![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
perils of 2am dogwalking:
I love my neighbours, and my neighbourhood. We live in a street-corner house with entrances on two different streets; there's three flats on our side and the other side has a furniture shop and two flats above it. Everyone appears to be a total darlingface except the two people above us, who we used to worry about a lot until we realised that they were mother and son rather than husband and wife; the former seems a more forgiveable situation for regular tableflipping drama. I digress.
I just got talking to a guy from the other stairwell; he was just waving his probably-girlfriend away for the night when I was taking Precious to the park outside the building four down from ours, and we got chatting when I was on my way back with Grendel a few minutes later. He was shirtless and probably stoned. Anyway he had a squeeing fanboy fit when he realised I was English and started babbling at me about Lord Nelson and taking football seriously.
It was weirdly adorable.
I just got talking to a guy from the other stairwell; he was just waving his probably-girlfriend away for the night when I was taking Precious to the park outside the building four down from ours, and we got chatting when I was on my way back with Grendel a few minutes later. He was shirtless and probably stoned. Anyway he had a squeeing fanboy fit when he realised I was English and started babbling at me about Lord Nelson and taking football seriously.
It was weirdly adorable.
no subject
That perfectly sums up my reaction to my new neighbor, who upon meeting me introduced me to his two dogs and cat and asked if he could see my cats. When I saw him yesterday as I was coming back from a quick grocery run, he asked me, How is Mr. Oz Cat. Weirdly adorable. Yes.