Diary of an unhappy neighbour
Written by: Gorvid
Winter is a wonderful month. Despite the ever darkening evenings and the icy chill in the air, I find the crisp sting of the wind combined with the warm glow of cottage windows and the wisps of wood burner smoke to be most gratifying. This is somewhat soured by the fact that I get to see an eighteen stone female dress as a giant Mister Man and wobble down the hill wearing Wellington boots that act as a bottleneck for the rolls of calf that appear to grow out of her legs.
Sometimes they go in tandem. She totters along herding the dog-shaped rats-on-string whilst her husband, who looks quite a lot like a pork pie wearing glasses and a wig, strides ahead in a pseudo purposeful fashion.
If I time it right…I can cross their paths as we head out, I, the Gorvid hounds and Mrs Gorvid….which is a worthwhile exercise. As the sight of the two bears-with-dogs-faces and us making our way into the night reduces their little lap dog cluster into a swirling ball of angry terrier. I like that.
Plus both our resident freak show neighbours are frightened of Mrs Gorvid. Who has, under oath, promised to goad the heffalump into an angry slap one day, just so I can watch her using all her martial arts training in one swift fat-shit-ass-kicking.
I think I might ask for that as my Christmas present. I love this time of year.
More unhappy neighbour diaries here
