Everybody needs to pound their meat on occasion, and I don't begrudge the neighbors makin' bacon a little noisily when the mood arises. But damn, do they have to do it at 6am in their kitchen right across from my bedroom window? I was awoken today by the sound of slapping meat at 6am and realized the neighbors were at it again. Here is the evidence: Yes, that is bacon or drying beef strips hanging in the kitchen window next to a skanky dish towel and open window. Or else Mr. and Mrs. Hannibal Lector live across the way. Creeps me out either way.