ugh
When I used to live in a dodgy flat in Hackney, the couple to the left used to row a lot and one day I could hear the bloke the beating his wife/girlfriend up, so I called the police. Such was the perceived level of Begbie-flavoured violence, I was sure that they'd cuff him and take him away, but they didn't and I'm pretty sure he saw me twitching like an old woman at the net curtains as they questioned him on the street. He never confronted me though. Probably because I moved out shortly after. Not out of cowardice mind... Broke up with my girlfriend. Didn't beat her up though. :OV
(codenamebonkee, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 13:40, Reply)

Big Up The Leeds Massive!
I used to live in Chapeltown when I was at Leeds Poly. (It was cheaper than the more upmarket and studenty Headingley)
5 of us shared a squat and we seemed to be the only non-rastas in the street.
I was once beaten up for not wanting to buy some plasticine in silver foil which was being sold to me as dope.
Then the riots happened. I couldn't move out of there fast enough.
A year ago I saw my old street looking like a demilitarised zone, apparently now terrorised by a couple of errant families in the area. The local pub was burned out and the parade of shops which once housed my favourite chippy was boarded up and derelict.
I suppose the neighbours got worse after I left.
(LunarJim, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 13:38, Reply)

When I lived (briefly) in London...
...with my mate Glaston, we got a band going (we're both guitarists) and used to practise quite often, as well as playing lots of music. We weren't the scary neighbours though, no. That kind of thing was de rigeur around there. They were the crackheads who lived downstairs who, whenever they saw us shouted random stuff like "Musician! Hello musician! Love your music!" and then sung bizarre tunes that didn't sound like anything we'd ever played.
Occasionally they'd pop up to knock on our door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar as well. By "borrow", they meant "have", of course. Which was no problem, other than for the time when we literally didn't have any sugar, and a truly frightening screaming, shouting and crying tantrum ensued.

Glaston thought they were funny, I was scared though.

Ah, Michael Cliffe - happy days!

(some kind of length joke alluding to high-rise accomodation)
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 13:20, Reply)

Manchester
all my neighbours down here are great, tho across the road they have a tendency of letting their dog run free all over the street, and the couple who've never bothered to have children and live at the bottom (are both retired) are the most miserable people in the world.
my student halls were great last year, looking forward to the next lot when i move back up in a couple of weeks. my sister lived in withington for a year, never saw any trouble due to being protected by the local drug dealer, complete with black 4x4 with tinted windows and chrome bits :)

gf's neighbours aren't the nicest, complain about loud music (which is never at unreasonable hours) yet listen to music themselves, very loudly, at 3am. lovely.

answer up to my usual standard.
( mr_wicksy is.... old., Fri 26 Aug 2005, 12:53, Reply)

Cousin's across the road weirdo
True story, my cousins across the road neighbour died, and as the freaky recluse had no living relatives his house was taken by the government or something. (not totally sure what happens in this situation) Anyway, they send a clean up crew around to make the house presentable, as he was living in total squalor. The proceeded to clean out his garden, where they found a volkswagen beetle buried in his fecking lawn. They dug the whole thing up and also found a nova and a bike. Turns out he was alot more of a nutter than the rumours has indicated.
(nickanytime, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 12:52, Reply)

university neighbour
on teh first day of uni, my next door neighbour in the halls of residence approached me (before even asking my name) said to me "do you like parties? i don't like parties". I knew our relationship would go no further than that one, single sided conversation. He looked like right wierdo, no dress sense and was a big scary ginger (sorry rob, you the only ginger i like anyway). I hooked up with a big breasted blonde babe and did her so very hard against the adjoining wall nightly. His response was to play teh Beatles white Album continuously, even when he wasn't there - scary. I heard it sent you mad if you did this, so I started sending him leaflets on plastic surgery and orthopedic beds. So maybe I was teh annoying neighbour, but he was aprick of the highest proportions. Lee, if you're reading this, fuck off, you're a prick!
(Jazz Bloke Music has charms to soothe the savage breast, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 12:46, Reply)

Mental lot across the road
Me and some mates would play on our bikes / skate boards (i was quite shit but I trundeled along down hill) merrily for 2 years befor one day they started to scowl throught the windows (which we ignored) to yelling (which we largely ignored) to finaly chucking a kettle of boiling water at us that (thankfuly) missed which brought my parents out and a shouting match ensured (which my dad won! being witty and all). They did't bother me or my mates after but they did repeatedly setfire to there front lawn(scorching the doble glazing), nutters.
(timberwolf0122 is turkey volume guessing man! Guessing the volumes in terms of turkeys since, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 12:25, Reply)

pbroaifsotw
when did question of the week become pretentious boredom riddled over active imagination fed story of the week?

anyone led a life out there yet?
(chives, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 12:10, Reply)

Welcome to the neighborhood
Last year I helped Pheeeeeel move out of his nice flat on the right side of the tracks, to a house on the wrong side - really just 1 mile away.

