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My new neighbour, "Bog"

Started by Rizla, June 30, 2020, 12:58:26 AM

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Goldentony

in three days knock at his door as a vision of jesus

Cuntbeaks

Quote from: Kelvin on June 30, 2020, 03:46:39 PM
At what point in this whole endeavour did he tell you he was gay?

"Could you move your boulder, please? I'm gay."

Well, boulders are well known as the fairly camp stone type, not as gay as those red chips though. So yeah, its a failry obvious aggregate based signalling ploy he's using there.

Shit Good Nose

Quote from: Rizla on June 30, 2020, 03:51:34 PM
Bloke in early 50s, lives alone and has 2 small yappy dogs, I'm assuming he's gay as a boat.

Bit presumptuous - maybe the dogs are a totem of his dear departed wife (Gob).

chveik


Kelvin

Quote from: Rizla on June 30, 2020, 03:51:34 PM
Bloke in early 50s, lives alone and has 2 small yappy dogs, I'm assuming he's gay as a boat.


Claude the Racecar Driving Rockstar Super Sleuth

Bog doesn't sound so bad compared to my neighbours.

For starters, they're forever yelling at their kids. To be honest, I'm not much better at dealing with children, so I can't judge them too harshly for that (but it's still fucking annoying). Where they really earned my ire is with the demands/accusations directed our way.

The first instance was a few years ago: I'd just built the first iteration of my marvellous food smoker, a key component of which was one of those chimney flue liners (basically a big tinfoil tube). Coincidentally, the neighbours also had a flue liner - It normally lay coiled on their shed roof (for some reason) but had gone missing shortly before I built the smokerator. I did notice its disappearance, but paid it little heed. A couple of days later, I answer a knock on the door - it's the woman one, asking which one of us stole their flue liner. I tell her the truth; that I'd bought it months ago and both housemates could corroborate this. Unfortunately, I can't produce a receipt (I probably chucked it, never thinking I'd be in a situation of having to prove I didn't steal £7.99 worth of tinfoil) but I mention the exact price in a vain attempt to convince her. Perhaps I should have shown her the pristine state ours was in, or simply pushed her into the road, but alas I didn't. Stalemated, she eventually fucked off, leaving me indignant.

The next bone of contention concerns rats. She knocks on our door again and says that she's seen one scurrying about in her garden - her garden, mind you. She says there's a tunnel under the fence leading to our garden and has clearly decided that we are responsible for their presence, rather than them simply being wild animals that live everywhere. Basically, she's trying to extort money out of us to pay for an exterminator. I've spent a lot of time in the garden during the lockdown and haven't seen any evidence of vermin - which is remarkable, considering how much fruit and veg we have growing. This time, I was able to shut her up by telling her we already have rat traps set up - we got them a while back, when rats invaded our garden to escape from the construction of the neighbours new shed.

Pair of twats.

darby o chill

Quote from: Rizla on June 30, 2020, 02:24:28 AM
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
What are you using the move detritus around the back garden - is it a wheelbarrow?
This has all the hallmarks of an inside job. Hats off to Bog.

holdover

I really enjoyed that story. Then was startled to find out it happened near me. My flat's on Hawthornvale. I'm going to keep a look out for this Bog character.

Emma Raducanu

My neighbour stole our recycle bin to use as storage for debris while he did DIY.

Pingers

Any intel as regards his time in Sheffield would be good. Can't be many people 6' 4" called Bog, might be able to dredge summat up about him. That's the kind of spiteful mission I relish, if I'm honest.

Utter Shit

Quote from: Rizla on June 30, 2020, 12:58:26 AM
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.

ESH

Blinder Data

Quote from: DolphinFace on June 30, 2020, 04:40:22 PM
My neighbour stole our recycle bin to use as storage for debris while he did DIY.

I believe there is more in common than divides us and it is inevitable that we will live in a more communitarian and co-operative society. Unfortunately this belief crashes into reality if you take one glance at a communal bin shed.

Our building recently received from the council a big food waste bin for all the flats. One or more of my neighbours disposes of food in there with the plastic wrapping left on.

The gulag will be too good for them.

Sebastian Cobb

Quote from: Blinder Data on June 30, 2020, 04:59:46 PM
I believe there is more in common than divides us and it is inevitable that we will live in a more communitarian and co-operative society. Unfortunately this belief crashes into reality if you take one glance at a communal bin shed.

Our building recently received from the council a big food waste bin for all the flats. One or more of my neighbours disposes of food in there with the plastic wrapping left on.

The gulag will be too good for them.

My old neighbour and I never really bothered to have dedicated wheely bins, neither of us seemed bothered so we just used whichever, which worked fine until the council got a ribky-dink recycling factory that could process everything apart from plastic bags. The council asserted this by having bin checkers go round attaching red flags of shame to alert the bin men and the neighbourhood of your non-compliance.

My neighbour put bags in both, neither got collected and we had nowhere to put extra recycling, plus smaller bins. And because I abided by the rules I wasn't touching it.

They sorted it in the end, or piled on more recycling to form a veneer over the bags.

We're redoing our kitchen now and had people down the street accusing us of flytipping a load of old furniture. It's  obviously a cowboy house clearance operation doing a chekky 3am van dump at the end of a convenient cul-de-sac, but you couldn't tell that to the neighboorhood watch Columbos.

"Is that stuff down the end of the road yours?"

"No."

"It's just we saw the skip outside."

