Ode to the guy downstairs

Ah, the drunken babbling of the guy downstairs....
your voice is like a rubber mallet gently pounding away at my frontal lobe.
your knowledge of early 90's alternative rock music is unrivaled and very impressive to the ladies.
your persistence in the use of the word "dude", despite it being 2011, implies a "devil may care" attitude and a refusal to follow the rules.
you talk with ease on subjects about which you know nothing, never letting a lack of understanding or intellectual inadequacy stop you from making your point.
from the floor above, I hear you addressing the street below,
when you speak, I feel the need to clear my throat, but I don't, incase you should hear me and possibly try to use that gravel filled loud speaker in the front of your face to acknowledge my existence.
if I had to live with a voice like yours, I would probably be drunk too.