My old neighbour...
was scary as hell.

We're talking about 15 years ago here, when I was a kid. She was a scary old lady who had warts on her face and owned three yappy chihuahuas. I convinced my younger brother and sister that she was a witch. She'd shout obscenities at us for walking past her window as it apparently 'wreaked bloody havoc with her television reception', and scared the three of us so much that if we needed to pass by her window we'd crawl past so she wouldn't see us. She hated all children - absolutely detested them - apart from the local landowner's step-daughter (who was friends with my siblings). Eventually - three days before I sat my GCSE's - the evil bitch let it slip to the landowner's step-kid that my 'dad' was in fact not really my genetic parent. She, of course, ran straight to my brother and sister and told them. Can, worms, open. I'd kinda suspected he wasn't my birth father for a few years anyway, and just about managed to struggle through my exams after this highly stressful incident. (This was before the days when they awarded extra marks for personal circumstances and such-like).

I remember when the evil witch finally moved away. My mum opened the special champagne.
(bedsitmartyr : Doctor of Bottles, Fri 26 Aug 2005, 11:18, Reply)