The police were here again today. These were proper exciting police who were looking for the ned downstairs that keeps me up late at night playing crap rave music and having people screaming and bleeding all over the stairwell.
And they were IN PLAIN CLOTHES! (which is relatively more exciting than your bobby on the beat)
They didn't know what flat he lived in and I was a bit unwilling to give any information until they showed me their ID's.
"Police eh? It'll be him downstairs"
I managed to restrain myself from saying "Unless you're after the Pimp for the ground floor?"
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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