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...

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

I'm Not Alone!

J, who used to be my upstairs neighbour just mailed me the following article which appeared in the local paper while I was away.

It seems that I am not alone in being teh neighbour of teh hoors... perhaps I should keep my eye out for similar blogs in my city! :D

Placenames have been changed... to protect the, um. City reputation (?)


16:00 - 21 August 2004

Police have launched a crackdown on brothels in The Grey Toon.

Letters have been sent to solicitors and letting agents after police found people are letting properties for themselves then sub-letting them to prostitutes. Two women have been reported to the procurator fiscal as a result of the crackdown.

Three addresses were given in the Hardgate and Union Grove area of the city, where flats were being sub-let to prostitutes who were using them as brothels.

Grampian Police's Detective Chief Inspector Eric Leslie said: "As a result of this information we found that people are renting properties, which they themselves are leasing from agencies, to prostitutes to make money.

"In effect these people are party to habitual prostitution, which is an offence.
"We sent out the letters to raise awareness among businesses in The Grey Toon who are letting flats in the city.
"I felt it was important that they were made aware of what was happening.
"Officers have been calling round as well to let them know.
"The letter tells them that if they are aware that this kind of activity is going on they could be committing an offence."

Police discovered that some people are sub- letting the flats to the prostitutes for around £600 to £700 a week, more than they would be paying the letting agent in rent.

Investigations are continuing into the problem. But police are also hoping that if any solicitors or letting agents discover that people are breaking the law that they will contact them.

Another part of their ongoing investigation is newspaper advertisements placed by prostitutes. Hookers are using some newspapers to advertise "massages".

Within minutes of contacting one of the adverts in a national newspaper we found that a massage could cost around £40 but a range of "extra" services were on offer. Without further prompting a list of extras was given, including sex for £50 for half an hour. One woman who answered another line said that for an hour with one of the women it would cost £100. She said they had a number of women on offer. We passed our information on to the police.

DCI Leslie said those sub-letting the properties were charging the prostitutes a fortune in rent.
He said: "They are making a lot of money from it.
"It is a problem which we are addressing and, with the assistance of many others it is a problem that should go away.
"As you have discovered some girls advertise in newspapers with mobile phone numbers under different services.
"This is also something we are looking at."

DCI Leslie said that most of the prostitutes operating in The Grey Toon were from London, Manchester and Liverpool. But police have also found foreign nationals working as prostitutes in the city.

Prostitution is not just a problem within flats in the city. The Grey Toon still has a problem with prostitutes working the streets around the harbour. The Grey Toon has introduced an experimental tolerance zone to combat the street prostitution in the city. The zone covers St Clement Street, Miller Street and Church Street. If girls stick to working in these areas they are left along by police - if they step outside it they are arrested. A prostitute drop-in centre has also been introduced in the harbour area. The centre provides information about stopping or reducing drug-taking, employment and housing. The centre has two members of staff who are aiming to build up a trust with visitors.

However, a similar tolerance zone in Edinburgh no longer operates. The zone in Leith was axed after complaints by locals. But Independent MSP Margo MacDonald says that since the tolerance zone was scrapped assaults on prostitutes had soared 10-fold.

My conclusions?
1) I'm really quite privileged to have these fine women as my neighbours
2) You don't need good grammar or spelling to work for the local paper...

Sunday, August 22, 2004

A Falling Out

I'll keep this brief because, to be quite honest, I haven't a bloody clue what was going on last night...

I was woken up at about half three in the morning by bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang... (of the slamming on door kind, not of any other banging the hoors might be doing) and to start off with i didn't even realise the screaming was in english...

So it took me ages to wake up and figure out what was happening (as usual) and I figured out it was this:

1) two hoors work in the ground floor flat together (rather than one hoor and one welsh dumpling).
2) Hoor one has nicked 100 quid and run off with it.
3) Hoor one has shacked up with the 24 hour party people and is refusing to come out.
4) This is why Hoor two is now banging furiously on the door of the 24 hour party people and why I am not getting any sleep.

