My new neighbour, "Bog"

[Rizla]

Hi everyone, I've not been posting much lately as you've no doubt noticed. This is because the flat mrs rizla and I bought back in february and which my stepdad and I have spent every day since then renovating is finally our home. Well, I've not actually finished work on the bathroom yet, due to materials not arriving in time and the fact that tiling and grouting is satan's work and is shit for cunts and grout and tiles can suck my fatty, but the kitchen's amazing. Honestly, I might start a thread about it. It's some sick bullshit, talking about your smart oven, double door fridge, induction hob, dishwasher, everything beeps. It's ace. (I have never owned property before so that's why i'm excited by appliances at 44. They're actually mine. It's mental.

The flat itself is on the ground floor, looking directly onto the street, no front garden (well, there's a bit of paving I think we might be responsible for) in a block of 8 that was built in 1959, I assume as social/council housing of some kind. We have our own decent sized garden accessed through patio doors in the kitchen (which used to be the living room, before we took out the fireplace, ripped up the wooden floor and installed underfloor heating pipes under a gypsum board floor topped with grey porcelain tiles, then put said futurekitchen in place, with its ceramic worktops and glossy beige cupboard doors, it's sort of got the aesthetic Taylor Parkes talks about as early 80's opulence, all light earth tones, I fucking love it). Being post-war concensus era  social housing, every flat has its own little plot of outdoor space, plus there's a communal drying area and a coal shed complex which is used for extra storage. I mean, we landed on our feet bigtime with this place, purchasing it at a low price (due to the fact it was in a terrible state) with the help of the scottish government's LiFT scheme (Low Income First Time Buyer, where they provide the deposit and take a low % share of the property, which can be bought back from them in future).

ANYWAY, this is why the lockdown hasn't really affected me, weirdly - it started just as me and my stepdad were getting into the renovating so we just got our heads down and got on with it. But it has been relentless, I haven't had a day off grafting, and the work really accelerated this month as we knew we had to get out of the flat we were renting (which is 5 mins walk away) by this week. Which brings me to Bog.

Bog

Picture a man, early 50's, 6ft4, gay, covered in tribal tattoos, those large hoop ear piercings, hair dyed blond, 2 very small dogs, accent northern english. Initially I thought he seemed alright, in fact I'd seen him it the pub over the road from the flat, when I'd done the odd gig there over the last few years.  Bog lives in the building next door, on the 2nd floor, and when it's sunny, he sits at his
window which overlooks our garden. He's witnessed my stepdad and I over the past few months, working away together sawing wood, mixing concrete, wiping our brows drinking tea eating tunnocks and chatting about class struggle and neoliberalism. At some point during this time, an unknown person dumped a load of stone chips, a large boulder, and a pile of manky clothes by the bins out the front, on the street. Disgusting, right? I thought so. Hate flytippers, I do.

About 3 weeks ago, I'm working away in the front bedroom, facing the street. Bog, oput walking his little dogs, sees me through my window, points at the pile of shite, and says "you gonna pick that up?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You gonna pick up that shite you dumped there?"

"Em, that wasn't me mate."

"Yeah it was. I seen yer. Get it picked up!" Quite aggressive.

"You didn't see fuck all mate. Don't fucking talk to me like that dickhead." I go outside. He scurries into his flat. I'm shouting after him "It wasn't me". I am outraged. Very very angry. Flying off the handle. Not good with these sort of situations. Don't like being accused of shit I didn't do. Shit that I find utterly unacceptable and would bring back hanging for.

So far so wank. I see Bog once or twice after that, in street or park, he studiously ignores me and I him. Then, as I'm putting stuff in the bin one day, he's at his door chatting with neighbours. They're clearly discussing the pile of shite (still there) and Bog is clearly signalling to them that it was me. I clock all this.

Forward to thursday last, we're moving in to the flat today so I've been there til the early hours prepping for the move and have bedded down in a sleeping bag in the curtainless, unfurnished front bedroom. I awake in baking heat and spy a head at my window. It's not Bog, but a woman who lives over the street, whose car is always parked outside my window. Once I get up, I see a bit of A4 taped on the window. And another on the other front window. One reads "FLY TIPPER - I LEAVE THE RUBBISH ON THE STREETS!" The other reads "THE OWNER OF THIS HOUSE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CRAP BY THE BINS - CLEAN IT UP!!!!" I take the notes inside and commence with the backbreaking labour of the day, moving all my earthly belongings plus my parter and two small children into a flat which has just had a target painted on it. Great day, that. Really happy.

