As you can imagine after reading last night's tirade (which by the way, I have no desire to reread, so if there are typos, live with it), I had a few pints last night and have a teeny-tiny smidgeon of a hangover today. The last thing you need, is to be awoken by a blaring loudspeaker. Well, that happens here on a daily basis. Trucks drive around the city blaring out their pitch at a pitch that must drive the dogs nuts. Somehow, they manage to reach an aural zone that irritates more than it educates. One truck offers to collect your large appliances from you (I assume they haul away broken items to the dump for you, I don't really know). Just when you manage to nod off to sleep again, they make a second tour of the neighbourhood in order to blast their point into your inner ear again. Other trucks drive around promoting the latest Pachinko and, at night, you can hear the high-pitched whistle of the sweet potato trucks. Do you ever really get a craving for a sweet potato at 11pm? Well fortunately, when they're in season, that craving can be assuaged.
Don't get me started when it's election time around here! Take my word for it, it gets really, really noisy.