Attention noseyparkers, it’s National Neighbourhood Watch Week 2017.
I can tell you the woman over the road was earlier wearing some shorts which are a size too small for her, but my binoculars have since steamed up.
What’s occuring outside your net curtains?
Moose the Mooche says
Those are my binoculars, you bad sod!
mrxsg says
Right now one of our Neighbours is screaming at her kids.
She was doing it a lot this weekend. Bloody irritating when you’re trying to chill in the garden.
It’s a bit sad really.
fortuneight says
The bins will be out shortly. They aren’t emptied until Wednesday but we live among people that like to plan ahead.
One kind citizen parks his car on the corner every day to stop learner drivers from a practice run or the real thing of an actual test. He lives a couple of doors down but that’s community spirit for you, even if the rest of us take our life in our hands pulling out of the close now because we can’t see what’s coming.
Moose the Mooche says
Those two women came past far too quickly. I think they should slow down a little in this hot weather. Or maybe even stop altogether, about there.
minibreakfast says
Just birds singing and bees buzzing round here. They’re having to compete with an odd selection of music today, though, that’s drifting out of our patio door.
Rigid Digit says
A robin just landed on my garage roof.
It sat there for a bit, and then flew away again.
Moose the Mooche says
… I don’t think she saw me.
I think I hurt myself there. Serves me right I spose.
fentonsteve says
The miserable old git over the road, with the buy-and-sell collection of
old bangersvintage classics which are parked for maximum neighbourly inconvenience, has a tenant with a “colourful” past renting a room in his house. When the rozzers come for a bust, I will be laughing my hods off.Moose the Mooche says
The bloke next door but one is basically a dealer. He has a very expensive car but doesn’t appear to work and dresses like Dappy. His permatanned girlfriend wears white sunglasses.
At least they don’t leave their bins out.
Sewer Robot says
All my life I believed me and my Neighbours were real, but increasingly of late I think we might just characters in one of Bouncer’s dreams:
Moose the Mooche says
Why would he see himself in his own dream?
They bloody made that up.
Tiggerlion says
I see myself in my dreams all the time.
Moose the Mooche says
You dream of mirrors?
Mate, ease off on the Wensleydale!
Rigid Digit says
Most nights there are many dog walkers passing my front window – the bloke walking his cat has long since gone.
There have been two recently which are more noticeable / out of the ordinary:
1) Big bloke, bald head, no neck, vest top walking a pug with a pink collar
2) Old woman on mobility scooter “walking” (or being dragged along by) a Bull Terrier.
Maybe they are participants in a new E4 show called Dog Swap – a brand new format for the channel where they take two opposite worlds and mix it all up a bit in the name of grabbing a bit of audience share from Eastenders and Coronation Street
mikethep says
According to the local Facebook group in our suburb a young woman has taken to patrolling the streets and shouting at dogs to make them bark and then filming them. Someone with a bee in her bonnet about barking dogs, was the suggestion. That also describes me, mind you, but I wouldn’t go that far.
Twang says
I went out for a spin on my mountain bike at the weekend and a lovely bridle way near me has had about 5 fly tips visited upon it. It’s a right mess with freezers, tiles, paint cans etc. Bastards. I poked about in one of them and found an envelope with an address on it so I have grassed them up to the council. I hope they catch them and throw the bloody book at them.
Vulpes Vulpes says
Good for you; we get the same ignorant behaviour here. Won’t hold out too much hope of a response from the council though – try the rozzers as well. A short walk up the lane from Foxy Mansion is the border between South Gloucestershire and Wiltshire. Yep, that’s exactly where the knob-heads dump their crap. And you can guess the response from either local authority as a result. They are knob-heads too.
SteveT says
Fly tipping fucks me off and the councils round here are to blame – they have started charging for using the tip if you have a commercial vehicle. My guess is that it costs them more to clean up a fly tip than they get in revenue from visiting vehicles. Common sense gone out the window.
