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, July 20, 2004


I feel like I haven't slept for a week... No longer do I seem to be able to sleep through just any noise. The plan is as follows:

1) Purchase Marschal Stacks
2) Place said stacks face down on floor
3) Borrow crap music selection* from colleague at work (who buys whole boxes at car boot sales and treats us to the dregs)
4) Wait until the 24 Hour Party People are all partied out (it MUST happen sometime and I am prepared to wait)
5) Put said crap music on repeat and go out for the day. AHAHAHAHAHAHA! (Much maniacal laughter)

* "The Magic of Brass," "Harry Secombe - the Early Years," "The Yodelling LP," "101 Tinkly Piano Hits by Wayne Karr"

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