Some plonker has gone and assembled the communal washing line right outside my kitchen window.
Don't get me wrong – Mrs Abdul and the rest of her minions hanging up fresh linen all day isn't the botheration.
Even that her five grown up daughters and their children stare into my living room en route to the aforementioned washing line, doesn't bother me.
Or that she needs to hang washing eight times a day.
(This is strange - just how much washing does this bitch need do?)
The fact that they enjoy ogling me spread eagle on my couch while I watch Girls Of The Playboy Mansion with a bottle of wine in front of me is not of concern to me. Who cares if she's seen me in my underpants?
The worrying aspect of the location of this washing line is when I don't know that somebody is actually there half the time. Often I'll walk into the kitchen and shit myself senseless on seeing a shadow hanging stuff and fannying around with clothes pegs.
When I don't know they're there at all, is when I'm concerned. What if I give my nethers a little scratch?
Or more worryingly: I talk to myself a lot. Most of it's crap infused with the lyrics of Def Leppard, but like yesterday, she was witness to an entire fucking soliloquy.
I was in the kitchen talking to myself loudly – but throwing in a couple of “Yeah! I think I'll have some hot chocolate, oocha oocha oocha oocha....”
And,
“God, these naked white thighs need a tan, Pour....some...sugar..on..me....., I am a strong, capable woman, yes I am, yes I am, when I'm inside my house, nobody can hurt meeeeeee...” Loudly.
I was a little embarrassed.
29 comments:
I'm more of a Led Zeppelin air guitarist myself..
Whats worse is a few times now I have caught myself while listening to my ipod about to launch into an extended riff/smash guitar sequence.. in public
I plugged my headphones into the microphone jack on my laptop the other day...and blasted the office with John Mellencamp. I kept increasing the volume as I could not hear properly.
A guy from three rows away came across to move the headphone jack to the right hole.
Did I feel like a real dickhead!!
Godsgimp - hahah! Never been a good air guitarist, but according to David Bullard we all do it online anyway :)
Lost in jozi - classic! Did you ask your colleague why he hates John Mellencamp so much? And why he didn't just share the love? ;)
I like to dance around my apartment. I like to think of it as rockin' out, but it's probably better described as spazzing out. Don't be embarrassed. Speak out, loud and proud. And if they give you funny looks, get all "why do you hate freedom ?" on their asses.
Don't get me started on Bullard..
He has got some things right tho, I blog so I can put, as, many, commas, in, the, wrong places as I like. So I can say things like; David Bullard can suck my salty nutsack. Just because I feel like saying it. Go back to your newspaper's where your editor checks your grammar and a suited masked auditor removes innapropriate words and phrases.
Bete - yah. It's not like she never talks to herself right? And if she doesn't, I can always go back to her putting eight sticks of incense in our passageway every fucking day - making it smell like a knock shop. :)
Godsgimp - exactly. I mean, when last did you read in print media: "Suck my salty nutsack bitch?"
:)
Peas my sweet.
You go through more emotions in a week then most of us go through in a year.
You need a shag fest of note methinks!!
She needs to do laundry eight times a day and you're embarassed?
Incidentally, you could turn this habit of yours into a worthwhile enterprise: Peas on Toast - the Podcast.
Antoine - it's a rollercoaster ride. Exhausting really.
But I don't see sex in my immediate future, very unfortunately. :(
Kyk - Good point. The woman can't stop washing stuff. Ever. As for a podcast - methinks it would sound like nails over a chalkboard mate :)
Oh Peas - this gave me a GOOD laugh coz I've experienced this twice before. The first place I lived in in Parkwood was a garden cottage and I was convinced that there were intruders on the property coz I kept hearing people outside my place and seeing shadows so kept pressing my panic button - turned out it was the housekeeper and they took the panic button away!
Then the second place I stayed in, the kitchen window faced a walkway. The randoms in my complex saw me in my knickers on a daily basis - I felt like I had show times!
Embrace it - my flatmate is now so used to hearing me talk to myself and dance by myself.
So what else do you talk to yourself about? I just have these visions of you and your vibrator friend...
Boldly - hahahaha! Classic. OK, I'm glad I'm not alone.
The Ant and I don't blink an eyelid when we're walking around half starkers either. It's become norm around these parts.
:)
Jam - ha! Mrs Abdul is muslim, I'm thinking she'd die if I started having a dualogue with Bushy.
Although...it's tempting.
"So Mr Whacker - what should we get up to tonight, my big pink penis? Huh, huh?"
:)
Kyk - it's quite clear that the reason she 'does washing' 8 times a day is to come past our flat and see what Peas is up to! And I can verify that a podcast would sound... extremely interesting. Go Peas!
Ant - whatcha say me and you start a vlog? Then we can post footage of the Abdul hanging up her undergarments within metres of us cooking something on our stove?
i had a strange short man staring into my poen today....does it get anymore embarrassing...?
pics on my blog for those who wana see....hehe
Cheap Thrills - no it certainly does not. That is epic sista.
This I have to see.
Why not turn this situtation to your advantage and get Mrs Adbul to do your laundry???
Yeah, she does seem to run a (possibly illegal?) laundromat service from her flat.
But from what I've seen, she has her hands full.
Illegal? Why, is she laundring money??
No. But the amount of washing she does, she probably has twelve washing machines in there.
All stuffed with heroin.
Ever consider curtains or blinds???
We have those. But they're semi-see through.
The landlady short charged us.
I disagree. C'mon, one little "oocha, oocha, oocha, oocha" won't kill you.
BTW if she is running a laundry at home, you could always rat her out to Uncle Trevor and bring down the wrath of SARS on her.
Bob Segers "Old time rock and Roll" is great for sliding around on your knees with a mop in your hand. Great Karaoke too.
One can never go wrong with some Kenny Rogers too.
Peaslet! You must embrace it man. Do a little dance for them and ask them over time if you improve!
Finally starting to feel better...
Thanks chaps! Don't be sorry when I take your advice to heart and I get in lots and lots of trouble :)
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