in intensity (including the mandatory head board thumping) until I heard him give out one loud >GRUNT<, then silence. I began to think that maybe she was faking it.
Dude, I think I know them. Seriously. The girl would be all squeaky and happy and “OOH OOH YES OOH” and he was… much, much quieter, to the point of making no sound at all.
I know because I stayed over one night with their roommate. I was just starting to fall asleep when “OOH OOH YES OOH” started. Now, I was good friends with the couple too, and it WAS their apartment, even though the walls were Kleenex thin. As though this had happened countless times, their long-suffering roommate got up, put a box fan in front of the door, and turned it on. The white noise more or less drowned them out.
More or less.
They had downstairs neighbors once too. Every Sunday morning, around nine or ten in the morning, Cher would start playing downstairs. Then thunkathunkathunkathunka.
One of the funniest thing I ever witnessed in college involved people noisly having sex upstairs. The room was above my friends Suzy and Sarah. One late night a couple of us were watching TV with Sarah and Suzy snapped while trying to write a paper or something. “I can’t take this any more” she told us, and grabbed the student directory out of her desk. We sat puzzled as she looked up a number. As soon as someone picked up she say “Hey, you guys are really loud. Could you do us a favor and have sex on the floor instead?” The girl on the other end choked out a reply we couldn’t really make out, and there was dead silence from above after that.
Then we recalled that not only could you look up phone numbers by occupant’s name, you could search by mere room number too
Be sure to use the purely correct form “…like a motherfuck!”
It’s funnier. Anyone who doubts it can read my dissertation on the metrics of absurdist profanity as relates to its semiotic content as contrasted with its heteromorphic posture with regard to grammatical constructions for any given set or sets of class or cultural signifiers or eat a bag of dicks.