Day later, I spy said woman going to her car. I open the window. "Did you tape notes to my window?" I'm holding my 3-month old daughter.

She's no option but to play her hand. She thought she hadn't been seen. "Yes I did, I wanted to shame the person who dumped the stuff."

"What makes you think it was me?"

"My friend and neighbour saw you do it"

"Yes, I spoke to him. He was mistaken. I appraised him of this fact at the time. And yet you feel the need to denounce me to the entire street as a flytipper? Are you trying to get my windows panned in or something?"

"Bog said he saw you do it. I'm sorry if it wasnt you, but he said he spoke to you and it didn't go well."

"Bog saw me, did he? What is he, a high court judge or a justice of the peace? Blessed with an idetic memory, is old Bog? Maybe, just maybe, it didn't go well because he wrongly accused me of an egregious offence and followed up by calling me a liar, and this Rizla don't take kindly to being mugged off by some tragic 90's Tribal Funktion reject cunt?" (some dialogue has been altered)

"I can see that you're really angry and upset about this and if I'm in the wrong then I apologise. This is a nice area and we want to keep it that way."

"Nice area? I'm not even moved in and I'm getting red crosses painted on my door by some nimby fuckwit who saw some rubbish in my back garden, some rubbish on the street, and drew his own conclusion. I'm quite sure you're sorry, but as our friend Daniel Tiger tells us,  sometimes saying sorry is only the first step. (some dialogue has been altered)

"I couldn't come to your door because covid19, so I though leaving a note was best"- I get note and show her. Her face falls to the floor. "You fucking well denounced me, love. This wasn't a note to me, it was to the street. What sort of a person would even think of doing that, when I've young kids in the house? There's nutjobs round here don't need any excuse to go vigilante, have a fucking word with yourself. And tell Bog to have a fucking word too."

Anyway, off she goes with a flea in her ear. Cut to today, I'm in the other front room (the old kitchen, which I'm making my office/studio) when who should wander past with his canine chums but our hero, Bog! Disdainfully, he "hawks up a loogie" and gobs a big greener on my (and my 7 neighbours) front step. I go out after him. "Bog! Bog! Did you just gob on my front step mate?"

He looks like he's going to be sick. "I spat on the ground".

":Don't be spitting on my doorstep, Bog. If you've something to say, say it."

"I've got nothing to say to you"

"Clearly, but you've seemingly plenty to say about me to our neighbours. Why don't you just apologise for falsely accusing me of flytipping? I'm giving you an out here, Bog."

"I've got nothing to say to you". He's pulling his stupid little dogs along on their leash. They just want to sniff the lampost.

"You're a sad little man Bog. You're a coward."

He tries a disdainful up and down look, but we both know that I'm the one with the beautiful futurekitchen, the hot irish scientist missus and the 2 gorgeous blonde blue-eyed children that worship the ground I walk upon, and he's the one with the mental health issues, the family in sheffield that disowned him and the nickname that denotes he likes to have twinks piss in his mouth.

And that's the story of how I met my pal Bog.

[bgmnts]

Twist:

The dogs did it.

[canadagoose]

Stupid territorial idiots. I can't be doing with neighbours like that. Just a pain in the arse all over.

[Chollis]

shit in his mouth

[Rizla]

I'm gonna have to get the PCSO's involved here just to nip this in the bud. They'll no doubt tell me to keep a diary, so this thread can serve as that. Stay tuned for more thrills lads, I reckon this isnt the end of the tale of BOG AND RIZLA

[canadagoose]

This is down by the Dreadnought, goose, I'm sure you know the 'hood. It was the "this is a nice area" chat that really fucked me off - I've lived in leith my entire adult life and am very proud and fond of the place and the people (for the most part) These small-minded cunts assume you're an interloper from pilton or somewhere and apply their pathetic snobbery accordingly. 

Fackin' hell lads, I wasn't thinking it was that close. I didn't think there'd be much room for snobbiness around Leith Fort (my doctor's surgery is kind of near you, btw), and I don't see much around here (more Shore / Gt Junction St area), but that's interesting. Dog shit is a constant problem, still, though. Not fair to blame it on you, mind.

