Well, I think three times in five weeks allows it to be classified as a regular occurrence!
It would seem that the inhabitant of the downstairs front bedroom has thrown up out of his window again. I came home at lunchtime to find that someone had made an attempt that I can only describe as half-arsed to clean it up, by throwing a bowl of soapy water at it. Of course, this has just swished it around, and hasn’t cleaned up anything of any note. Before I couldn’t stand to look anymore, I noticed that it had spilled down over the window sill as well.
As the soft spring breeze caught the aroma, I almost … well, I assume you can imagine?
The other morning, as I was leaving for work, I heard shouting (of the gutteral “OI!” variety) coming the downstairs front window. When I turned around, I was greeted with a flick of fingers and a hearty “fuck off”. I’m not sure what I did to deserve such a send-off, but it’s always nice to be thought of as I begin my working day, to provide supported living facilities for my inconsiderate, ungrateful, swamp-donkey neighbours.
Have I mentioned how much I love this town?
All Pinky, No Brain 