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...

Monday, April 11, 2005

BLOOD! - an epilogue

OK, so when I saw the trail of blood the other day, I automatically assumed that it was leading to our tenemment. I never considered for a minute that it might actually be leading FROM the tenemment.

Those of you who have been reading for a while may remember the The Bloody Great Screw of Death. Which I predicted, back in September last year could only lead to grief.

And so it seems it has! There is blood on the front door (and with the door being a Lighter Shade of Vomit Yellow, it shows up quite well) and someone has taken a saw to the Bloody Great Screw of Death.

So there. The Mystery of the Trail Of Blood solved.

No comments: