Ok so I managed to do the first post successfully AND link my web page to it - I feel SO clever!
Now these Hoors...
Since the council put stupid great wheelie bins (great enough to house an entire brothel... never mind great enough to house their rubbish) outside our flats, we have been mercifully saved from the plague of seagulls that rip open our bin bags. Yaay. This is a good thing. Trust me on this. I remember the time when I got out of my bed one fine sunny June morning to discover the seagulls had been at my neighbours' bin bags. *shudders* It didn't take too long to figure that the strawberries and *cream* (I think you know what I mean) belonged to the GROUND FLOOR LEFT flat. Seagulls obviously find used condoms as appetising as the rest of us.
They've been there for over 5 years... I bought my flat in may 1998... Three months later I noticed the ground floor flat had their own buzzer. "Interesting..." I thought... "Obviously their buzzer isn't working either." "Oooh!" I thought... "They've got a videocamera in there too!" well that's a useful thing, isn't it?
Now at this time (I think it's important for me to point out) I worked for a popular UK company, Ann Summers. And when Thai balls come through the post? Trust me. There is only one thing in the world is weighted and shaped like Thai balls... and that's Thai balls. "Interesting..." I thought... "What broad minded neighbours I have"
One day I came into the tenement. The father of the lassie in the flat across from theirs was in the lobby. "Hello" says he, frantically making eyes at the eyeshadowed blonde peeping from behind the door of Ground Floor Left...
"Interesting" thinks I... "What red lips my neighbours have..." "What lacy underwear my neighbours have..."
A week later my buzzer goes in the middle of the night, yet again... Wrong buzzer again... "Interesting..." I say to myself... "How popular my neighbours are..."
A couple of days after that, I'm in the shower getting ready to go out "ZZZZZTTTT!!!" goes my buzzer... "Arse!" goes I... "ZZZZTTTTT!" goes my buzzer... "You're early!" cries I... and lets my friend into the flat... Except it wasn't my friend... just an edgy looking young boy looking for "Jessica." "Interesting?!" says I... "No Jessica in this block of flats..." as I shut the door in his face and my beefy next door neighbour escorts him out of the building...
Two days later my upstairs neighbour (J. for those of you in the know) had a few quiet words with me. The words were something like "Do you know what's going on on the ground floor?" and in a few seconds the penny had dropped. How dumb am I?
What would my parents think?
And so the adventure began...
Well... Not that many years ago I lived above a brothel in the Grey Toon in Scotland. Out of a confused mixture of irritation and amusement, I started to blog about it.