We had just dropped off the 2nd carload of his stuff (he has a large and varied collection of gentlemen's magazines) when we met the neighbours. Two teenagers mucking about with a gun. 50ft from his new des res.

"Funny" says Pheeeel - "I don't remember a neighbourhood watch service being mentioned by the letting agent". So we stopped the car.

Whilst I was getting out of the car to remonstrate with them about the safety measures one should adopt when handling firearms, Pheeeeeel suggested that it is quite hard to move house if the area has been cordoned off.

On idle days I do still wonder whether they subsequently have received proper firearms training, or have since shot each other in the feet, arms, head etc. ?
(Flappers, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 12:07, Reply)

Bethnal Green?!
....thought so!
(saltydogstar, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 11:55, Reply)

You lot might as well shut up now.
Across the road from me is a dodgy decrepit pub full of old Irishmen drinking their pensions from dawn till dusk, who by and large are a nice bunch, and fat shaven east end thugs, who aren't.

My next-door neighbours are a seedy lapdancing club, initial attraction of seeing the very beautiful dancers arriving and leaving more than outweighed by gangs of pissed up City suits out for a night on the tits and puking up, falling asleep, or both, in our doorway.

Next door to that is a heroin addicts needle exchange.This backs on to our car park, so naturally many people's bicycles, cars, scooters and motorbikes are stolen by the 'clients'.

Next door to that is a "wet house" which is a hostel for those sclerotic old alcoholics who "cannot or will not stop drinking" - so basically winos are being rewarded for living a self-destructive life entirely without responsibility or consideration with spacious central-London accommodation (a mere £20 a month is taken for this), free hot meals and a garden to play loud 70s music and have noisy fights in, free dental and medical care, sickness benefit, pensions and housing benefit, all of which they can keep and may spend on booze. So they do. Queueing up at 7:30 at the corner shop to stock up on their breakfast Ace cider, and carrying on all day. Apparently this is somehow preferable to letting them suffer the consequences of their life choices and die in the street or on a park bench, but I can't see how.

Oh, and the wholesaler that supplies the shops with all this nasty cheap booze is going to build a dirty great warehouse and lorry park opposite the flat. Thanks, council. What the fuck am I paying £1200 a year for again? I forget.

Welcome to fucking London. The rest of you don't know when you're well off.
(Lambkin, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 11:35, Reply)

My old neighbour...
was scary as hell.

We're talking about 15 years ago here, when I was a kid. She was a scary old lady who had warts on her face and owned three yappy chihuahuas. I convinced my younger brother and sister that she was a witch. She'd shout obscenities at us for walking past her window as it apparently 'wreaked bloody havoc with her television reception', and scared the three of us so much that if we needed to pass by her window we'd crawl past so she wouldn't see us. She hated all children - absolutely detested them - apart from the local landowner's step-daughter (who was friends with my siblings). Eventually - three days before I sat my GCSE's - the evil bitch let it slip to the landowner's step-kid that my 'dad' was in fact not really my genetic parent. She, of course, ran straight to my brother and sister and told them. Can, worms, open. I'd kinda suspected he wasn't my birth father for a few years anyway, and just about managed to struggle through my exams after this highly stressful incident. (This was before the days when they awarded extra marks for personal circumstances and such-like).

I remember when the evil witch finally moved away. My mum opened the special champagne.
(bedsitmartyr : Doctor of Bottles, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 11:18, Reply)

He looked at me funny.
That's why I burnt his house down.
( Lightguy hail satan, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 11:00, Reply)

Chainsaw Mick
I was playing goldeneye on my nintendo at 2 in the morning when the neighbour downstairs started up his chainsaw , a bit freaky to honest , I didnt go and complain about the noise as I didnt want to die , I have now moved from that address
(Captain Chronic, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 11:00, Reply)

Not mine, Mrs. God's
So there I was, lying in bed next to the current Mrs. God, happily asleep. When suddenly the people in the flat below hers, the ones with the loud mouths that you can hear up the other end of the street, start arguing again. Very very loudly. At 1:50am. Ouch.

