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This is a question Scary Neighbours

My immediate neighbours are lovely. But the next house down from that? Crimminy biscuits - he's a 70 year old taxi driver who loves to tell me at length about the people he's put in hospital and how Soho is "run by Maltese ponces." How scary are your neighbours?

(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 13:20)
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my former roommates were horrid
They lived in the room next to mine. Both were chronic potheads and would get high every day/night. She laughed like a hyena being runover by a steamroller. He nearly burned down the apartment by turning on the stove and leaving it. Both were terribly filthy. One morning I went into the bathroom to find a used pad sitting on the counter, real classy. After they moved out, I was stuck with the task of cleaning up their filthy mess and repainting. This meant having to peel off the stupid blue tack that was used to hold pictures on the wall, sanding the rubber cement off the walls and ultimately having to repaint due to the first coat peeling. The fridge was so filthy that I scrubbed it and scrubbed it with as many cleaning solutions I could find and it still stinks despite it looking like a new fridge.
(, Thu 1 Sep 2005, 1:51, Reply)
Strange Neighbors
In many of the houses we've lived in, there have usually been a few 'odd people'.
In the first house I remember growing up in, there was a mental guy just next door who used to run and swing his golf stick at us (after provocation of course, usually from beating up his nephew). We could easily run faster than him, but boy he was scary. And my youngest brother at the time used to get butt naked on the road in our court to the consternation of all the old women. Actually, we were probably the bad neighbors there...
A few moves later, and we were living next door to a guy who was drunk all the time, had a son who he would fight with whenever his son was dumb enough to come home, and played his radio full blast all day, so much so that we could hear it all over our house. There were also a few times when there was a lot of loud shooting noises on the road outside our house - I still have no idea whether they were real bullets or just caps. Also I found a (used?? i can't remember) condom in our letterbox. Needless to say my mother took it off my younger brother's hands with a pair of tongs.
Another neighbor found an old .22 bullet in his backyard. Just to see if it was still live, he bashed it with a hammer, and narrowly escaped getting shot by it. Fool.
Yet another neighbor kept a huge scary ridgeback that he used to let free to run in the park behind our house whenever we were out there. I think he did it on purpose.

Edit: Just remembered a neighbor at another place where we lived. He would go mental if we sat on tree branches and let them hit or touch his fence. We learned from the previous tenants that since he got so stinking mad because of it they pruned them back every year!

Fast-forward 9 years, and out in the country here we haven't met morons anywhere near as bad. Makes you think doesn't it?
(, Thu 1 Sep 2005, 1:23, Reply)
I have Chinese neighbours who rant at me in Cantonese frequently. I love them to bits but I have no idea what they're saying as they're quite elderly and deaf, which is probably why we get on the noise I make. One of their relatives knocked a few weeks ago and asked if they could paint my side of the fence. I said if you want doesn't bother me. So I said if you wait until Tuesday when I'm doing the garden I'll trim back the hedge for you, they said it's okay they'll just move it back. I came in drunk with my mate Eddie two weeks ago, after a riotous night and he said where's your hedge? I thought fuck me it's gone! I asked them and they just said don't like thrown away!! Okay is this an ancient Chinese custom. It was just so weird they took my hedge! I'm a little upset about my missing privet but what am I to do??
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 23:02, Reply)
My neighbour is called Ted. He is 98 years old, and still does all his gardening, cleaning and still goes walking in the park. He has started to use meals on wheels, bless him!
Although sometimes he does ask me where he put his wife. I never know what to reply...
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 21:48, Reply)
Had a council-house next door to us for ages...
Family consisted of a single mother who we hardly ever saw, a daughter/au-pair (never was too sure) who played drum'n'bass max volume ALL DAY LONG, and since our house was ex-council the walls are so thin anything not screwed down would be rattling along in tune.
Add to this two kids, one about eight, and one about five, who would frequently climb over fences/walls/gates and destroy gardens (apart from them, my road's a perfect example of retired, middle-class suburbia), nick toys and pee on garden furniture.

Anyway, back to the story...about a year before they finally got kicked out (after the incident with their rottweiler and my mum...but that's another story) "Mom" gets a new boyfriend, one who actually spends time with the kids and is fairly civil to the rest of us (didnt last long).

