Neighbour war part deux
Reading week at the apartment (or "the cave" as Kate and I are now calling it) was a nightmare.
The dickheads across the way replaced "Eye of the Tiger" with "99 Red Balloons" as their drunken song of choice. They didn't even have the decency to go with the german version, the savages.
Cut their power again which shut them up, but because this is their third offence, I am going to make MY last week at the apartment hell for THEM. Instead of waiting for them to get loud, I have decided to cut their power while they are asleep every night to hopefully spoil some of their food (or at least give them warm beer) in the fridge and fuck up their alarm clocks. It's childish and cowardly, I know, but I don't care.
I've actually seen the guy who lives there. He's a short (even shorter than me - gasp!) troll looking bastard with a horrible black pat benatar mullet and a studded belt. The studded belt is probably so everyone thinks he is HARDCORE. In other news, those belts should win the award for "weakest, most played out fashion accessory in HISTORY".
Studded belt rant aside, he actually looks a lot like a Dudley Moore / Liza Manelli love child. I have to figure out a way to get a photo of him to prove it. Watch this space.
Went to Manchester over the weekend to see my brother-in-law's band "The Times" play and for Mel's 30th birthday. The band is great and the guys seem groovy. If I never see another pint of Staropramen, it will be too soon.