[Elderly Sumo Prophecy]

shit in his mouth

Piss in letterbox

[Rizla]

Fackin' hell lads, I wasn't thinking it was that close. I didn't think there'd be much room for snobbiness around Leith Fort (my doctor's surgery is kind of near you, btw), and I don't see much around here (more Shore / Gt Junction St area), but that's interesting. Dog shit is a constant problem, still, though. Not fair to blame it on you, mind.

Have you seen this wicked 1987 documentary goose?https://youtu.be/Zp3UAwotyXs?t=1

[Twonty Gostelow]

Can't believe you said appraise instead of apprise. Send them a note apologising for that, then you can deploy the flamethrower with a clear conscience.

[canadagoose]

Have you seen this wicked 1987 documentary goose?https://youtu.be/Zp3UAwotyXs?t=1

I have not, but I'll have to give it a watch sometime, thanks.

[Dewt]

Wyze camera, 30 quid, catch them doing something annoying and then show them the evidence. He'll fucking cower he will, old Bog.

One of my biggest fears is one day getting my shit together to own property and then ending up with shitty neighbours.

[Sebastian Cobb]

You don't need save up for a deposit to have shitty neighbours silly.

[Hand Solo]

Theory #1: Stepdad did it.

Theory #2: Stepdad did it and is shagging Bog on the sly and blamed you.

Theory #3: Stepdad did it and is shagging Bog and the neighbour woman on the sly and blamed you.

Just don't like how little the stepdad has been fitting into the overarching narrative.

[Sebastian Cobb]

sounds like he's a bit busy fitting in to other things the dirty old bollocks

[C_Larence]

ok but did you leave the shit there?

[Captain Z]

Flytip his dogs off the top floor.

[Rizla]

ok but did you leave the shit there?

The exact nature of the original pile of shite - to wit, one boulder, one large pile (approx 1 barrowfull) of small red stone chips and a heap of old clothing; may have led an utter Bogbrained cunt with a view of my garden to assume it was me, given that I have the same stones in my said garden as does every cunt in western world. Said dickhead failed to take into account the fact that all the stones are still there and the rest of my garden is filled with wood detritus and assorted house debris and why the FUCK would I flytip outside my own front door? Projecting his own crayon munching onto rizla.

[Rizla]

Flytip his dogs off the top floor.

I normally hate little dogs but i feel sorry for Bog's dogs. They clearly hate him too. Cunt lives in a 2nd floor flat with no garden and he gets 2 dogs to compensate for his utter lack of personality. Fucking jerkoff.

[Hand Solo]

Perhaps he was mistaken when he observed you as the culprit and it was just some blue light bouncing off a strut. Are his middle and last names 'Brained' and 'Murphy'?

Theory #4: Bog did it.

M. Night Shyamalan to buy the story rights.

[Rizla]

Perhaps he was mistaken when he observed you as the culprit and it was just some blue light bouncing off a strut. Are his middle and last names 'Brained' and 'Murphy'?

Theory #4: Bog did it.

M. Night Shyamalan to buy the story rights.

Nah we get to the end of the film ad it turns out it was Piers Brosnonson after all! "VIS IZ AN AAAAHTRAGE!" I'll say, with my face.

[Hand Solo]

Then maybe you shouldn't be living (t)here.

[Cerys]

'Bog' is Russian for 'God'.  Tread warily, young Rizla.

[Elderly Sumo Prophecy]

6 foot 4 though. Reckon you could take him in a full on pagger? It may come to this.

[poo]

Would've told him to bog off!!

[imitationleather]

Bet you wish your new property had been part of a BOGOF offer so you could move in to the other one!!

[BlodwynPig]

Loved this story although it had a far too optimistic ending. Would like to have seen Bog's shredded carcass found the next day amongst the fly tipped clothes and aggregate and the lady neighbour being carted off in handcuffs by the coppers as you sip a cappuccino in your year 3000 kitchen snuggled with kids and partner....then a shadow passes the window out the corner of your eye.

[Voltan (Man of Steel)]

Beige cupboard doors, you say?

[BlodwynPig]

Rizla is the least beige person on here, the ruddy cheeked entertainer.

[Buelligan]

Beige cupboard doors, you say?

I'm afraid he lost me there too.  And the bit about ripping up the wooden floors and fireplace.  Bog's clearly an aesthete, you are breaking his soul, Rizla. 

[Replies From View]

the flat mrs rizla and I

This is a prime image.