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, November 22, 2005

Naked Neighbour! Denied!

It must have been his birthday!

Or a sudden drive on energy-saving...

Or he has put on weight, caught leprosy and grown another head...

Or his mother has come to stay!

Anyway. Neighbours of this world weep, hang your heads, wail and grind your teeth...

For the naked man has bought curtains.


Sunday, November 13, 2005


5.30 on friday when I'd just got home from work. A sad looking man is at the front door of the tenement pressing the hoors buzzer.

I do the usual thing and sit in my car waiting for him to go in before I get out and let myself into the block of flats. (Usual unless I'm in a huff and in no way patient enough to give punters their brothel-entering privacy). I give the usual estimated amount of time before opening the door that will allow him to make his introduction to Hoor of the Week and get out of the hallway and into the hoor's flat.

So I've just got in the door and look up to see The Sad Man's face fall even more as the Hoor tells him she "cahn't do now, ye'll ave ta come back latur" and then quickly shuts the door in his face...

I had to feel sorry for the guy...

Bad enough to be a Sad Man having a bad day... but to be rejected by a Hoor?


Monday, November 07, 2005

The Death of Chivalry

Sunday afternoon and I'm struggling up the road with some flat pack furniture. I've just reached the door with my keys when a lanky streak of piss gets out of his car and presses the buzzer.

A hoor answers using the intercom - "Ello there?"

The lanky streak gives me a *look* and answers "Yer! Yer! It's... 'James'"

I'm trying to get my key in the lock at this point and the hoor-within uses the intercom to let him in to the building.

So desperate is he for a shag, that he shoves open the door (with my keys still in it!), dives in, and lets it slam in my face!

Truly Mrs Beaton would be turning in her grave...