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LAist Rants: Rude Awakening, Mariachi Style

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We'll admit that in the five-plus years we've lived in our neighborhood, we've come to know our neighbors more by sound than by sight. There's been the guy who parks his Hummer in the apartment driveway and is still surprised and violently angered every time it gets towed. One domestic dispute this summer erupted in middle-of-the night verbal fireworks and a he said/she said street show that ran one end of the block to the other complete with strewn open suitcases. lost keys to the car that was left in the street, and an on-foot chase by the cops. We've had fires, television night shoots, and many a party to keep us up into the wee hours. And yes, our street is a colorful one; we've got a gay-friendly church (lordy, the singin'!) and a mentally-disturbed halfway house (tons of loud and verbose, well, crazy people on repeat) mid-block. Recently we even heard something a little naughty coming from the other side of our apartment walls, but we won't go there...