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)
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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in my loverly neighborhood
In a flat adjacent to mine, there lives a tall, gaunt gentleman of indeterminate age (40-60ish.) On occasion, my roommate and I would hear high-pitched howling followed by a deep voice, and we'd look out the window and see only this man. Apparently, after an early afternoon-into-evening of drinking, he fancies a chat with himself in different voices. (I know it's early afternoon drinks, for I have seen him going into a dodgy bar up the road at about 1pm, regularly. They don't serve food at that bar, either.) My roommate and I would await his nightly rants, huddling under the window nearest his flat and giggling... until we heard him screaming about "all the dead women."
That's not all. I overheard him talking to a neighbor, saying that his arm was broken because he fell down the stairs in the local supermarket (where he works) because he was drunk on the job. Funnily enough, the local supermarket is a one-story building. No stairs.
( , Thu 25 Aug 2005, 21:57, Reply)
In a flat adjacent to mine, there lives a tall, gaunt gentleman of indeterminate age (40-60ish.) On occasion, my roommate and I would hear high-pitched howling followed by a deep voice, and we'd look out the window and see only this man. Apparently, after an early afternoon-into-evening of drinking, he fancies a chat with himself in different voices. (I know it's early afternoon drinks, for I have seen him going into a dodgy bar up the road at about 1pm, regularly. They don't serve food at that bar, either.) My roommate and I would await his nightly rants, huddling under the window nearest his flat and giggling... until we heard him screaming about "all the dead women."
That's not all. I overheard him talking to a neighbor, saying that his arm was broken because he fell down the stairs in the local supermarket (where he works) because he was drunk on the job. Funnily enough, the local supermarket is a one-story building. No stairs.
( , Thu 25 Aug 2005, 21:57, Reply)
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