a note to my neighbour

To the neighbour that had sex last night and was screaming his head off,

Thank you for proving that I would, at some point in my life, wish my ears would fall off. I guess I lost that bet. Here’s something you should never forget: The back street where my bedroom (and apparently yours also) sees, ECHOES. However, here are some pointers:

  • If you’re screaming louder than the woman, you’re doing something wrong
  • You should not pursue a career in singing
  • I didn’t hear the passion in your voice
  • Your G was a bit flat
  • The ending was a little sudden, try to work on that and don’t sound so surprised next time

Ta

11 thoughts on “a note to my neighbour

  1. I have a similar, but slightly crappier story. When I moved into my old place at 11pm every night I would hear this ‘squeeeeeeek, squeeeeeek, squeeeeek, squeeeek, squeeek, squeek… BANG! 11pm every night, it was so regular I could set a clock by it. One day I mentioned this to the guy living downstairs, how boring the sex the people upstairs must be having. He turned blue right in front of me and keeled over laughing. That squeeking sound wasn’t bed springs, it was them winding down the awning. Long squeeks at the start when they were working up the momentum, until BANG! It smacked against the side of the wall.

  2. How much money did you have to ask for to show your neighbor naked?

    Okay.. this doesn’t really do all that much for the stereotype of the square British persona.

    Was that guy really that bad? Maybe he was faking it.

  3. I am not sure what you were trying to say there…

    Well stereotypes still exist, that’s why they are stereotypes, even if they are not the rule.

    Yeah, he was bad, even if he was faking it. 😛

  4. Sorry… *stares at shoes* I hate it when I make people waste their coffee but I love it when I make them laugh. It’s so hard to choose between the two!

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