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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“You can’t choose your neighbours.”Said the patronising shister from the estate agency who was showing me round a flat I went to view recently. It was a nice flat. Perfect infact except for one mammoth sticking point. The neighbours were playing music LOUD, very LOUD – so LOUD I thought Mr. Pork-Pie Hat Druggie No-Talent Waxen-Skinned Pasty-Faced Drain Pipe Trousers - Pete Doherty himself was actually performing like a big public schoolboy spaz next door.
The walls were shaking. I was not best pleased.
“No you can’t choose your neighbours,” I replied as I placed my hands on the wall to feel the vibration of the hackneyed apples n pears, ows yer fatha dross seeping through. “But you can choose which ones you club to death with a cricket bat, cut into tiny little peices, and then flush down the bog.”
The estate agent thought I was joking. I was not.
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SpankyHanky, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 11:02,
1 reply)
Well, you did choose your neighbours ...... and decided not to live there. I hope.
(, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 12:14, closed)
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