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...

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Time for A Change

So yeah.

Anyone who has vaguely followed My Neighbours Are Hoors over the past few years or who has even had more than a casual glance, will realise that my Neighbours Are No Longer Hoors.

First of all they got closed down by the Polis and then I moved out into a much more salubrious neigbourhood.

So the front page of the blog needs a bit of an update. Hence I will change the sidebar.

Just for my own reminiscence, I'm going to cut and paste in the stuff from the sidebar that I'm going to change.

Aaaah memories...

First, here's the intro. I put this in so that noone would think I was having a go at the hoors. I never got that many flames though - just the odd "Heymin, is it nae a bit sad tae spend a' yer time writin aboot yer neighbours?" which begged the obvious response "bugger aff"

Yup. My neighbours are Ladies of Negotiable Affection... and it's TOO INTERESTING not to share.

* Yeah... My Neighbours Are Hoors. This is a blog mainly about the brothel on the ground floor and what its occupants get up to. Hoors is my affectionate term for them. I'd like new visitors to my blog to know that I really don't intend to cause any offence to the girls downstairs. I respect what they do. Sometimes though, the goings-on are just too enjoyable not to go down in writing!

Names have been changed to protect the... um... er... Innocent?

Well I did change the names... Up til I moved out of the block of flats, only one neighbour gave me a nod and a wink about "When will you run out of things to write about." I did my best blank look. He was not fooled. I grinned. It was not brought up again. Either noone else from the tennement read the blog or they were too polite to mention it. Gawd bless you one and all...

Anyway... As of January 2006, this was the cast list:

The Main Characters- January 2006

* I have decided to list the main players in my blog in a handy column to ease any reader's confusion. That, and I want The Nice Neighbours to read this before they think I'm slagging them off and come downstairs to beat me up with a big hammer!

NEIGHBOUR OF TEH HOORS - i.e. ME. I have been living above a brothel for almost eight years. The novelty still hasn't worn off.

THE HOORS live on the ground floor in a one bedroom flat and are Prostitutes. They aren't from round these parts, but come up to The Grey Toon from places like London, Liverpool, Bristol and Birmingham because The Grey Toon is tolerant and full of oil money.

THE DEAD MAN is the (ex?) alcoholic who used to look like a Zombie. Has been looking very healthy lately, so I think he's given up the drink

THE COUNCIL MAN lives on the ground floor opposite the hoors and is a very nice man. He works for the council and once offered me the use of his drain rods.

SHETLAND BOY lives with his girlfriend in the flat above me. Both are ideal neighbours! Not actually from Shetland. I think one of my friends thought he was and so the name stuck.

SHETLAND GIRL owns the flat next to Shetland Boy and is also very lovely. She has moved out though and her Little Brother lives there now. Again, not actually from Shetland.

LITTLE BROTHER/BUSTED now live in Shetland Girl's flat. Seem to be very polite spikey haired youths.

TNWTCH or, The Neighbour With The Cool Hair - lives next to me. Also an ideal neighbour.

THE BOY is my boyfriend who moved in a month ago. So far he is not put off by the fact his girlfriend lives above a brothel

And finally there was the Suzi Quattro Disclaimer. Turns out I wasn't the only person spelling her name wrong :)

Suzi Quattro Disclaimer

* Many apologies to those who have been innocently Googling for the legendary leather clad songstrel, Suzie QUATRO. It seems you have been mis-spelling her name as badly as I. I know I'm now the 6th hit for this popular mis-spelling of her name, and would like to take this opportunity to point out that she is not a) my neighbour b) definitely doesn't get paid for nookie. That is all.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Christmas Close

It turns out that I have moved into Christmas Close.

1st of December, out came the European lightbulb mountain which was promptly stuck to the front of my neighbours houses. Our close glitters so much it's like someone covered us in glue and rolled us through Claire's Accessories.

I was considering how to react to this.

Would I...
a) Act the way I always do, wait until the 15th December (ish) and then put up my lovely tasteful tree the way I always do, whilst whistling along to White Christmas or whatever other "Christmas Classics" they have on TV

b) Go for the Ebeneezer option. Stick a dry twig in a pot, hang one solitary black bauble from it and stick the whole thing in the window. Buy one of B&Q's "festive" funereal wreaths for my front door. (Have you ever seen anything so inappropriate?)

c) Out-do everyone in the street by carrying out a cunning Italian-Job-type-ruse in Ford Fiesta in order to steal the Bon Accord's hideous singing Christmas Display Sodding MacHappy and Sodding MacHuggy (As beautifully rendered in this person's flickr - why Billy Connolly hasn't sued for defamation of character by now, I don't know) and staple it to my roof.

In the end I just went for option A. But - Drama! Dear readers! After years of not being able to use them in case the punters got confused by the red glow in the window, the sodding red tree lights finally gave up the ghost. We made a last minute trip in to town and went to B&Q who... had their blue LED lights on sale for LESS THAN A THIRD OF THE PRICE!!!

Delightedly, I grabbed some - thinking how well it would go well with my well coordinated Christmas colour scheme (Lawrence Llwellyn Bowen would have been really impressed, oh, about 3 years ago) - and wondering why on earth they'd reduce all these lovely blue bulbs!

I now know why. These things are so damn bright you could use them in an interrogation suite. I was thinking of getting eye laser surgery - but hey! I looked at my tree and now I've got 50/50 vision. If we ever need to really urgently communicate with aliens, I'm pretty sure we could use them to send morse code to reach far off depths of space...

I just had to switch off the pulse setting because the neighbours were complaining about all the aging ravers blocking up the street outside...