"Right, you saw a skip belonging to a registered waste carrier and thought 'these people have spent a considerable amount of money on the safe and legal disposal of waste, they must be flytippers.' And that we'd flytip in our own road? Really?"

Apparently they also accused someone a few doors down who's having a roof extension done.

madhair60

Tell Bog that if he ever speaks to you again you will remove one of his senses. If he questions this, just say touch, taste, smell, sight, hearing, one of them will be fucking going. If he presses the issue further say that the criteria have now changed to even being looked at. Then if he fails to obey your command, stick your keys in his eyes. Burst them. Pull the eyes out with your hands and eat them, laughing.

Shoulders?-Stomach!

Love it to see a load of cunts meet someone who won't back down. They probably still can't accept it wasn't you because you defended yourself 'aggressively' and see that as a sign of someone who is erratic and could do anything. That's human mentality.

Unfortunately without a genuine offer to sit down over a cuppa and have a chat, this just leaves a whole stink that will pervade your existence for years to come. People hate confrontation and love passive aggression. If you meet passive aggression with confrontation, that scares the shit out of some people.

I'm serious, put an invite out, make it as non provocative as humanly possible (and don't make it too grovelling either, focus on the positives and offer it as a chance to get to know each other properly) and just invite them to come around and talk it over, or even better, just invite them round for a totally unrelated related reason then mention this business as though it was a niggle and a side issue. If they reject it then you have moral highground anyway, if they accept then this will be all over and done with providing you're a reasonable man.

darby o chill

Quote from: Shoulders?-Stomach! on June 30, 2020, 05:44:03 PM
They probably still can't accept it wasn't you because you defended yourself 'aggressively'
But it was him. Bog saw him do it.


Goldentony

this all hinges on fuckin BOG

Goldentony

weve got the zodiac killer nailed, whos the key witness?

viceroy optimus cum slide

Shoulders?-Stomach!

Rizla Neighbours

BOG
JOHN TIT
PORK PIE THE MAN
THE CENTRE OF THE BIG TIME
HEAD HONCHO
HIMMLER 2
MS. PELVIS


Rizla

Thing is, Bog's problem isn't me or the pile of rubbish, it's the dawning realisation that he's yesterday's man. No olive branch in the world, no peace pipe I could proffer can change the fact that Bog is a person out of his time. Poor old Bog.

Sebastian Cobb

Quote from: Rizla on June 30, 2020, 06:51:30 PM
Thing is, Bog's problem isn't me or the pile of rubbish, it's the dawning realisation that he's yesterday's man. No olive branch in the world, no peace pipe I could proffer can change the fact that Bog is a person out of his time. Poor old Bog.

I think you should spell this out to him by writing 'FINISHED' on the ground outside his window.

Or maybe on his lawn using weedkiller.

Quote from: Fr.Bigley on June 30, 2020, 09:33:03 AM
Pretty obvious he just fancies you. Give him a tug, call it a draw.

Yeah, I reckon this behaviour is what Bog calls 'the rough wooing' - classic Bog.

Seriously, though - why doesn't somebody ask the council to come and take away the dumped rubbish? If it's on a road they maintain, they're supposed to clean it up if requested. That would remove the bone of contention, although maybe Boag would just shift his focus to something else.

Goldentony

write JUDAS on the womans car in dog shite

Sebastian Cobb

Quote from: Clatty McCutcheon on June 30, 2020, 08:55:23 PM
Seriously, though - why doesn't somebody ask the council to come and take away the dumped rubbish? If it's on a road they maintain, they're supposed to clean it up if requested. That would remove the bone of contention, although maybe Boag would just shift his focus to something else.

My area has a free bulk uplift service and people still fly tip and dump shit on the streets.

I don't even mind if it's got scrap value, like a cooker, as some Steptoe type will whisk it away, but manky sofas (there's a plether one by my gaff at the minute that has all the plether worn off the seats, backs and arms), mattresses and drawers can get to fuck.

If anything it's gotten worse since lockdown.

Also, people dump fridges then then some other cunt comes round and nicks the compressor leaving the rest of the fridge in the street with the pipes hacksawed out and the gases escaped.

I should've phrased that better - councils are supposed to clear fly-tipping if its on a road they maintain, as far as I'm aware.

I rarely see urban fly-tipping around my way, but drive out of town and its a real plague on lay-bys and quiet roads - I think a lot of it is van men who stick an ad on Facebook for cheap house-clearances and then dump it somewhere quiet at night.

The fly-tipping definitely got worse during lockdown, when the household ecycling centres were shut.

Sebastian Cobb

A while back someone dumped a stripped out caravan under one of the ex-railway bridges.

They do the uplift service to schedule pickups presumably, and the fact people will throw shite out anyway. But people just throw shit out to rot anyway.

I mean in urban areas sometimes there's a code - leaving stuff that might be of use still outside your door and carefully placed by the bins. As I said cookers and fridges for rag and bone men. I've dumped rubbish I should've taken to the tip but couldn't really be arsed to into the bins in the estate round the corner, so I'm no saint. But there's just shite everywhere here. I used to live in shite areas in Aberdeen but it's nothing like Glasgow.

Rizla

The thing is, as regards the pile of rubbish, it's starting to piss me off too, and ten minutes with my sturdy gloves and a shovel I'd happily spend to whap it in the bins (apart from the boulder, it's too 'eavy) but there's no fucking way I'm doing that now, cos fuckin Bogbollocks and his note pinning compadre would be guaranteed to see such an action as admission of guilt.  So fuck that for a game of soldiers.