House Parties and Stompy

Last night I kind of live tweeted my tired thoughts with a little story about Stompy the neighbour I hope who is now living in a house in the middle of nowhere on his own.

It is that time of year where you need to figure out if that house party is the first one for a neighbour or if it’s that cunt who runs a club from his house.

Great news is, its the Italian neighbours I actually like and they don’t do this on the regular. More importantly they don’t throw their rubbish in my terrasse, which is generally the deciding point on how much of a prick I’ll be about it.

If you weren’t around for it, my former upstairs neighbour used to throw wild parties until 8h every other weekend. Which in itself is crossing a line, but he also used to walk like he had concrete feet. 24/7.

He actually managed to cause damage in my flat from it. This is what happens when you stomp on the floor all the time, eventually a poorly constructed wall falls apart downstairs :

A real piece of shit who vanished one day, can’t say I care why and his asshole friends used to ring my door bell and interphone all night because they were too stupid to find the light switch.

The absolute worst part. I can not stress this enough. His musical choice was awful, like tragic to have at that volume, shame to the family and their cow too awful.

Btw, the Italians are dropping the right vibe. Class A playlist. 10/10 would not mind if this went on until tomorrow morning.

The party was only just a pre-drinks, it’s finished, sadly. I might slip a note under their door for that playlist tho.