Neighbours from Hell, or specifically Byker Grove.
Just been catching up on the posts here, and chortled at the neighbours one. Did comment, but thought I'd elaborate (and bore the tits of ye all!).
Two years ago we bought a sweet little house in a sweet little terraced street in a shabbily genteel seaside village. Oh domestic bliss! Oh felicitous harmony! It lasted two weeks (during which point Swamp Donkey and Cave Troll must have been away). I spotted from our bedroom window the arrival of a large shed, positioned where we had a lovely view. And what did the fuckers put in this shed??? Drums, that's what. Right by the bedroom window.
Being thespians (she a bit part actress, he a drummer in a folk band), they have nocturnal hours, which is fine. By the feckers are also deaf, and spend their nights hurling abuse at one another, which, whilst funny in that the aruguments are usually over something mundane like Eric's missing jumper, they generally evolved into language fests that went on. And on.
And then the four day parties started - good effort for people in their fifties who look like animated corpses in the daylight. OK on a weekend, not so good on a Monday night when they give you two hours sleep before work, and then THEY get to go to bed. The parties involved loud people sat under our bedroom window all night talking about how utterly fabulous they are (more bloomin' thespians...) and smashing bottles off the walls until 6am. We have an excellent music system however, that pumped the likes of Marilyn Manson back at them (and erm, Meatloaf complete with my yodelling at them) all day long. Petty, but satisfying. Oh, we also left a dead armadillo in their uncut grass and planted lotsa hemp in there for them...and reported them to the council as nuisance neighbours because they refused to answer the door when we knocked to complain (they said we were threatening and scary. Oh boo hoo you fat ugly untalented bitch).
Anyway, end of rant. If you want to see the fat ugly old troll you can find her here...n.b. her role in The League of Gentlemen series 3 was as Fat Lady hatpins, who gets suffocated in the episode in the B&B where they have the sex party....oh how we laughed! She says two words! She also died in Holby City with what we like to think of as her 'poo face' being her death mask.
Needless to say we moved, though our dispute knocked £10k off the value of our house (and the constant drumming didn't help either). The people who bought the house were musicians, so no doubt they're all happy together.....
Two years ago we bought a sweet little house in a sweet little terraced street in a shabbily genteel seaside village. Oh domestic bliss! Oh felicitous harmony! It lasted two weeks (during which point Swamp Donkey and Cave Troll must have been away). I spotted from our bedroom window the arrival of a large shed, positioned where we had a lovely view. And what did the fuckers put in this shed??? Drums, that's what. Right by the bedroom window.
Being thespians (she a bit part actress, he a drummer in a folk band), they have nocturnal hours, which is fine. By the feckers are also deaf, and spend their nights hurling abuse at one another, which, whilst funny in that the aruguments are usually over something mundane like Eric's missing jumper, they generally evolved into language fests that went on. And on.
And then the four day parties started - good effort for people in their fifties who look like animated corpses in the daylight. OK on a weekend, not so good on a Monday night when they give you two hours sleep before work, and then THEY get to go to bed. The parties involved loud people sat under our bedroom window all night talking about how utterly fabulous they are (more bloomin' thespians...) and smashing bottles off the walls until 6am. We have an excellent music system however, that pumped the likes of Marilyn Manson back at them (and erm, Meatloaf complete with my yodelling at them) all day long. Petty, but satisfying. Oh, we also left a dead armadillo in their uncut grass and planted lotsa hemp in there for them...and reported them to the council as nuisance neighbours because they refused to answer the door when we knocked to complain (they said we were threatening and scary. Oh boo hoo you fat ugly untalented bitch).
Anyway, end of rant. If you want to see the fat ugly old troll you can find her here...n.b. her role in The League of Gentlemen series 3 was as Fat Lady hatpins, who gets suffocated in the episode in the B&B where they have the sex party....oh how we laughed! She says two words! She also died in Holby City with what we like to think of as her 'poo face' being her death mask.
Needless to say we moved, though our dispute knocked £10k off the value of our house (and the constant drumming didn't help either). The people who bought the house were musicians, so no doubt they're all happy together.....
posted by Ginger Doll at 5:14 AM
5 Comments:
god, what a terrible story - they sound appalling. and I like a party! but good grief, you did well not to murder them!
Perhaps distant cousins of my neighbors, only yours had some amount of flair. And where on earth did you get an armadillo?! I hope your situation has since improved with neighbors that are at least more normal than that!
We have lovely neighbours now...quiet, friendly, don't have snot encrusted beards and alcohol problems...
I think what peed us off so much is the fact you have to declare disputes with your neighbours when you sell your house, which is why we lost money, because we were honest (which means we can't be sued...). The people who bought it actually went to meet them before they would sign the contract. I think the Donkey was on her best behaviour as they were as desperate to be away from us as we were from them...
Some friends of ours gave us the armadillo...they have a knack of finding gruesome stuffed animals, but they wouldn't give us their skinned fox (n.b. it's a least 150 years old and moth eaten, NOT newly skinned) - I thought it would look good on a pole in front of their front door.
Still, next time I find a dead squid on the beach I know what to do with it....
I used to work in a theatre bar and I can confirm that actors are the most selfish, narcissistic galloping fuckwits you will ever have the misfortune to come across.
Especially the bit-part or 'resting' variety (ooh they're all desperatley insecure really you know...)
I remember last time my neighbours(the other side to the ones I mentioned before)put their(shit) music up (really) loud, clearly to piss us off and take the piss(piss, piss, piss!) Thankfully, my house has a decent hi-fi. Also thankfully, I happen to like System Of A Down. Hah! Suffice to say they turned their music down!
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