Verbatim message to Cannes cohabitants with identities deleted, sent this morning: In lieu of last night’s SNORING DISASTER, which resulted in my getting roughly two and a half hours of sleep (if that) and my sleeping through roughly 40% of section #1 of Steve McQueen’s Occupied City, the important…nay, vital thing is to isolate [the snore bear] from [the other two residents] as much as possible.

This is what occasionally happens when you’re poor and are forced to share festival accommodations. You’ll sometimes lose lots of sleep because one of your flatmates is a bit of a sociopath in the sense that he regards snoring as something that can be endured or brushed away (it CAN’T be!), and the sounds that come out of this guy are nothing but agony from the first night on.

I’ve been through two or three difficult snoring situations at Sundance but I’ve never before experienced a snoring assault of this magnitude. Sawing, growling, snorting, rattling the china. Once it takes hold in your mind you can’t get rid of it. Having to endure this aural horror every night is going to absolutely RUIN my Cannes experience. It’s intolerable, and I’m really and truly furious at what [snore bear] is doing to us.

Remedy #1: [Snore bear] sleeps on the living room couch, from [the other two] sleep in the bedroom, which is separated by two doors.

Remedy #2: Everyone needs to buy a set of extra-effective ear plugs at a pharmacy.

Remedy #3: [Snore bear] needs to buy some kind of anti-snoring remedy or device at a pharmacy. This is the LEAST he can do. A wooden clothes pin that clasps upon his nose, say.

Remedy #4: Early this morning I went searching through the building for some kind of storage or basement utility room that [snore bear] could sleep in. Alas, I found nothing but little car garages.