After attending the Cullerlie Traditional Singing Weekend the past three days (My Neighbours Were Folkie Folks In Tents), I promised some to make the link to the Hoors Song easier to find.
So here it is: http://myneighboursarehoors.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-wrote-song.html
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.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Home. Aaaah. Home. Sweet Home.
So yes.
I have been Absent. Not just mentally (that is nothing new) , but from t'internet as a whole. For an awfy long time. And why? I hear you ask impatiently?
Well, I couldn't really say anything about it at the time without giving away my oh-so-secret identity, but...
After 10 years in my flat, I started getting itchy feet. Looking at the housing market, I decided that if there was any time to get a ridiculous price for my flat, then 2008 was the time.
Ladies and Gennlemen... I have moved. I was no longer Neighbour Of Teh Hoors... Now I have gone even further and am now Ex-No-Longer-Neighbour-Of-Teh-Hoors.
At this point I have to say that keeping a blog about the selling of my flat and subsequent house hunting would have been BLOODY HILAROUS. Sadly you won't see that here unless I go back in fill in the spaces. Which I might do. I'm just DYING to tell you all about the woman in Cove who didn't tidy away her 40yo son's porn collection... But I digress.
Suffice to say that I have upped and gone from the Grey Toon and flitted far, far, away. Well about 20 miles or so anyway. I am now in Commutersville! (no. you probably won't find that on googlemaps)
This means a few potential changes to the blog:
1) I have to call it "My Neighbours Aren't Hoors" for fear of having a very strong wireless broadband connection and my new neighbours logging on to the Beechgrove Garden web page, only to get paranoid that I think they're running a brothel, not the local chapter of the WRI.
2) I can tell you lots of scandalous stuff I couldn't tell you before about my old neighours! Except that they were all so damn lovely and that I'm going to miss them LOTS. Seriously. After all the undesirables left, we were a harmonious little tennement with cheery vibes that would rival the residents of Sesame Street
3) I can tell you all about the sad demise of the Hoors. I can tell you what actually happened. Why they left, where they went, and how we all had to go to court to do our bit for Queen and country! (Actually, maybe I can't. I'm sure there's some law about not doing any of that before it's been in the Peenj. Hrm. I will find out.)
Anyway, that's enough for now. I will continue when I have the energy. All this unpacking, painting, drinking of Asda's Cava and sharing of cups of sugar with the new neighbours is tiring you know...
Until then, toodle pip!
I have been Absent. Not just mentally (that is nothing new) , but from t'internet as a whole. For an awfy long time. And why? I hear you ask impatiently?
Well, I couldn't really say anything about it at the time without giving away my oh-so-secret identity, but...
After 10 years in my flat, I started getting itchy feet. Looking at the housing market, I decided that if there was any time to get a ridiculous price for my flat, then 2008 was the time.
Ladies and Gennlemen... I have moved. I was no longer Neighbour Of Teh Hoors... Now I have gone even further and am now Ex-No-Longer-Neighbour-Of-Teh-Hoors.
At this point I have to say that keeping a blog about the selling of my flat and subsequent house hunting would have been BLOODY HILAROUS. Sadly you won't see that here unless I go back in fill in the spaces. Which I might do. I'm just DYING to tell you all about the woman in Cove who didn't tidy away her 40yo son's porn collection... But I digress.
Suffice to say that I have upped and gone from the Grey Toon and flitted far, far, away. Well about 20 miles or so anyway. I am now in Commutersville! (no. you probably won't find that on googlemaps)
This means a few potential changes to the blog:
1) I have to call it "My Neighbours Aren't Hoors" for fear of having a very strong wireless broadband connection and my new neighbours logging on to the Beechgrove Garden web page, only to get paranoid that I think they're running a brothel, not the local chapter of the WRI.
2) I can tell you lots of scandalous stuff I couldn't tell you before about my old neighours! Except that they were all so damn lovely and that I'm going to miss them LOTS. Seriously. After all the undesirables left, we were a harmonious little tennement with cheery vibes that would rival the residents of Sesame Street
3) I can tell you all about the sad demise of the Hoors. I can tell you what actually happened. Why they left, where they went, and how we all had to go to court to do our bit for Queen and country! (Actually, maybe I can't. I'm sure there's some law about not doing any of that before it's been in the Peenj. Hrm. I will find out.)
Anyway, that's enough for now. I will continue when I have the energy. All this unpacking, painting, drinking of Asda's Cava and sharing of cups of sugar with the new neighbours is tiring you know...
Until then, toodle pip!
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