Part of his scheme to civilize the 2 little brats is to give them their own bikes and teach them how to ride. Cue lots of near-misses and yelling at new road-borne menace in the cul-de-sac. Used to see these kids as far away as the local shops, happily pedalling away.

Cue the unforgettable sight of the 5 yr old cycling butt-naked back from god knows where, jumping off his bike and running indoors with both hands pressed firmly to his arse.

Guess the little sod found out about chafing.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 21:13, Reply)
corpses and morrisons bags
fistly, my ex boyfriend (while i was with him) lived next door to someone who had such loud sex *with himself* that he woke said ex up on a regular basis. he also liked rubber outfits and shaving all of his body hair, and telling everyone he met, but seeing as a lot of people from oxley halls in leeds seem to be private school people, thats not too much of a shock.
also, i dont mean to be a horrible person and generalise, but but every chinese person i've lived with has been totally mental, and i've lived with at least 6.
Tracy in my halls in first year (bodington in leeds by the way) was the most reclusive person i've ever not encountered. she used to cook all her food at 3am (you'd come home pissed to find her wee steamer bubbling away), collect morrisons bags (during freshers week i asked her if she wanted to join us, and everytime i knocked on her door there would be a massive rustling and she would open it framed by a background of plastic bags) and owned an enormous cleaver, which would be left on the kitchen surfaces in a threatening manner (or so we thought).
when i lived in glasgow i saw my first corpse (aged 8) thanks to the strict catholic woman who invited us to her late husbands wake. i didnt reaslise that big hughy (the late husband) would be joining the party. she also used to fuel my nightmares by giving me a porcelain doll for every birthday from 3 till 12. to this day (im 20) i dont trust those things).
i appreciate they're not that awful, but i was still very freaked out for quite a long time.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 20:39, Reply)
lovely ladies
Me and my brother in a flat above a lesbian alcoholic couple who violently argued most of the time.
The worst time one stabbed the other and then tried to fight the paramedic who was trying to get her in the ambulance.
When they weren`t fighting each other they`d have a go at us.
They managed to take offence to me before I`d moved in and came around telling my bruv to tell that slut to shut the fcuk up??
One occasion I came home to find Pot Noddle all up the wall next to the front door and my bruv with a big bruise across his face where one had pushed the door into his face.Only for them to then be at the door within a few mins of my return screaming about get that slut down here?? When I went down one grabbed hold of me by the hair and when my bruv tried to pull her off me the other one grabbed him and clawed at his face which he reacted in bitting her hand to get her off and callin the police.
It did make my next neighbour who was a herion addicted prostitute seem quite lovely though!!
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 20:30, Reply)
Me grandad
was happily a neighbour from hell. Everything he ever done to the neighbours either involved alcohol or a degree of physical violence.

An example of each;

Violence; me dad and grandad goes to the local pub. As they walk in, all the tables are blocked up, except for me grandad's neighbour and her friend (two batty old women) sitting quietly and keeping to themselves. Grandad walks over. "Thank you ladies, gerrup, move it" and starts pulling their chairs away. One of the ladies says "Well I never!" to which, quick as a flash me grandaddy answers "And you won't with a face like a busted arsehole, move it!".

Alcohol; me grandad used to drink and drive. Not a clever idea, Im sure everyone will agree (even though driving pissed is cool as feck). Me grandaddy had a white Voltzwagen, which he maintained ok, but drove it like a man possessed, and was stubborn as hell almost as much as he was behind the wheel as normal. So when he couldn't park in his own drive-in car space one day, he was a bit confused. Especially as he'd reversed in and slammed his car into another in his space. Some inconsiderate bastard had parked this black car there instead.. Hang about...that's not my house ...shit.
So he drives out of the space, with this black car now stuck on his bumper and dragging this other car out of the spot too onto the main road. It was at this point that it came to my grandad's attention that alot of people where running out after him and shouting alot more than you'd expect. But there again, when you're drunkedly dragging a hurse from a parked up funeral procession, you'd expect some aggro lol.

