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, November 01, 2006

Neighbours From Hell (because I enjoy a good pun as much as anyone else)

Yeah! So it's been Hallowe'en.

And last night, in between worshipping the ancestors, cuddling ravens and dancing widdershins round our local bonfire, I popped home for supplies.

And, making a hell of a lot of noise getting in the front door (broomstick got wedged in the hinges), I obviously sounded like a punter arriving. So as I was passing the Hoors flat, the door opened - and there stood one of the more attractive Ebony Divas grinning out at me - clad in a red nightie, wearing CFM Red lipstick and boots, holding a three-pronged-forky-thing and matching horns.

Neighbour From Hell.


Oh nevermind.

Anyway. I saluted her with my broom and cackled and she went "OOOOOOhhh ahahahaha! Marvellous!"
I love a hoor that observes her traditional holidays. Can't wait to see what she does for Guy Fawkes...

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