Hoors? Yeah... Hoors. Prostitutes, Tarts, Hookers, Ladies of Negotiable Affection, call them what you will. For 8 years or so I lived in granite tenement. My Neighbours Were Hoors. Sadly for us all (!?) the brothel was closed down and I moved out of the area. I never did get around to writing about the court case though...

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

Ello Ello Ello

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?"

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