There was another fluffey violence one, which involved the neighbour's cat too. He did have a gentle side to him, which was strange considering he was normally a right cunt to everyone. He adopted a fluffeh kitten, which he looked after every day. But he noticed that this kitten was getting thinner and thinner, which worried him as he always fed the kitten religeously at the same time every day. So one morning, he placed a saucer of milk out for the kitten in the back garden, and hid inside watching. Sure enough, this tom-cat from next door strolls in, smacks teh poor kitten out of the way and starts drinking the milk for itself. Me grandad sneaks out, grabs the tom-cat and very calmly uppercuts this tom-cat into his shed door. Never had any trouble with the tom-cat again after that.

Soz for length, but me grandad was a complete arsehole too, and the world needs to know :)
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 18:16, Reply)
It's always been a dream of mine...
...to retire to New Orleans. To one of those quaint houses with the wrap around porch and balcony. To drink mint julips and flash my 70 year old breasts at anyone who walks by.

Might have to reconsider now I suppose...
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 17:35, Reply)
Not Mine, My Sisters...
This JUST happened this week:

My Sister lives in Glen Burnie, Maryland. Not a bad town, a bit chavvy in the center, but they have some pretty decent neighbors...or so they thought!

Monday night/Tuesday morning. My Neice (she is a 26 year old teacher) is woken by my Sister's black lab GOING ballistic and what she thinks is the sound of breaking glass. She sneaks through the house to the front door where the dog is going absolutely MENTAL. She peeps through the door and sees one of Anne Arundel Counties Finest. She opens the door a crack and notices that it is not ONE police officer, but 11. All standing in their front yard and in various states of preparedness to initiate a seige. (one of the officers was assembling a trebuchet of sorts)

The Officer closest the door says "We are looking for T and we know he is in there". My Neice, slightly dazed from being awoken in such a manner, looks at the officer and says "T?" "Yes, T" is the irritated reply.

Neice: "Um, we dont have anyone living here that either goes by that name or has that initial."

Cop: "We would like to search the house. How many bedrooms upstairs? And who is in them?"

At this point my Sister is now at the door (the dog hiding on her bed woke her up apparently. He is not the bravest of animals.) and they invite the officers in.

Turns out, their next door neighbor, who is Pakistani, has a son with a name that begins with a Z. And the cops heard it wrong.

The twunt had apparently burglarized a home and one of their 'other' neighbors said they saw someone fitting his description going into my Sisters house.

Twunting punk.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 16:50, Reply)
Isnt that bloke dead....hes the one off of life of grime!
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 16:49, Reply)
if housemates count...
final year at uni, i shared with an OCD sufferer who used to keep his urine in jars in his bedroom (We only found out when he spilled one of them).
He'd spend an hour and a half in the bathroom every morning, yet we neverheard the tap running once. In the next room to him there was a nigerian fellow, 7th day adventist who worked for the ministry of defence in some capacity, was ok until his friend was killed in a road accident. After that he'd drink those huge bottles of white cider and cry for hours, cradling a pistol he'd somehow managed to acquire.
Upstairs from them there were two bosnian refugees who never left the house and only ever seemed to wear underpants. I once caught them hugging in the kitchen and they seemed quite embarrassed.

All that with no bathroom ceiling or hall floor, a bargain at £75 per week
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 16:24, Reply)
Several years in student bedsits
introduced me to the following

- Mr Stirling, who went out every morning at the dot of the offies opening for twelve cans of Tennents Lager. He'd come back, sit in his room and swear to himself all day, pausing only occasionally to piss/shit in a bucket. He'd save it up till it was brimming over, and then take it downstairs to the communal loo to empty it. He got put into an old folks home after his arse literally exploded on the landing one day.
- Mr Todd. Looked like Frankenstein's assistant. Could have been anywhere between 35 and 75. His mother rang him at 6 bloody am daily, on the communal phone outside my flat, and he would shriek to her in an incredibly high pitched voice. Me and my only sane flatmate got custody of his keys one day to let workmen in in his absence. We sneaked a look at his tiny room - every available flat surface was covered in tinfoil.
-Victor. Technically was my neighbour, but I found out more about his oddness when I moved into his old room. Contents of the wardrobe included a ladies' coat and a pibroch. However the clincher was the two MASSIVE murals of New York skyscrapers, which Victor had done by blu-takking over 700 dominoes to the wall. They refused to budge as well.
- And finally Bruce from Zimbabwe. Actually quite attractive, and seemed quite normal until he started knocking on my door at all hours to ask if he could a) get a snog and/or b) watch his porn on my video recorder. Just before I moved out, he got a new girlfriend who looked worryingly like me.