Apparently, she'd come home from work and found him on her side of the bed. This went on for about an hour.

I asked Mrs. God if this happened a lot. In sign language. It does. A lot. Then they start shouting at the child. Even nicer.

My neighbours have got a lot better since the episode where the two lads got busted for mugging old ladies for heroin money. Now they're all sweetness and light.

And with a loud 'splorch!' my cherry disappears. Sorry if I got any on you, but it should rinse right out.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 10:44, Reply)

nosey neighbours
It started with a gentle knocking at my door. On opening I was delighted to see a beautiful leggy brunette standing there, she had a dash of red to her locks, like a rabid women of Celtic origin...I didn't mind. The whiff of real scented perfume fluttered up my prominent and slightly crooked nose.... she smelt great....It was fair to say at that point on I would never love anyone else.

within her deignty hands was a cream cup stained red from her lipstick....very red. "would you mind terribly if I could trouble you for some sugar" she said in a soft maiden like voice.....I felt my heart sink. Without a word I grabbed the cup and ran to the kitchen where I filled it up with sugar. I felt a twinge downstairs, the pills had stopped working and the blood rushed from around my body into my once flacid now rapidly growing manhood. If I told the doctor about this I would almost certainly be sent back to ward 9. Before I knew it I was fucking my hand with such fury that my
fucdge stick threw out an alimighty whack of man fish yogurt...I didn't get it all, some of it was wasted, but some I managed to get in the sugar...it was enough.
I rushed back to the door, thrust the sugar pot into her ever so deignty hands, they were so small. I slammed the door shut....I was embaressed.

It was the night after before I finally plucked up the courage to go round. I set myself high up so I couldn't be seen. It was hard the 'tools' kept digging into me. I waited in that tree for over three hours. I don't know what I expected to see. A man called at her house...he had ginger hair and a bonny face...I was furious...

most of it was blurry after that, but I can recall most of the noise. Agonising screams, and gargles as they choked on their on blood. you can live for hours without intestines, but they didn't make it. It might have been the blood loss...I've lost the skill with the knife, or maybe it was just too rusty. I releived myself over the still corpses. I could play for hours with a good warm heart if it didn't dry so quickly, still I took pleasure in arranging them alphabetically....I like things in order, it gives me peace.

It wasn't long before the police turned up....the neighbours had heard everything. the nosey bastards.
(vitch, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 10:41, Reply)

Widow next door
When I still lived with my parents, the lady next door's husband died suddenly and unexpectedly on a Sunday morning. We could hear her all through the Sunday night sobbing uncontrollably. She even threw in the occasional howl of despair. None of my family got a wink of sleep that night because of her blubbing. It was a fucking nightmare.
(stusut79, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 10:38, Reply)

Not so much scary as disgusting
The people who lived upstairs from me in Leeds used to live on takeaways, mostly KFC. Our shared bin was outside my front door and as it was often full, they'd put their rubbish in a bag next to it. Thing is though, they wouldn't tie the bin bag up, so the local cats would fish out the leftovers, which they liked to eat on my front step.

I frequently would go out in the morning in bare feet to find myself stepping on chewed up chicken bones covered in cat spit.

Nice.
(Pachey, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 10:26, Reply)

My upstairs neighbour bloke
His lordship lives in a pretty nice flat in a nice civilised area of my town. All sensible with everyone being polite to each, watching mail & water plants when someone's on holiday, that kind of thing. I like just about everyone in my building.

Except on Saturday & Sunday mornings. My upstairs neighbour's bathroom is directly above my bedroom. He likes to run a very long bath every weekend morning & listen to loud music & sing along to it. The problem being that each & every time he'll listen to the same song on repeat. Solidly. For an hour.

It is: Tears in heaven by Eric Clapton. It's burned into my brain now. Two years of this shit. It's worst when I have a hangover & can't move out of bed & am subjected to the noise. It scares the hell out of ladies who aren't used to it as well. Hehe.

Your length is insignificant to that of Eric.
(Lord of the Pies, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 10:07, Reply)

Elderly German Lady...
For most of my life (think 4-18) I lived next door to an elderly German lady who used to shoo the birds away with a loud, well shooing noise only an elderly German lady could make. She also used to shout at me and my sister for making noise in the garden. Although we did reply with a torrent of insults.

