Friday, 25 May 2012

My neighbour is a psycho

I don't know whether he actually peels the skin of peoples' faces to wear as masks, or tortures small animals in his spare time. In fact, I'm guessing not. Probably. Quite rare that is, isn't it?

But what he does do is laugh maniacally in short sharp bursts, apparently throughout the day, every day. I think this is unusual, I'm not going to lie. It's just odd. He doesn't appear to go to work. He doesn't appear to go out during the evenings. But he does cackle like some kind of stoner watching Cheech and Chong.

It's come to my attention again as I have had a piss poor week in the health stakes, frankly. Really, really shite. I am sick to fucking death of sick. This has meant I have been at home rather more than is usual. And I'm interested to note that his hyena-like braying is not just reserved for evenings and weekends. In fact, it begins pretty early and then comes in staccato bursts of hilarity throughout the day and evening.

I mean, he must be watching something seriously funny on TV. There's literally nothing that makes me emit more than a slight guffaw (New Girl and Grandma's House at the moment). Most comedies I fully enjoy but watch with an almost entirely straight or scowling expression. So what is it that he is watching? Unless he's not watching anything and just sits staring at a blank wall, every now and again bursting with uncontrollable laughter? Maybe he has a sort of tourette's syndrome that only manifests itself through shouts of barking laughter? Maybe he's found god and is laughing with the sheer joy of being? Maybe he's high?

I'm fascinated by this guy. I want to know what he does for money? How does he afford stuff? How does he support himself? Does he ever go shopping? Does he have any friends? What is it he's watching?

In American TV shows people always go and take their new neighbours cookies or some shit. I wonder if I should do that? In this country I spose you're more likely to be stabbed in the face for such a gesture. Maybe I'll wait till the inevitable shitfest that will be some kind of Jubilee 'street party' and then make subtle enquiries.

I don't mind him by the way. This is not a hate-filled rant by any means. I'd rather have him than some dreadful yoof pumping their shitty music through my wall. Much rather. It's kind of comforting in fact, the sound of his crazy giggling.

I'd miss it if it wasn't there.

I should probably get out more.

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