On to the subject in hand – we only have 4 neighbours. 3 of them are very nice. The 4th is okay on the surface but is prone to hysterical rants at her husband or her daughter who basically wouldn’t say boo to a goose. My guess is the daughter is too scared to speak because of the loony she has for a mum. Today was a rant day.
Mike_H says
It’s quite right that companies who bring load after load of waste they are being paid to dispose of should have to pay. It costs quite a lot of money for the councils to deal with it. A lot of it has to be dealt with by specialists.
With the building firm I worked for from 2011 to 2013 we would be at the nearest waste site 3 times a week on average. The firm I worked for after that kept a set of waste skips at our yard, which were collected by a licensed waste contractor.
Unfortunately it’s impossible to tell whether someone who arrives in a commercial vehicle is a professional or just someone who’s hired a van to clear some waste of their own. So they charge for all commercials. If it was free for anybody, plenty of professionals would be taking the piss and pretending to not be professionals.
As to the OP. All quiet as mice around here and nothing to be seen outside.
It is just after 1am on a weeknight, after all.
JQW says
The Pizza, Kebab and Burger take-away next door caught fire earlier today.
Rumours have it that it’s the first time ever their burgers have been well done.
bungliemutt says
My neighbour – ex RAF officer, retired – owns 4 cars and a long drive, but prefers to park all his cars in the road, in spaces which in his imagination are set aside specifically for him. As soon as someone parks in one of ‘his spaces’ he twitches his curtains and goes out to remonstrate with them, pointing out the error of their ways, and who won the bloody war anyway, etc etc etc.
He is affectionately known in the neighbourhood as ‘a complete tosser’.
chiz says
Our neighbour started mowing his lawn at 8.00am yesterday. Eight O’clock Sunday morning! What kind of absolute shitehound does that? He should have known we’d still be asleep – after all we’d been dancing and singing in the garden till 4.00am.
Rigid Digit says
Tsk – no consideration some people
I bet he’s just bitter because he didn’t get an invite
Twang says
One side my neighbours are very nice and we chat on the drive and have a drink at Christmas. On the other they are inconsiderate wankers and several times a summer have a very loud garden party, with an evening of cretinous 80s “classics” before singing along with ABBA and the Village People until 4am. I wouldn’t mind but they don’t even have the decency to pop round before hand and say, “by the way, you probably won’t get any sleep tonight”.
Vulpes Vulpes says
Print out some flyers announcing your own loud, late, drunken garden party “this coming Sunday”. Pop one through their letter box on a Monday evening. If they remonstrate, act all considerate and tell them you’ve cancelled. Wait a couple of weeks and repeat. If they don’t react, pretend nothing has happened, leave ’em puzzled.
mikethep says
Round here 8 am Sunday (or any other day) is considered an ok time to start tormenting your neighbours with petrol-driven garden machinery. It’s the Australian way.
dai says
I live in a kind of townhouse complex, I am in a four storey terraced house and have the bottom two floors (a duplex, called a maisonette in UK?). There are a few people renting and thankfully, one particularly noisy neighbour moved out a few months ago. The guy above me occasionally gives his subwoofer a work out and has an unusual “hobby” of going around the neighbourhood evening before garbage day and “rescuing” thrown out furniture, electronics etc which I believe he then sells on (or trys to). The retired guy next door is nice enough but is prone to going out on occasion leaving his dog in an empty house which then tends to bark for hours on end. I haven’t complained yet, and may not do as all settles down by bedtime and gives me licence to blast music on occasion.
fishface says
my “over the back” neighbour was inflating a paddling pool at 7.15 this morning using a compressor.
surprisingly loud…….not the comp…..my shouted…..CUNT.
s’all good though, the pool party planned for this evening is cancelled due to no one showing up….I know this as the hag and her tosser husband are sitting outdoors now calling all their socalled friends blind.
after tea it was the wifes turn to hoover out the car….much hilarity ensued as I repeatedly switched off the power from indoors.
at the last switchoff, she threatened to use the vac to “suck my cock off”……….sexy bitch.
pawsforthought says
Neighbour on one side has a dog that barks constantly when they go out. They like to shout at the kids, often quite early in the morning. I’m considering a bit of soundproofing in our bedroom. To be fair the kids are pretty annoying.
