Monday, July 28, 2014


The nice lady from the council's just come and collected the recording equipment. It's been in my apartment for the last three weeks, as once again I find myself living next to a neighbour who doesn't give a fuck and thinks it's acceptable to hold parties on a Tuesday til gone three in the morning.

I called the cops (they said it was a personal matter and not their business) and called the council (who oddly don't operate at 3am). I wrote to all my neighbours including the wankers involved, reminding them that it was a little bit inconsiderate to blast music out and scream with the unremitting joy of being alive while all around them, people tried to sleep, but it had no effect.

It all came to a head a couple of months ago. They held two parties in a week, and I always seemed to be in bed desperate for an early night when they came back from the pub ready to rock. The last time they did this, it was my 40th birthday. I was literally entering a new and miserable decade of non-achievement and saw it in as I lay in bed listening to the dull throb of bass from downstairs. I snapped. The next day I went on a crusade, calling the police and bombarding the council with such ferocity that I made a nuisance of myself until the Noise Abatement Team installed a recorder in my bedroom ready for their next party.

And of course it never happened. The council's warning letters have worked and they've been silent. I've had a few moments of phantom bass in my head where I've been sat up listening to nothing but the whistle of my tinnitus at 2am, and the whole thing's been a waste of time. When the lady came and collected the recorder just now, she spoke her name, and the date and time into it to sign the recording off, and I giggled nervously... because I snore like I'm being waterboarded and choke on my own breath. A couple of weeks ago I had a dream that some malevolent bogeyman was creeping into my room and I literally woke myself up screaming "GET OUT!". I've been told besides the snoring I mumble incoherently in a dead language and the demons in my mind begin to chatter.

But worst of all, I've watched a ton of porn on my phone as I've wanked away the pain. I completely forgot about that mic pointed right at my head.

Which is going to be a little awkward when anyone listens back to it.