Updates and Exotic Fruitcakes

What is our experience of neighbours? It could be like the smiley people on certain adverts, who studiously ignore each others annoying habits, big heads, nosiness and fat arses. Or it could be like the real world, where in most cases we would prefer their profound non-existance.

The two bone idle parasites at number 20 have spent the last six months inside the house. Food is delivered to the front door and money is paid into their bank accounts, and shite exits through the sewers. Otherwise, their modern 'life' consists of daytime sleeping and all night movie streaming. We cannot wait to see what they look like when they eventually emerge from the pit to soak up their 30 minutes a year of sunlight, on the front doorstep. We imagine two horrified pairs of eyes blinking at the alien world around them, each pair surrounded by gigantic translucent bags of flab. At the very sound of the word 'job', each bag will turn green and burst; the pricked boils killing all bird life for miles around.

It's especially interesting that they've very nearly replaced 'active' gaming with passive TV watching.

From children to old men.

Without the bit in between.

On the other side, Mr. DIY continues to exercise his tool chest on a daily basis. Like Stig of the Dump he clumps about his carpetless bombsite, incapable of changing, ruled by obsession, a trail of spent relationships behind him. Now he's back on benefits, he's having to do cold turkey without the monthly delivery of timber, cement, plaster, fireplaces, tiles, hardboard, and the many other products which were dropped on his lawn by lorry and crane. His mood has deteriorated from grinning mania to truculent irritability.

The government have said he should return to the workforce.

The local jobcentre have told him not to bother trying.

They can't get thirty-year olds to work, never mind those in their early sixties.

Back to top.

The man is now communicating by Morse code.

Tap, tap...tap, tap...tap, tap..

It probably means, "Help me, help me (I am terminally crackers).

I'll soon be joining him.

And society not far behind...