Sneaky bastards

Someone or something sneaks into my apartment when I'm not there during the day and changes the radio station on my alarm clock. I know I'm not changing the station in my sleep because it gets flipped to a 70's/80's classic (?) rock station and there's no way I want to wake up to that. So I think it must be the evil little buttrock loving trolls who live under my bed with the dustbunnies and lost shoes. Those guys are always messing with my stuff and I've about had it. I still can't find my kitchen scissors or that box of strike anywhere matches. And now they're playing with the radio. I actually had to spend my first conscious moments of today being aurally violated by "Carry On My Wayward Son." Yesterday was "Sweet Home Alabama".......guh. I thought I was having a bad dream where I was forced to buy mulitple copies of that Freedom Rock album in the infomercials. It was a sick, sad way to start the day. No wonder I wanted to be someone else yesterday. Damn trolls.