Hoors? Yeah... Hoors. Prostitutes, Tarts, Hookers, Ladies of Negotiable Affection, call them what you will. For 8 years or so I lived in granite tenement. My Neighbours Were Hoors. Sadly for us all (!?) the brothel was closed down and I moved out of the area. I never did get around to writing about the court case though...

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Where have they gone?

So here I am, writing this just fresh out of the taxi of the most easily despiseable taxi driver in the whole of the grey toon.

Pal. Don't rant to me. Don't rant to me at all. Especially about:

a) The new shops they're building at the Haudagin Roundabout.
b) The city bypass.
c) Organic Farms.
d) My choice of mechanic. He is a lovely man and not a crook. When was the last time someone fixed YOUR alternator for free?
e) Other taxi drivers. Especially the ones with the green plates.
f) Wellington Road.

And then when you drop me off after taking the slowest route possible, don't ask me where the Hoors have gone! Yes. I know you like to everything that's going on and Yes. I know you had one of them sorting out her paraphenalia (!?) in your back seat. But that doesn't give you the right to have an additional 5 minute rant and inquisition once you've taken me to my destination.

Twat.

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