Mosher'sUnimaginativelyEntitledBlog

For those I’ve not spoken to (and I can’t recall if this is in the blog), I went to work on Friday having had 2 hours of sleep. The music was on till 4am. And was replaced by a dog barking like mad for almost an hour as it was locked in his front room.

I picked up a colleague at 7:40, and started to tell him what had happened. At which point I just flipped. I punched the steering wheel repeatedly, swerved at the kerb and hammered the anchors on before stalling the car and then just broke down. Fizz had to drive me into work where my boss immediately told me I looked like crap. Once I explained why, he told me to hand all my work off and go home.

I refused.

The last place I wanted to be was in my own home. I worked an entire day on 2 hours’ sleep. I dreaded 4:30 and hometime, but went as I was expecting the police to arrive after 5. They didn’t *sigh*. Will be here on Sunday before midday.

The guy who owns the house called me this evening. I think I’ve convinced him that I’ll settle for no less than eviction. I don’t care it it’s 4 times a week or twice a month. Fact is, I shouldn’t have to put up with noise, threats and chavs pissing on my back door. He’s had warning after warning and now he seems to think he can just get away with it as nothing’s been done as a result.

We’ll see what comes when he talks to the useless workshy ******* **** of a letting agent on Monday.

In the meantime, thank you to all of you. SFG for your copious documentation, Damo for offering to have him ****** over, Dawn for just being great and everyone else. A couple have said they wish they could do more – no need. Just your replies (and calls) have really helped.

Again, thank you. And of course I’ll keep you all updated.

It’s 2am. I’m still not asleep despite going to bed at 11pm. I’m too tired to type, so here’s a copy from the email I just sent to environmental health:

At 10:40pm, I went back round as I intended to go to bed at 11:00. He agreed to turn the bass down. Which he did. For 10 minutes.

By 00:10, my walls were shaking. I went round. He was initially indignant, but calmed down. His visitors, however, threatened to burn my house down and “catch me by surprise sometime” and have me “screaming sorry” while I was tied to a tree. His excuse? “Ignore him – we’ve been doing some pills and were just having a moment.” The person who threatened me is the same one who urinated on my back door a few weeks ago.

Half an hour later and the noise was again at a stupid level. I called his father to inform him that I was going to contact yourselves and the police. The police gave me reference number 91 and have said they will come round about 5pm tomorrow… that is, today.

Previous incidences have been minor in recent weeks, though on 2 of the last 3 Wednesday mornings, I was awoken around 2am by loud shouting. A Friday earlier, I couldn’t get to sleep until 1:30am as there was loud arguing. I only nodded off after they all stormed out of the house.

His defense is that *I* woke him up 2 Sundays ago doing DIY. At midday.

I am absolutely at my wit’s end and am *begging* for any help in getting rid of this nuisance. His letting agent doesn’t care two hoots and won’t even speak to me any more and I appreciate that the police have much more serious things to be spending their time dealing with, especially after recent events.

I have absolutely no idea where I can go from here and am seriously considering selling my house and moving out. One neighbour has even offered to let me stay at her house on occasional nights, but it all just seems like it’s up to me to adjust my life to suit him. Surely this can’t be right?

All I want is to be able to come home, sit and read or watch TV and go to sleep without constantly dreading the *thud thud thud* of his stereo starting up and knowing I’m going to have to go through it all again. In addition, I now have threats from a drugged-up lunatic to deal with.

It is now 1:50am and his stereo is *still* thudding through my wall. The volume is tolerable, but it’s constant bass thumping and there is no way I’m going to be able to sleep until it stops. The thing is, every time it does I just sit there waiting for it to start again.

ANYONE. PLEASE. WHAT THE **** CAN I DO?!?!?! Legally, please. And quickly. I’m not kidding when I say I’m at my wit’s end. I was almost in tears of frustration earlier. I don’t want to come home from work because it’ll all just start over again. Why is it so hard to just make someone have some appreciation for others?

In addition to the **** next door and his chain-smoking, beer-swilling, beaten-up-regularly 8-month-pregnant girlfriend…

I saw the most stereotypical chav family in Morrisons on Saturday. Horrible they were. Evil, even. Admittedly quite old for chavs, mind. Sort of mature chavs, if that isn’t a contradiction in terms.

Mum was a complete minger. Only a blind man with no sensation in his fingers, a complete lack of sense of smell and a guide dog with a really cruel sense of humour would have gone there. Lumpy, craggy, wrinkled, smelly… urgh.

Dad had a really bad buzz cut, perhaps done by the same blind guide dog. The kind of bloke who looks like he picks fights with people three times his size because he’s under the mistaken impression that he actually is as hard as he looks. Only the fact that he was missing a large portion of his left hear (and I could see the toothmarks where it was detached) tells me he’s not as hard as the people he winds up.

The kid, though. Another class. About 10-ish, clad in a dark blue "Burberry" hoody – of course with the hood right up. With his big googly eyes, he looked like ET on the front of Elliot’s bike.

There were some cub scouts helping with packing at the tills in exchange for your hard-earned spare brass and Little Chav spotted the collection bucket remarkably quickly for one so early in his criminal life. Fingers straight in. Until Mum smacked him in the face.

She obviously guessed he’d spend the money on crack instead of more ***** from Elizabeth Duke for her to hang off her fingers.

Most of you in the UK will likely have noticed that it’s finally starting to act like winter, and we’re getting very cold, frosty mornings around now. Sod’s Law, of course, for my neighbour who just bought one of those “car condom” things to save the tedious de-icing every morning. The first day after she got it and the temperatures have risen just enough so that she didn’t need it today.

Going back a few years, I used to work with a guy called Mark who grew up in Australia. He was still a really nice guy despite that, actually. He made the bizarre choice to emigrate over here and his family followed some years later, amongst them his younger sister.

Her first winter came as a shock. Due to where they’d lived, she’d never seen snow or frost before, outside of the TV. This bizarre thin film of ice all over her car windows and in the locks. Mark recalled that the following few seconds were like watching slow motion.

He was stood by the car waiting for her to come out with some de-icer or something… and she came out with a kettle full of water. Hot water. Boiling to be precise. Before he could stop her, she flung the contents over the windscreen as he screamed “NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO” and lunged forward.

Water his windscreen. Windscreen went “what the ****?!” and made a weird crunching noise. Then caved completely into the interior of the car as the glass shattered.

In fairness, they had very clear visibility from the driver’s seat.