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...

Thursday, October 07, 2004

The Plan

Well it seems I'm all alone in the tennement. Things have been really quiet for weeks now.

The Brothel has been suspiciously free of bitch-fights in the street, agonised screams and accompanying whipping noises, and the comedy springs of passion...

The 24 Hour Party People appear to have been evicted. In retrospect this might be down to a disgruntled conversation the Dead Man and I had with a stern looking man in a raincoat who came looking for them with a clipboard and an official looking envelope...

In fact I've not even seen The Dead Man lately and there IS a bit of a strange smell coming from the 1st floor... Hmmm

Anyway! Until something fun happens, I'm have formulated a PLAN. And that plan is this:

1) Do something about that lawnmower
2) Once the lawnmower has gone, do something about the Hoors gift from Vegas
3) tell you about the "Best Insult Ever"
4) Tell you about the "Lady In Red"
5) Tell you about the "Screaming and the Cross-Eyed-Bruiser"
6) Tell you about some of the other neighbours of note that I've had (namely the Wife Killer and The Missionaries)
7) Tell you about what people search on to find my blog

Now. In order to have a FAQ... One needs questions and this is where you come in! :) It will be very much a work in progress and to start off it'll be SHIT. I'll put a link to it in the sidebar and update it whenever anyone asks a question. It'll be up to me whether or not I answer it, like ;)

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