Tales from the stairwell [ ‘They wee C–ts next door ]

Ah’d like, at this time, tae give a mention tae ‘Long John’, the Pirate He never accepts thanks for any thing that he does and ah wid like to use a Ricky Fultonism and take this opporchancity tae thank him for his contribution to ma wonderful day. Ah had Two bits of plywid, chipboard, whatever it’s called, that  ah had planned tae put the Train set on but it was awfy cumbersome and a cunt tae shift, so ah told ‘Long ‘John’ that he could have it. He took one bit and started tae take it doon the stairwell and ah suggested that we could lift the Two bits up and  manage the stairs fine, even though the combined weight was …. ‘Weighty’. That fell on the deafest Ears that ah’d ever encountered, up until that point, in ma life. So, ah thought, ‘fine’. When ah was gettin’ the other bit of plywid, ah heard what sounded like a Fuckin’ herd of Elephants in a China shop and it was ‘Long John’ draggin’ the wid doon the stairs so that the bottom corner was thuddin’off the stairs and shakin’ the foonds of the buildin’, wi’ nae thought or consideration for me or anyone else in the stairwell. Ah ran oot and asked if he could maybe make less noise takin’ the wid doon the Three flights of stairs, and that fell on the deafest Ears that ah’ve ever encountered in ma life, coupled wi’ a look that made me feel guilty for askin’ in the First place – and he just carried on doon the stair makin’ even mare Fuckin’ noise and carryin on like an even bigger C–t than he was bein’ before ah asked him to be a bit quieter. At this time, ‘The Daughter of Atticus’ stormed oot her door complainin’ aboot the noise and threatenin’ tae tell the Polis aboot ma plants. Thankfully they aw died, so the Polis are welcome tae search high and low for the C–ts.. Anyway, she’s standin’ like one of they NWA Gangsta C–ts, threatenin tae get the Polis for the noise ‘Long John’ was makin and ah’m thinkin ‘aw for Fucks sake’. Ah told her,that if she had a problem wi’ the noise, tae have a word wi ”Long John’, who, by this time was breengin’ doon the stairs like Usain Fuckin’ Bolt wi’ a wreckin’ Baw. Ah then proceded doon the stairs , liftin the wid up, makin sure no’ tae make a noise, and wee P Fuddy androgynous Cunt carried on wi’ her rant. Ah got the wid doon the stair and outside and ah was effed and ma Heart was racin’, so ah thanked ‘Long John’ for startin’ WW3. Nothin’, no’ a sorry or anything, Fuck all. So that pissed me off and ah just wanted an amitriptyline by then. Later, there was a knock at the door and it was ‘The ‘Daughter of Atticus’ danglin’ a Pound coin in front of me askin’ if she could buy a couple of fags. Ah couldny believe it. Earlier, the other ‘wee C–t fae next door’ was at the door askin’if ah had a toilet roll. Gave her the toilet roll, and it was an Andrex and no’ that sandpaper ah get delivered. Ah know beggars canny be choosers, but ye want a nice wipe. Ah always shudder when ah think of the Stem Cell treatment and how ah didny want tae dae a Shite because ma Sphincter felt like it had been stung by a Dozen Wasps, then had Salt and Vinegar poured over it, and that was before ah’d even done a Shite, let alone wiped ma erse. So, the thought of an uncomfortable wipe obviously brought oot the good Samaritan in me and ah  thought it was a neighbourly thing tae dae. Ah gave the Daughter of Atticus  a couple of Fags and told her tae keep her money. What a Tit. Ah’m tryin’ no’ tae be a Fanny aboot this and just want tae be a good guy – but there’s bein’ a good guy and bein’ a Tit. Up early the Morn, tae stop the wee C–ts fae stealin’ the grocery box.

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