Poor Stevie

The dude who lives above us has the most awesome life ever.

Joel talked to him when we first moved in and he was all like, “I’m never here because I’m some kind of action cop/army/military/spy, so you’ll never see me”.

We never see him, but by the beard of Jesus, we have heard his every movement. Right now, he’s watching teevee – it sounds like maybe its Channel V or something similar – and I’m assuming he has surround sound because its loud, sharp and booming.

Last night at about 2am, not only did something outside my block of flats make a loud crash, but hot cop upstairs was actually running around his flat, putting washing on and generally being an unfriendly neighbour.

Not so long ago, Joel and I were spooning and falling asleep when we heard some girl in pure ecstacy – screaming and oohing and aahing. He was obviously ploughing her like there was no tomorrow.

Steve: Do you hear that?
Joel: Is that what I think it is?
Steve: I think … they’re doing it.

We’ve never heard her again – so he’s a tote bachelor

He also pees like an elephant. He must be busy and leave it till the last moment, because every single wee I hear him doing is like the Tom Hanks wee in A League of Their Own and I’m always tempted to get out my stopwatch and time it Madonna styles.

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