Rob C says
I was taking tea upon the ramparts the other evening and noticed that the neighbouring Hillfort, just across the vale, were having a Baptism Shower. Some bald straight was dunking them. In dismay and disgust, I climbed to the highest vantage point, blew my conch with gusto and waved by woaded nut sack and eros banger at them in disgust. Then I went back inside and had a pot noodle.
JustB says
“Hair are your aerials. They pick up signals from the cosmos and transmit them directly into your brain. This is the reason that bald-headed men are uptight.”
Rob C says
Exactly!
(apart from my cool bald headed Head chums. They get cosmic feedback straight into their nadis via an invisible small etheric radio mast on the tops of their hairless bonces that only initiates can see).
Moose the Mooche says
Baldies are not the problem. It’s Johnny Combover you have to watch out for.
Let the mighty gusts of truth blow their spit-flattened twinings perpendicular, benuding their grim domes.
JustB says
I’ve never understood Messrs Combover and Combover. What’s the deal with that? I swear to god if I start to recede, I’m having the lot off. It has literally never fooled anyone, or looked anything but utterly daft.
Entering, as I am, my midlife crisis with aplomb, I’m at the beginning of a Beard Journey™. I have forsworn all trimmers and razors until at least September (meaning that if it looks fucking ridiculous the only people who will mock me over the summer will be my own children, which happens anyway). Should my beard prove a success, I’ve got the perfect baldness scenario covered: bullet-headed and vast of facial hair. 6’0″ bald brick shithouses with massive beards always look great, and if we don’t, people are unlikely to tell us. 😉
Moose the Mooche says
It’s occurred to me that the lesser-spotted combover may yet have it’s day again. In an age when young women have been persuaded to have grey hair and Groucho Marx pseudobrows, anything is possible.
We need to plan for this.
Gatz says
It’s going to be a ‘what were we thinking in the 20-teens?’ standby, isn’t it? The years when beards suddenly became fashionable for young men and young women adopted the duck-put and Scouse brow combo.
GCU Grey Area says
Combovers might make a return if hipsters deem them cool and/or ironic, unleashing their inner Robert Robinson.
davebigpicture says
One word: Trump
JustB says
I bloody didn’t.
JustB says
Well, not sure about that really – beards have been “in” over the centuries for much longer than they’ve been “out”. The 20th century was a bit of an anomaly re. facial hair, really.
(Well. That and the 11th. Bloody Normans.)
Moose the Mooche says
And darling, have you seen the brows on the Bayeux Tapestry? What’s French for Revlon?
JustB says
Maybe he’s born with it. Maybe it’s St Augustine.
Gatz says
Be very careful come September if the beard doesn’t work out. Should the hot weather hold up there is a distinct danger of shaving to reveal a lily-white chin beneath a tanned face, and then your own kids won’t be the only ones mocking you.
Moose the Mooche says
Funny, the same thing happened with my pubic area.
For that image, you’re welcome.
JustB says
No chance. I don’t tan. I’m half Welsh.
Jeff says
Depends which half though, Shirley?
fentonsteve says
I’m regretting buying all those shares in Cossack hairspray for men.
Rob C says
I haven’t seen a combover since the 70s man.
Rob C says
Who you’ve REALLY gotta watch out for is the dudes with hair who CHOOSE to go bald by shaving their crusts. Burglar Chic. Recidivist, because I’m worth it. Dodgy. Come near my yurt and I’ll set the hounds on them.
Moose the Mooche says
You started talking about burglars on a Neighbourhood Watch thread. That’s just weird.
Rob C says
Below the knee length shorts jockeys shimmying up the nation’s drainpipes.
Rob C says
I’ve got a golf club, but I don’t play golf, dig?
GCU Grey Area says
You might want to buy a few balls, tees and some dodgy knitwear, too. Just in case. Otherwise, the Polis might not think your golf-stick was kept entirely for golfing.
