Hmmm. Now that I'm back from working abroad, I can tell you about the full tragedy unfolding upstairs.
When I arrived home this evening, there was *stuff* everywhere around their flat - kind of like when we were students and the woman downstairs kept throwing her boyfriend's stuff out of the window (which was particularly amusing at the time if anyone wants to hear about it).
*Stuff* includes another 2 leaking bin bags and an armchair (that looks like it's been nicked from the local) sitting on the stairs, a blender (containing red substances unknown) on the landing and some particularly nasty pants hanging from the railing.
Wonder if they're being chucked out? How will we sleep at night!?!?!
Answer: Soundly.
Well... Not that many years ago I lived above a brothel in the Grey Toon in Scotland. Out of a confused mixture of irritation and amusement, I started to blog about it.
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