I came home one day to find the police round investigating a complaint that I had been throwing rotten fruit at her conservatory. It sounds like the sort of thing I’d do but I was on a school trip so had the perfect alibi. Fortunately the old bill hadn't suspected my dad was capable of doing such a thing to the old bat, this I found hysterical when he confessed after they had left.

Still that wasn't quite as funny as the swastika he "drew" on her lawn with vinegar, which bleached the grass for weeks, after polishing off 2 litres of strong cider... Good old dad!
(The Duke of Pontefract, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 10:02, Reply)

I live in a block of flat
On one side I have one guy who sounds as if he is dying of cancer as he coughs up most of a lung a various points during the day.
Below me I have a club DJ who enjoys spinning his wheels of steel throughout the night
And on the other side are a couple of guys who spend most weekends fucking each other at top volume.
Anyone looking for a flat in London? Mech cheapness
(Lurchio, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 9:59, Reply)

The Neighboors
They may be a noisy bunch but the sex is fantastic!

JinDod
27 Cromwell Street
Gloucester
(JinDod, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 9:52, Reply)

My next door neighbour
is a right-wing Plaid Cymru leader (i.e hates the english and whatnot) and his dad further up the road was once the leader..i've heard he's just had a divorce..
(David Fishwick Minibus Sales - notmad.co.uk, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 9:45, Reply)

A good combo
To the right a dysfunctional family - the mother has despression, regularly attempts suicide by drinking booze and downing pills, rings the husband at work threatening suicide. She is known and dreaded by the local medical service. Her husband has a few lady friends who spend his money. The son has a few issues as well.

Opposite an ex drug dealer and prostitute, used to be visited regularly by the police.

To the left a drug user and loud party person, seems to be bipolar depressive.

Marvellous.
(Glen Moranjie, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 9:29, Reply)

Apparently
some people are afraid of my estate in nottingham. This IS justified as theres shootings about every day just down the road. the scariest was my neighbour knocking on uor door with a glock in one hand and a bottle of bacardi breezer in the other. he said he needed somewhere to hide out for the night and we slammed the door in his face. cue about 15 fat armed police sitting on him pointing sub-machine guns at his face.

he was back after a week though, and apologised and asked if we wanted a drink.

told him to fuck off

EDIT: sorry abut the length joke, mines too long for one
(beast on toast has xpango=> http://www.xpango.com?ref=90520974, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 9:27, Reply)

Time for a good ole sing song Aussie style
Neighbours, everybody needs good Neighbours
Just a friendly wave each morning, helps to make a better day
Neighbours, need to get to know each other
Next door is only a footstep away
Neighbours, everybody needs good Neighbours
With a little understanding, you can find the perfect blend
Neighbours, should be there for one another
That's when good Neighbours become good friends...............Awwww how sweet, wasn't it, isn't it, yeah jumpers for goalposts a lil cricket in the street, madge's window gets smashed, wasn't it yeah, awww.
(Dodgyb, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 9:23, Reply)

I wave my willy at you.....
In my last house the neighbours over the back were appalling. 3 kids and a wife with a voice like nails on a blackboard. They thought nothing of running into the garden screaming at 5 in the morning, or playing S-Club-F*cking-7 repeatedly over and over at top volume.

In summer they perpetually dined outside and couldnt have a conversation without shouting. I often wondered if they were scared to shut up in case they ceased to exist.

After I moved I read in the local paper that the old man had been arrested for downloading kiddie pr0n. His lovely wife was quoted as saying "He is not as bad as what people say he is".
No love - he positively pales into insignificance against the rest of you.
(LunarJim, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 8:30, Reply)

vanishing beer
As a student the beer used to vanish magically from our fridge and seeing how the place was shared with 7 lads we all accused each other and there was much bitterness. Until one day we caught the landlord red-handed using our phone and drinking our beer. He got a right good kicking and we stopped paying rent.
Which was nice.
(toadrunner, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 7:20, Reply)

Mad Irishman
I used to live downstairs from a mad Irishman.

Every night at 11.45 I'd hear him trudging back from the pub, drunk. More often than not a row with his Chinese girlfriend would then kick off. They were both very loud and well practised in the launching of heavy objects.

As his given name was also Dobby, I also had to suffer an endless stream of his drunken mates hitting my doorbell at all hours shouting "Dobby! Dobby! Sssat you man? Nnuurgh [splash]".

Eventually it all went quiet. It turned out they'd done a runner in the middle of the night without paying the rent. And taken all the furniture with them.
(><(((">, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 6:52, Reply)