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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As Ye Sow, So Shall Ye ReapAs I live in a rough area, I interviewed some of my neighbours for my criminology Master's dissertation research. Very interesting people!
One used to buy stolen property from burglars. His house, across the road from where the burglars regularly met up to find buyers for their stuff, was full of quality nicked stuff, worth thousands, for which he'd paid a pittance.
Over the years he became well-known among the local criminals. This understandably made him a bit paranoid.
So he moved to a house further from the pub and fortified it like a castle. High fences, big dogs, floodlights, sturdy gates, CCTV: if you want to visit you ring in advance and then again on the doorstep, and he looks at you on the CCTV and leans out of the upstairs window to make sure.
One of my conclusions was that a consequence of offending behaviour may be an increased fear of victimisation later in life.
It was hard not to moralise. But hey, whose fucking fault was that then, Dickhead?
(, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 8:43, Reply)
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