If you're looking for stuff to fill your memoirs, people, I heartily recommend bedsit-land in Glasgow.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 16:15, Reply)
I live in a nice neighbourhood
Unfortunatly they built a load of "low priced" housing just up the road - since then the crime rate has gone up by 15x and my skyline got "keyed" the other day. There will soon be a time where I become the scary neighbour and start smashing little chavy heads in with a pitchfork
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 16:05, Reply)
Need I say more...

(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 15:58, Reply)
I live in a council block of flats
I know that at the end of our road one person was found dead due to an overdose. He was in the shed, his friends did not know where else to store him.
A long time back just after I moved in an upstairs neighbour stabbed his son in the leg with a fork. The son was seen pegging it across the other side of the road with just a blanket and his boxer shorts with the fork still in his leg. They used to throw used needles over their balcony. They left not long after.
Finally we have the old guy at the end of our block who used to be a prison warden. He struts down the street with his keys on a chain, topless and shouts at people. Thing is he's got a girl living with him he calls his "grand daughter" he must be 80 odd and she's just over 18 by now. We often hear them screaming down the street including jems like "i'm never giving you a blow job again you smelly old fucking bastard" I've also seen her parked up in a taxi paying for her ride with a blowjob before heading home. Council flats are classy.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 15:52, Reply)
I live in a well to do neighborhood in the states. The woman over the road shot herself in the head, her husband and kid went mad and started digging holes in the backyard. Another one got dumped by her ex husband and ended up seeing the plumber after he found her naked in the back yard. One family are a bit uptight - the mother is an anal retentive Stepford type and her husband is seeing the local dominatrix (round the corner). Their kids are nightmares. One woman burnt down another one of the houses belonging to this blonde slut who was trying to screw the plumber but ended up screwing everyone else. An old woman over the way got killed and we reckon it was the other dead ones husband. Her sister moved in and was a bit weird and ended up kidnapping the son of the first dead one. Stepford's son ran over the fit foreign looking ones mother in law. Her son is a criminal under permanent house arrest - he's off to prison soon. There was a baby over the road but she disappeared. I wonder what will happen next year?
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 15:44, Reply)
my neighbour
has extra loud baboon sex that i can hear through my wall. It is only scary once you have seen my neighbour.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 15:15, Reply)
Street from the black lagoon
My street is some kind of strange backwater, completely removed from the nice, sunday morning mowing the lawn kinda village that surrounds it. In this street everybody seems to be related to the family next door or across the road. Last week I heard this little gem from over the garden fence, (mother to 7 year old son), "what have I told you about fucking swearing you stupid little cunt!? laugh??? I nearly got the ale in!. Other gems include the whole clan in the middle of the street (average age 45) beered up, playing badminton at 1.30am on a Thursday. One rather unsuspecting young fellow made the mistake of trying to burglerise one of the houses, got caught, slapped purple by about 20 of them and dumped 30 miles out in the middle of the moors. Elvis and his pink Cadillac practising 'its now or never' till all hours, skillfully backed up by some Cozy Powell wannabe 3 houses away.


some girls like it that wide
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 15:15, Reply)
Having now told my mum about this ere thread
She's reminded me that when she and my dad were bedsitting in some scummy burb in Sheffield, they lived next door to pot farm. A one room pot farm, run like a business. Run like a business by a professional dancer more commonly known to his friends (inc. parents of the me) as 'little Steve', who never wore anything except those shiny leotard trousery things and flouncy shirts. No wonder my parents looked way happier in the photos pre marriage.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 15:04, Reply)
feckin' weird
Our old neighbours were like in that film , you know, "The Omen". The boy was blonde and blue eyed and weird, the mother strangely nervous and silent, the bloke wide eyed and creepy. He just stared a lot. And furniture moved around at all hours of the night. And my Dad SWORE he heard the little boy talk in a deep throaty voice once...