JustB says
I find that the shaven-headed nutjob-looking types tend to be nice. The male “type” who wins the Arsehole Medal every time is the super-groomed Top Bantz Sports Casual Lad.
He’s 22 and has spent a grand on his distressed jeans and fitted t-shirt. He can do this because he lives at home and works as an estate agent or windscreen salesman. Another £500 on his pristine trainers. His Renault Clio has privacy glass, a glasspack silencer, a sexually explicit bumper sticker and is lower than a gnome’s arse. He trains like crazy, and is “well sculpted”, but can’t lift anything heavy that isn’t attached to the ends of a metal bar and resting on a bench. He’s spent 3 hours on his hair, and it is like fibreglass to the touch. He’s just shared something sexist on Facebook from Unilad and the only comment he’s put on it is three “crying laughing” emojis. He’s off to Yates’s and he’s going to get “mullered”, whereupon he’s going to take violent exception to someone, possibly a girl, and end up covered in blood.
Meantime, yer Burglar Chic nutjob type is at home being swarmed over by his adoring toddlers.
Rob C says
see: mentoring tomorrow’s hooligans…..
😉
Rob C says
Re. sports casuals – if you smell Lynx from twenty feet, it’s a head shot.
Rob C says
White blokes in dreads with dogs on bits of rope are bastards. They’ll steal your stash as quick as a tin whistle screech.
JustB says
NEVER TRUST A CRUSTY.
Words to live by. You hear the Levellers and see a camper van, you lock your doors and windows. 😉
Moose the Mooche says
And never crust a trustee. They don’t like it. I’ve found.
JustB says
You’re so right. Lynx is the infallible olfactory harbinger of the tool.
Rob C says
Crusties. Not hippies, just smelly thieving lazy bolloxes.
4 star without en suite is camping enough for me!
Rob C says
Indeed. The aroma that screams ‘a waste of sinews’.
Rob C says
GCU dude, I’d just tell them that the golf club is a bespoke ley line earth energy adaptor cum codpiece extension, and besides, it’s perfectly normal to play crazy golf under one’s bed. Crazy carpentry too, hence the claw hammer.
retropath2 says
I too own a golf club, the Royal & Ancient at St Andrews.
(I don’t really)
Rob C says
Sounds marvellous.
All I want is a Flintlock. One ball. Straight shot. Does the job. I know how to use these from a past life.
davebigpicture says
As requested, Flintlock. Which one of them only has one ball? Hare H Corbett.
Mike_H says
It’s hot and sunny again today and I therefore am obliged to have all my windows slightly open so that some air can circulate. I do not have aircon or an electric fan.
A very noisy petrol-driven saw is being used to trim the shrubbery around my block, just outside my bedroom and bathroom windows. Exhaust fumes are getting into my flat too. It’s too hot to close up the windows.
They are spoiling my enjoyment of my newest musical acquisition, Larry Carlton’s excellent 1987 album “Last Nite”.
mikethep says
Why not move the speakers to the windowsill, turn the volume right up and see what happens?
Mike_H says
The perpetrator was using ear defenders (health & safety, innit). Nobody else was about.
Harry Tufnell says
The field across from us is full of poppies, there are loads of hares running around in it, if my dogs get the chance they chase them, they’ve never caught one and I doubt they’d know what to do with it if they did. The skylarks have temporarily stopped singing, probably too busy feeding their young, the blue tits in my next box fledged about 4 weeks ago, the barn swallows are feeding their young. Best crop of strawberries I can ever remember, we are freezing them and we’ve given shedloads away.
Harry Tufnell says
Them there poppies…
http://i1240.photobucket.com/albums/gg482/Spoodledude/18951319_1948579682045840_2900262080027276585_n.jpg
minibreakfast says
Beautiful.
Jeff says
Gorgeous.
