The Fag Hag has generously decided to bestow a little piece of wisdom on those little darlings born après 1980, (you know the ones: they can’t spell very well, wear a lot of fake tan and think Anton Chekhov is a man in Strictly Come Dancing).
It’s not ‘wear sunscreen’ (oh just tan to hell like Donatella and save up for dermabrasion). It’s not ‘satin sheets are very romantic, what happens when you’re not in bed’ ( thanking you Lady Mads but satin sheets ain’t romantic, they’re for ladies who charge by the hour darlin’). It is in fact, ‘never underestimate the importance of a properly soundproofed flat’.
How do I know this? Take a wild fuckin guess Hetty Wainthrop…
Last night I heard my upstairs neighbour stomp home at 12.30am. I heard him watch a bit of I’m a Celeb he’d Sky Plussed at 1am. Then I heard him snoring like a broken fan belt on a 747… all goddam night. Then I heard him farting like the starting line at the Moto GP Rally… all goddam night.
And then, finally this morning, so wafer thin are my walls, I smelt his horrendous boozy/garlicky morning-after stench. ‘Disgusting sod!’ I yelled loudly as I threw open the windows and drenched the place in vanilla room mist.
He looked sheepish when I ran into him later… which is one good thing about wafer thin walls. You get to rant and make your point without ever having to confront anyone- just call me by my porn name, Passiva Agressiva.