How to kill a mime, without making a sound.  

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I first moved to New York City from a small New England "cow town." I'm really not kidding about the cow town part. If you don't believe me, take a look at this Wikipedia page about my hometown.

To back this up, I should also mention that in high school we experienced a 30 minute baseball "cow delay" after a bevy of bovines moseyed onto the field, casually grazing on the luscious expands of left center.

Life in the country was quiet and I became accustomed to the tranquil stillness of the night,
often being lulled to sleep by the sounds of chirping crickets.

Seeking more adventure, excitement, and non farming-related jobs,
I found myself relocating to Brooklyn — more specifically, the border of Bedford Stuyvesant and Clinton Hill.

Let's see what the web has to say about my new community.

My new neighborhood also came with a new nickname: "Vietnam."
Admittedly it lacked the small town charm of "Cow Town," but it's good to know I'm at least living in areas known for something.

As you would expect, this shift in scenery put a serious crimp in my nocturnal routine. I now found myself being lulled to sleep by the incessant chirping of city crickets.

It was at this time I discovered why New York is considered "the city that never sleeps," but I was sure it wasn't for lack of trying.

After several months of sleepless nights, I finally became adjusted and even accustomed to all the sounds of the city — so much so that whenever I'd venture back to cow town, I'd find myself lying awake, listening to the now eery silences of the country.

So now I'd finally become adjusted to the sirens, shots and screams of the night, entering some of the deepest sleep I'd experienced in years.

That is until my new neighbor moved in. He turned out to be a mime, and his silence kept me up until all hours of the night, as he practiced his routine. Walking against wind. Trapped in a box. Pulling a rope.

I couldn't take it. His silence was deafening.

I wasn't going to let this mime cheat me of the sleep that I'd so diligently paid my dues to get. Something had to be done. So one night when I couldn't take his silence anymore, I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine.

I turned my stereo up full-blast, pushed the speakers against the wall
and pressed play on a blank tape.

There's nothing more satisfying then hearing a mime scream.
And to this day, I've never not heard from him again.

13 Squirrels Squirreling

Brilliant Post. Brilliant retaliation. Only YOU could come up with something so diabolical.

twisted and brilliant.

carry on...

Is it really a crime to slime a mime?

I dont know where you come up with this shit but its effing funny haha!

The ultimate silencer. hahaha! Brilliant!
Can you imagine that emergency call?

Dispatcher: "911 what's your emergency?"


Dispatcher: "Hello is there a problem?"


Dispatcher: "Fucking mimes!"


Hey, everybody knows that the best way to kill a mime in NYC is by joining up with Curtis Sliwa's Guardian Angels. Plus you get those spiffy red berets too...

Actually I found this incredibly sad (with the B&W photos and all) that I am now going to have a drink to calm down.

You're too much - great post! If a mime screams in a forest, can you hear him? I've always wondered that...

see, this is exactly the kind of horror that makes me appreciate the sound of all the voices in my head. silence is insanity.

I'm always for violence against mimes! You are a comic genius!!

LMAO... I'm mourning the mime...
Can you hear me? " "...

Bwaaahahaha! What a fantastic story! I died-over when I read the "blank tape" part. This is my favorite type of humor.

That asshole so had it coming. Glad you gave it to him.

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