Every now and again, something bloody wierd happens and you never quite find out exactly what's been going on. Sometimes there is the odd dent in the pannelling on the stairs, sometimes there is blood on a doorframe...
Tonight I really want to go to the chinese for some chicken. But there is NO WAY I am setting foot out that door...
I was having a snooze when a door slams and some screaming begins. Well... screaming isn't really the word. Neither is shouting. It was more like roaring or bellowing... Full-on angst-ridden terrifying bellowing right outside my door. It went on for about 5 minutes while I didn't dare move and then stopped... I haven't heard anyone move since and that was half an hour ago. And more importantly, I haven't heard anyone leave the tennement. Sod the chicken.
It was like someone had Father Jack Hackett in a cage...
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.
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