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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When I lived (briefly) in London...
...with my mate Glaston, we got a band going (we're both guitarists) and used to practise quite often, as well as playing lots of music. We weren't the scary neighbours though, no. That kind of thing was de rigeur around there. They were the crackheads who lived downstairs who, whenever they saw us shouted random stuff like "Musician! Hello musician! Love your music!" and then sung bizarre tunes that didn't sound like anything we'd ever played.
Occasionally they'd pop up to knock on our door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar as well. By "borrow", they meant "have", of course. Which was no problem, other than for the time when we literally didn't have any sugar, and a truly frightening screaming, shouting and crying tantrum ensued.
Glaston thought they were funny, I was scared though.
Ah, Michael Cliffe - happy days!
(some kind of length joke alluding to high-rise accomodation)
( , Fri 26 Aug 2005, 13:20, Reply)
...with my mate Glaston, we got a band going (we're both guitarists) and used to practise quite often, as well as playing lots of music. We weren't the scary neighbours though, no. That kind of thing was de rigeur around there. They were the crackheads who lived downstairs who, whenever they saw us shouted random stuff like "Musician! Hello musician! Love your music!" and then sung bizarre tunes that didn't sound like anything we'd ever played.
Occasionally they'd pop up to knock on our door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar as well. By "borrow", they meant "have", of course. Which was no problem, other than for the time when we literally didn't have any sugar, and a truly frightening screaming, shouting and crying tantrum ensued.
Glaston thought they were funny, I was scared though.
Ah, Michael Cliffe - happy days!
(some kind of length joke alluding to high-rise accomodation)
( , Fri 26 Aug 2005, 13:20, Reply)
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