Flashback to 2000, October. Start of my second year at uni. Second week of teaching. I, being me, have been playing video games and roleplaying on that there internet (over diallup, as we were in a rented place) until half seven in the morning.
Wednesday. Eight thirty a.m. Steve, on of my housemates, bangs on my door. He's shouting something. I pull on a dressing gown so he doesn't see my genitals (very important).
He: "D'you want a lift in to the networking tutorial?"
Me: "No. Sleeping."
He: "Fair dos."
I went back to bed but couldn't sleep, so I wrote Steve a note indicating my religious aversion to any time before eleven, and that while I appreciated the offer I had only been asleep for an hour, and was thus rather tired.
I went out for some fags around the time he would have got back, as I didn't want the embarrasment of confronting him. I had, after all, left the note in a place he couldn't miss it.
I stuck it to his door with a seven-inch kitchen knife.
No point doing things by halves.