Bloody Hair! And My Ex Neighbours!

Right for a start I paid fifty quid to have my hair permed today. It came out the rollers very tight and big. I loved it, finally after years of heavy, thick unbelieveably straight hair it is curely. Well guess what? As the evening is going on my hair is getting patches of straight hair! I am so pissed off you wouldn't believe it. My shitty hair is obviously trying to resist the perm! I read it could happen but my hair dresser reasured me it wouldn't happen. Why is it that I got a feeling this barstard hair of mine would do this? It's bloody typical, well I will say this now, it's not going to be straight, if it doesn't stay permed or gets really patchy it's gonna be chopped off! Fuck it! When I want something, I dame well bloody have it! I want curely hair and that is what I am gonna have, I will chop and shave this shit on my head off and invest in a good wig. I don't give two monkey's what the bloody public think, they can laugh at me all they like. I will wear my current wig that I own until I can afford an expensive good one. I don't give two tuppeny buggers what any body thinks it my shit hair, they aren't looking in the mirror after drying their hair and finding they look like Dougal (from The Magic Roundabout) who has had an encounter with hair straighteners! I have never used straighteners on my hair, never have needed too. Bloody hair, I will give it a burn tomorrow with the tongs, my hair dresser told me not to do anything to it for at least two days but she didn't think it was gonna start dropping. I'll burn the hell out of it, it ain't staying straight! The fucking irony of all this nothing else about me is straight.

The Ex Neighbours

Anyway after that little rant! I wanna talk about this neighbour I had. His was just like Alf Garnet and his wife looked like Dot Cotton from Eastenders, she was an ex porzzy. They were a mean old couple and well lets just say they had anger issues that I tried to help them express ;). He use to drink and drive and the police were after him. Every Friday his wife had a cleaning job for a few hours in the morning. As I spent most of my teenage years at home, as I had a shit whole for a school and never went as there was no point, I would be at home on Fridays. Just before they were due back, I use to wash the communal hall way, I'd make it as wet and as soapy as possble. Then I'd eagerly wait behind the door for them to come in. We had this little spy hole in the front door so I could see them too. They always took the bait with comments like "Oh what a mess!" or "Bloody Swimming Pool" or "Whats been going on here then!" She would stand there staring at the floor in disgust, I was normally behind the door almost pissing myself with laughter. Then I decided to have some more fun with them, when they would go out I would stich the fither duster through the letter box and watch their reaction, she would normally say something like "Your as mad as the March heir" once she grabbed the duster and pulled it through the letter box, then she dropped it on the floor. He would put his finger to his head and give me the screw lose sign. They didn't seem to comprehend that when they were trying to be nasty they were actually being side splittingly funny. Ever since my parents and I had moved to that flat we had been getting annoying post. We knew the source of the post so I decided to give them the same in return except I went one step better. I was looking through a cheap TV listings one day and found a sent no money now ad. I filled out hundreds of those ads in silly names. Her silly made up name was Maude Daisy Beatrice Shipman and his was Paul Wesley Angus Shipman. They got lots of packages, it was so funny and I looked forward to the postman coming or a delivery van pulling up. Often the delivery person or the postman wouldn't bother knocking on the door so they would come out or come back from somewhere and find a nice parcel on the doorstep. It was side splittingly funny watching them pick the package up and finding it wasn't for them but had their address on it. Then the next day I'd watch them getting in the car taking it to the post office.

