Black Doggerel

Fucking pisshead neighbour Barry has lost his fucking keys. This should not have to be my fucking problem except that in the last three hours he has rung my doorbell to be let back into the building THREE FUCKING TIMES.

Also, he's apparently incapable of pushing the door open when I unlock it from the fucking entryphone, so I've had to go downstairs and let the old fucktard in myself three times. He claims Shiny Headed Michael (who sort of looks after him, because for some unfathomable reason he doesn't WANT Barry to be taken away and put in a home) has got his keys.

he does it again, I am about ready to beat the old fart to death with his own fucking pushcart.

In non-Spike-weird-health-related news, there is a pool of vomit on the floor in the hallway in front of drunk!Barry's flat. Shiny Headed Michael says that Barry's worst fear is being moved to an old people's home where he will have to stop chugging down his weight in cheap beer and cheaper cider every day lose his independence.

I'm all for independence in principle, but srsly, IMNSHO, your right to independent living stops where my right to a home free of your bodily fluids starts. Shinyhead had better have that cleaned up before I have to walk down the hallway again.

So it's (nearly) 4am, and I'm happily minding my own business watching Doctor Who online with a friend.

( Shit happens )

WHAT THE SHIT.