While I'm at it, there's a house near the top of our street where the windows are so dirty you can't see inside. No-one has ever seen anyone go out of or into that house. The letterbox is nailed shut and the grass in the front yard is knee high. But every day the car outside dissapears in the morning and reappears at night. How does he do it?! How?! It defys all logic. We think he can teleport, or is invisible...

Rural villages are a breeding ground for odd people.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 14:49, Reply)
On and on down on my knees
Monkeys live in my neighbors trees

By me and malechick
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 14:26, Reply)
I once made the mistake of living in a bedsit, with a 50 quid deposit
To set the scene, it was the early 90s in Brighton (when it was a cheap place full of gayers, druggies, excentrics, and the clinically insane, rather than the home for white collar workers who can't hack London/Barley by sea it is now). My closest neighbour, well I didn't realise that she was mad, untill my Landlord asked me how I was getting on with her, to which I replied: 'fine, she seems to have loads of mates, shes allways on the phone to them' to which there was a long pause, and the landlord calmly said 'ahh, there is no phone line in the room' (this being in the days before affordable mobiles). She used to have an imaginary lover in the shower called 'Wayne'. Unfortunately the shower room was directly above my room. She also used to dress in full on heavy winter gear, irrespective of the heat/cold outside causing local shop owners in the heat of summer to visably wince when they saw her. Just before she got sectioned, she and the junkie who lived upstairs (just got back from india, took so much acid that he got into smack to sort his head out) used to have terrible fights outside my door. When she moved out, a skinhead from Crawley moved in 'to avoid the heat'. He was quite quiet, but when I was invited in for a smoke, the first thing I noticed was the handgun on the sofa, to which I quickly agreed that 'no I hadn't seen it either'.

However the neighbour from hell out was the cheeky scouser who suplemented his income support by selling the white, and the brown. I'm 99% certain that him or one of his mates burglarised my room. I was invited in for a smoke at about 3am (well ok, ordered to share my weed with him). What greeted my eyes was a scene from a Chanel 4 docudrama. Him, and his mate were pacing up and down with their shirts off, talking loudly, occasionally stopping for a line of charlie. In the dead centre of the room was a sofa, with a 2 year old sat upon it. Wide awake and bored out of her skull, being completly ignored untill out of sheer boredom she started painting herself with her food. This caused said skaggy scouser's mate (apparently the father) to explode with rage, no physial violence but alot of shouting. A couple of weeks later Mr Scally was taken away by the police, only to re-ermerge a couple of days later. Unfortunately I was the only person to answer the door, he then threatened me with a large knife, so I hid in my room, with my finger hovering over the 9 key on the phone. I came down stairs the next morning to see the door and various bits of pannelling in his room (well the door was open) had been completely stripped.

yeah, lenght girth issues I know
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 14:05, Reply)
Mine aren't so bad...
Just amusing.

On one side i've got "The Slaters" named after the house full of banshees of Eastenders... a single mother and 3 teenage lasses. The mother is seeing 2 fellas from what i can gather who both drive pimp'd up cars - then there's the numerous boyfriends of the 3 scallies and their 'jucied' up novas/astras/insert euro box here - When they're all round on sundays - it's like a scence from "The Fast and The Furious" when they get busted by the rozzas - they all wheel spin and peel away from the house like bats out of hell!

On the otherside there's a kindly old gentleman who ain't too bad - except he does his own washing, not very well, and hangs his skidder'd kegs on the washing line in front of our kitchen window. chunky.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 13:55, Reply)
Psycho Bitch From Hell
I used to live in a small block of flats. This completley mad woman lived in the flat below. She didn't have a proper job (She was a stripper, but used to say she was a dancer. With a face like hers, you'd think she was a experimental drug candidate)

We used to call her 'Puuka', cos you could often hear her making herself sick.

Loud parties at 3 am (weeknights) Abusive to anyone who dare comment. Used to wake her various boyfriends/clients up in the middle of the night just to scream and shout... throw furniture around etc.

