NeighboursI used to live next door to a pair of elderly naturists, only finding out about their hobby when they bade me a cheerful, saggy 'Hello' while I was 25 feet up a ladder repairing the chimney. Luckily, a bush broke my fall, but the memory of a fat, naked man in an ill-fitting wig will live with me forever.
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Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 1 Oct 2009, 12:41)
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An then there was the MountainAfter the Highrise of Terror (TM), I moved up the mountain to a house. It was in a supposedly better neighbourhood. One of the first neighbours I met was from a couple of doors down, and I was fairly excited, because they were from Kent, much like me.
Unfortunately, they were the chaviest family imaginable. They all smoked, including their 12-year-old son, who did it openly in front of his parents. He also had no problem addressing his mother as "a fackin' stupid cow," or similar, if asked to do anything. There were five boys, and they all swore loudly, stole from neighbors, and generally menaced the other children in the area. They would all have noisy domestic disputes or parties - or combinations of both - on the front lawn throughout the summer, and the police were regular visitors. The neighbourhood actually had a small party when they were finally evicted.
3000 miles to end up living next to some home-grown chavs. That figures.
(, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 3:03, Reply)
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