Stop the fucking banging will you?
I used to have a neighbour. Her bedroom was next to mine because of the way that the terrace was laid out. Nice woman; it transpired that she was the district nurse who was assigned to my missus when she had Sweary Jr. Small world, but nothing compared to the range of coincidences that raised themselves afterwards.

Anyway.

She was doing her house up, and had negotiated a 'labour for shag' transaction scheme. So basically, all the work was done for nothing ,bar a go on the tradesman's pump-action tool of the trade. If a plasterer and a brickie overlapped, then she made sure she had a slot for both of them...

This got a bit wearing as I was trying to drift off each night, only to be awoken by the gentle 'thump-thud-thump-thud' of her headboard against the wall of her bedroom, which resonated in my bedroom. Every night. And it would get louder. 'THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-Thump-thud-thump-thud-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUMP-THUD-thump-thud-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD... endless, rising and falling, up and down, louder, softer, louder, softer.

I used to refer to it as her 'thud-arc'...
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 23 Jul 2009, 23:45, 1 reply)

Oh dear...
That's dreadful.


*click*
(Truk smells nicer than you, Thu 23 Jul 2009, 23:55, closed)