You’re a lucky man, Mr Tufnell.
minibreakfast says
It’s all quiet again here today, except for the distant bark of a dog adding to the chirping and buzzing I mentioned yesterday. It’s cooler now, with a lovely breeze coming in from the coast, but doors and windows remain open as I sit here digitising some records. Just now I’m copying a Singing Postman album, recorded just 13 miles from here in 1966. When I’m done with it, it’ll go off with another postman, to a pal in Ireland who’s visiting his place of birth before going back home to the US.
Gatz says
I live on the top floor of a three storey block of flats, with lawns to the front and a triangular grassed area with several trees to the left, all sections of grass lined by footpaths as I am at the end of a cul de sac. There are parking spaces, but no passing traffic so it ought to be a peaceful little island.
Until last year the grassed area at the side was fenced and contained a small play park; a slide, a couple of rocking animal shapes, and a sort of roundabout. The roundabout was in the form of a hoop about 3 metres across, and ran on castors to allow a distinct tilt. It also had markings, probably to encourage counting games in young children. What actually happened was that the local teens used the park as their meeting place. You could tell the cooler ones because they sat at the highest point of the roundabout and could stretch out their legs, while their lessers crouched on the opposite side. These meetings generally atrophied into raucous wrestling or football games, which almost always spilled over onto the lawn below my living room and kitchen windows, often well into the hours of darkness.
A year or so ago a letter from the local county councillor arrived reporting that plans were afoot to do away with this small play area and others, replacing them with a single, large facility a couple of hundred metres away, and inviting me to register my dismay at these proposals with the appropriate authorities. I didn’t respond, but had I done so an honest statement might have read, ‘For more than 15 years my summer evenings have been enlivened and cheered by the joyous peal of children’s laughter, and delighted cries of ‘F-off!’ ‘No, you f-off!!’ These additions to my hours of relaxation have been a boon and a blessing, but it would be selfish of me to deny others the joy.’
This has been the quietest summer round here that I can remember.
Phil Pirrip says
Meanwhile at 22:20 on a warm Sunday evening about a mile away in a slightly newer part of town, a moped/scooter thing was burning furiously, spreading its fiery tendrils to the pile of crap our darling neighbour, Mrs Gobshite and her offspring have stashed next to our garage. Yes reader, the next stop was the garage roof, which was just getting going when the good folks of the Essex Fire Service turned up and did their stuff. The scooter which may or may not have been linked to Gobshite Junior, his chums or suppliers was predictably a write-off. None of which can be proved of course, the constabulary aren’t interested, nobody was hurt and this is what insurance is for. I and the rest of the neighbourhood will be glad when the Family Gobshite piss off back under the rock they crawled out from. And calm …
Gatz says
I do hope that was the scooter which sometimes does laps of the lawn around my place.
Phil Pirrip says
You may be lucky, it’s going nowhere other than into a skip.
Incidentally, I’m assuming the DVLA may be interested if an engine or chassis number can be found?
Rob C says
I live in the countryside. Tonight all I need is a horse, neckerchief and flintlock.
GCU Grey Area says
What do you need a flintlock for? You’ve got your bespoke ley-line earth-energy-adaptor-cum-codpiece-extension golf-stick.
‘Hit me, hit me. . .’
Moose the Mooche says
Whither the mystic niblick?
Tiggerlion says
Next door’s dog is yapping again. Fifth night in a row. Is it ok to wring its scrawny neck?
mikethep says
Woke up, it was a chainsaw morning…tralala…
http://i1100.photobucket.com/albums/g401/mikethep/musicnotation_techniques-672x372_zpswpfdcjmu.jpg
Mike_H says
Many years ago, some friends lived in one of the 12 council houses in the West Wales village of Pontarfynach (Devil’s Bridge, to Saesneg visitors).
Every Sunday morning at around 7am one of their neighbours, old Jack Roderick, who worked for the Forestry Commission, would start up his chainsaw and begin cutting up his week’s supply of firewood. Most of the other neighbours were either related to or old friends of Jack’s. My friends were English newcomers, so any complaints were met with mildly sympathetic indifference. Jack could not see any problem in his habitual chainsawing.