It was always fun to hang around on the communal hallway. You'd hear him swearing and shouting at the TV. He use to have the TV up full volume, so you can imagine the noise that came out of their flat. If I was luck I would get to hear them arguing. I think she was in her early 70's and he was in his late. He was so much like Alf Garnet it was pretty spokey! Anyhow, I stepped my game up again and invested some money into my project. I bought a mobile phone and gave them them some silent or extremely noisy phone calls. The silent ones were the best, he would pick the phone up and I would stay quiet and then he'd start swearing and calling me names. It was priceless, I enjoyed it so much, that I almost became addicted to it. They never took their phone off the hook or unplugged it, not even at night. It was like they enjoyed the wind ups. Also I use to call them names, I called her "monkey features" as she looked like a chimp and him "letter" box as I thought he looked like one. He had some names for me too, the main one being "the bloody nutcase." Whenever something went wrong, I would encourage my parents to put it on the communal hallway until they could get to the dump. Once my my mums drier broke down and I helped her put it out on the hallway. Of course as usual they took the bait, she stood and stared at it and waited for him to come over from the garage. Then they stood and swore and moaned about it.

One summer, a local school had had a clear out of old furniture. My mum and I were walking past and we thought it would be a good idea to suprize them with a couple of chairs. I mean, it was a very generous idea in my opinion ;). So we took a chair each and hid them under a bush until it got dark, then we sneaked out and put them in their garden. One each side of their rose bush. I got exactly what I wanted, a reaction! They came out and were looking at the chairs in their garden through the window on the landing, he said "bloody things!" Then he went down to the garden to take a closer look at them. One of our other neighbours was walking past and he asked them if they had seen anyone. They said "no" and "it was probably just kids." The chairs remained in their garden for almost a week. Then he loaded them in the car and drove to the dump.

I don't know if a mentioned earlier that he was a drink driver and had been done for it before, so he was very close to losing his licents. The police hated him almost as much as the people on our estate did. Anyway, one day he was driving down after picking her up from the hair dressers. The police were following him and he pulled up outside, they stopped him right infront of all the neighbours and did a breath test. He was well over the limit as he drunk Scotch from 4am in the morning until 11pm at night. Of course I had to help him express his anger, once again. I stood at the window and pulled the net certain back and gave him the biggest grin I could master. His was about to explode, he started ranting to the police about me. By the time he got them to look up at the window, I, of course, was gone.

Well in the end I did get into trouble for all the wind ups. When I was 17, the police arrested me for putting up posters to annoyed the old couple. One I put up just after he got arrested for drink driving. I drew a picture of a tandam and put a for sale on the sign along with the police station number. I put a picture of Dot Cotton on their front door and put her name and said Dot was her double. Some other neighbours did join in the wind up, this 10 year old boy and his mother. The boy would order them pizzas and call them taxi's, then he'd text me so I could wait for the commotion. His mother drew a picture by hand of the old woman dress in stockings and holding a wip, and wrote Madame Wiplash on the picture, we hung it on the lanp post out side. I was a good christian girl in those days and went to church every Sunday evening. One Sunday I decided to put up a ad on the church message board for a large fridge, free. Guess whoes phone number went on the ad? Yes the old codgers number. Anyway they took everything to the police and I got a caution, I couldn't contain myself in the police station, I kept laughing and enjoyed being there. My mum had to come with me and the police man as I was still a minor, as soon as I got out the police car I was grinning from ear to ear, I said to my mum "this is just like being in The Bill" (The Bill is a UK police drama), it liturally was almost the same, especially out the back, there was detectives out having a smoke and everything. In the interview room I was laughing too. When it came to me having my finger prints taken I played a track on the police woman. I had face powder on, so I touched my face with my fingers so when the police woman put my hand on the machine the finger prints weren't recognised. I did this and it took her ages to take my finger prints. She didn't work it out. I got these two pieces of paper which said I had been cautioned, was told of by a senior officer and driven back home in the police car. It was a fun day out believe it all not. The caution was worth all the laughs I had got out of the wind ups over the years. God, it's scary to think 7 years ago I was a naughty healthy 17 year old, a far cry from who I am today. In fact now I tell people how old I am and they are shocked, as I have physically aged due to illness and medication, I look in my early 30's and know one who sees me denies it. I am far more mature then what I was when I was 17, but one thing I will make clear, that old couple deserved everything they got, they made many peoples life a misery. Anyway I don't live there anymore I live alone now in a quiet private flat.