Evidence for this conclusion:
1) hoor number two banging on door of 24 hour party people in what I figured out to be a Yorkshire accent going "Come out ya bitch! That's my money too you know!"
2) Hoor number two going "If you don't come out I'm phoning the
3) Hoor number one and 24 hour party people keeping very still and silent.
4) Hoor number two making a very loud and pointed phonecall to the police featuring the following quotes:
- "Hi yes. My friend has stolen 100 quid and has shacked up with the wierdo druggie upstairs. She's not coming out"
- "No, we're both from leeds. We're just staying here with a... friend."
- "What do i want you to do about it? I want you to go in there and get me bloody munnee!"

I got names and ages and everything... but I won't use them. That'd be crass.

Saturday, August 21, 2004

Google Whacking

Sadly "Welsh Dumpling" is not a true Google Whack. Use inverted commas and this web page is the only result, but if you don't use them... This is the 12th result.

ooh and if you put in Hoors and Neighbours, I am most of the results! Me and religion.

God I'm bored.

The Welsh Dumpling

I was thinking about The Welsh Dumpling and how she's not been seen for so long.

She used to be the Madame of the House (of Negotiable Affection) and, sadly, I only ever had one encounter with her.

I was happily skipping down the stairs in my steel toe caps (which I wear for work, not for kicking people) at 7am and poor sleepy-headed Welsh Dumpling opened the door to the Hoor's flat.

"Good Morning" she croaked in a beautiful Valley lilt (honestly, she did!) "Do you live above me?"

I stopped on the bottom stair. I was Torn between being amused at the Welsh Dumpling (whom I'd read about on the "Which Hoor" webpage - see my post on 15 March 2004) and being guilty about waking the poor woman up. "No, I'm two floors up," I said.

"Oh right," she said sleepily. "It's just that... Well. I know that we ladies here can hardly complain, but whoever lives up there (she points), makes an AWFUL noise - and we're lacking our beauty sleep you see." (You have to read this in your head like Gladys from Hi De Hi to get the full effect)

I apologised for skipping about in my doc martens and told her he (the guy on the first floor) had sanded his floorboards and that was what was making the noise. She smiled and vanished back into her boudoir.

Now. I was delighted to find that the Welsh Dumpling was actually Welsh... and I can imagine that, in the eyes of some old punter, she could be a dumpling... but I have been thinking... And the results of my thoughts were this:

An equation. To describe the welsh dumpling (who is in one word, matronly.) And this can be summed up by the following graphic:

The Welsh Dumpling = Annie Walker off Coronation Street in the 80's + Peggy Mitchell off Eastenders in the 90's + Wales. (There may have been a bit of Tammy Wynette in there too, but I can't imagine the Welsh Dumpling standing by any man for more than 45 minutes.)

Thursday, August 19, 2004


The text equivalent of a tumbleweed rolls across my weblog.

I have been away for 3 weeks and there has been nothing broken, nothing stolen, no grafitti daubed, no car scratched, no credit cards nicked, no dead hoors in the newspapers, no windows smashed and no dog turds on the doorstep.

As part of my Pavlovian response... am I happy? Am I relaxed? Comfortable in my home environment? Chilled out? Pleased to see no death, vandalism, theft, vice or other chaos?

No. I'm bloody Suspicious. That's what.

Tuesday, August 17, 2004


I can't believe I've never told this story!

This one day I was coming down the stairs about 4pm. It was a bright and breezy saturday afternoon and I was absorbed in checking my mail. I trotted down the tennement stairs and I took a bite of my apple and read a postcard as I approached the tennement door. (Artistic licence). I flipped the latch and opened it... still absorbed by my (genius) postcard.

Outside there stood a meek and gentle man. He was short in stature with a childish chubby face and a puzzled expression. He was perusing the buzzers.

I stopped on the step for a brief second as I saw him. He looked confused, guilty, panicky and then appeared to reach some sort of conclusion all in the space of one second.

"Aaaah... ehhhh... Hello!" He said. He grinned. It's a stereotype, I know. but it was a sheepish grin.

"Hello." He said again. "I was told there was a... ehhh... Massage Parlour! In this here building" he grinned again, this time triumphantly.

I admit to rolling my eyes and pointing to their buzzer. If I was a liar as well as a storyteller, I'd have told you I pointed to the buzzer of the 6ft 4 bodybuilder on the 3rd floor.