So I'm in the pub again. A corking girl is looking over her partner's shoulder at me, then at the mirror. Meh.
So I drink my beer and I'm not bothered particularly.
Two guys tell me I've dropped some money when I'm paying for my next pint.
Cheerful exchange.
Sit down.
The neighbour has been gone for four days.
When I get home, the noise starts. From a distance at first, then for a few seconds at a time.
Little loony is playing his crappy game.
So my stereo is back to moderate volume, full base and on all the time, partly to drown the cunt, partly to let him know I know.
If he breaks the rules, I'll floor it at midnight and when the neighbours complain he'll get the blame.
Little gobshite. Easier and safer than cutting the little bastard's head off. But not as satisfying.
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