What makes it really gauling is that one night (weeknight, 2am) she suddenly starts yelling (happy yelling, not angry this time) still throwing stuff around and carries this out into the street. Turns out the bitch has won 50 grand on the lottery.

On the plus side, she sodded off to Thailand for six months... but the down side was that when she got back, she was twice as bad because she didn't have to work any more.

Where's karma when you need it?
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 13:30, Reply)
Where to Start
Funnily enough they were all when I was living in the same flat in 'ackney, where my ex-housemate still resides.

Neighbour 1. Shouty Drunk Man. Pretty self explainatory, except he has a great big Alsation which barks at all hours and which he let do Elephant size dumps in the stairwell.

Neighbour 2. Rat boy. Toothless inbred who lives on the same level as said flat and spends his days swearing loudly at his elderly parents who he lives with. He's pushing 35 and has obviously never had a job.

Neighbour 3. Scary Lady. Lives next to Rat boy which she shares and open house policy with rat boy. I once walked past her front door which was open and think I saw rat boy doing something unspeakable with scary lady.

Neighbour 4. Mad Lady. Imagined noises from the flat I lived in and took revenge by phoning council/police three to four times a week to report us for noise polution. Once I was in bed (alone) in the middle of the afternoon and heard her screaming for us to keep the noise down (?). Her best vendetta is against the lady who owns the paper shop on the corner though. She has had her husband up for attempted murder. We escaped lightly.

That's your lot.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 13:01, Reply)
My next door neighbour lost his hand/arm just below the elbow in an accident - and use to walk round the street with various attachments - hooks & spears - and when your 5 years old - that's scary!
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 12:55, Reply)
Bulldyke Blues
I hate my mum's neighbour, who was my neighbour up until I decided to be a grown up and fend (ish) for myself.
The BIGGEST, most wobblesome bulldyke of a woman. Seriously. Things she's annoyed me with include:

-reporting us to the RSPCA for having cats. Not giving them a reason but advising them they'd like to give us a check. She's called them more than once.
-She has a cat. Well, had. I found said puss kind of KOd at the side of the road, so I put it in a shoebox, wrapped in a towel. Went up to her house (not with cat) and asked if I could break some news to her- when asked what, I told her; asked her if she'd like the body to bury and she told me to 'keep it yourself if it's so important.' (!!)
-She got very drunk at one of her all night house parties (loud, obnoxious affairs, usually during exam periods) and pointed right into my mums face and told her she was common and that she was 'on thirty grand, not like you scum'. (My mother earns rather a shiteload of money, god bless her. And wasted no time in telling her how much, down to the last penny ).

Oh, and she used to shag many varying men. Noisily. Thin ones as well. I worried about them.

God, I hate the bitch. Thank christ she lets the house to students now. Nice students who appreciate my mum's offers of tea and a hand with their day to day stuff.

EDIT- can't believe I forgot this. If we'd particularly pissed her off recently, she used to empty her late cat's litter tray on our patio. Or throw her empty gin bottles into our bushes.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 12:53, Reply)
He's a greasy lover.
The house we used to live in had some bizarre neighbours. We used to call them 'Greasy Lover' and 'Horrorwoman'. He had a quiff which was impossible as defined by the laws of physics, she was just simply an ugly fat beast-munter. And they were both nearly 50.

They used to hold parties every weekend. Nothing wrong with that, but these used to go on until 6 or 7am on a Monday morning. And the music? Country and Western. That's not all. These freaks had disco lights. This is in a two-up/two-down terrace. It was that bad that I was getting up for work and they'd still be going, singing karaoke to Elvis. My girlfriend (now wife) used to regularly get out of bed and sleepwalk, thinking they were in the house it was that loud.

Just before we moved out, Horrorwoman moved in her army of offspring. Cue three weeks of not just parties, but also a gaggle of spotty kids bouncing round the house.

Then one day, they disappeared. Never saw them again.

No apologies for length, because it was quite short. Much shorter than the cat turd the missus left smeared around the lid of their dustbin after being kept awake all night, though.
(, Wed 31 Aug 2005, 11:57, Reply)

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