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, May 31, 2006

When a Hoor had a go at Busted

So... that sunny afternoon when I was outside cleaning my car... Not only was I approached by Bill Oddie, but Shetland Boy came out on his way to work. We exchanged the usual pleasantries, discussed the broken door ("Probably due to the high amount of traffic we recieve") and just as he was about to leave, he asked "Did you get disturbed the other night by one of the hoors?"

"Um. No?" - I've gotten used to wearing earplugs you see and could sleep through a bomb nowadays - the hoors probably haven't become well behaved all of a sudden - they just don't waken me up anymore. "What happened?" I asked.

Apparently... Busted were up to their usual nonsense - music, screaming, smashing and the like and about 4am, Shetland boy and his girlfriend heard a door open and close on the ground floor and then one of the hoors started shouting up the stairs "Can you lot bloody 'ear me or wot!?"

Well, there was no response and so she stamped all the way up the stairs in her slippers and dressing gown and then started banging on the door screaming "I've lived here 10 bloody years and I've never 'eard the like!"

Then there was what the tabloid press would call a "ruckus" and eventually she must have terrified the spikey haired little darlings into shutting the hell up.

(Obviously Busted have a far higher volume than the Nazi Ned and his Orally Challenged girlfriend, or The Dead Man when he sings.)

(Oh, and she's not been here 10 years - that would mean that the brothel would have been in full swing 2 years before I moved in and there's no way I'd have bought my flat knowing there was a brothel on the ground floor!)

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