Suffer for your art...

We have new neighbours two stairs up in our building. I'm sure they are very nice, and that they have the best of all intentions in life, but I fear they aim to make a living from their art - which incidentally seems to be some kind of performance art involving drills.

Today said neighbour have practised their art to their hearts content, and my discontent. I'm not entirely sure what they are working on, but by the sound of it I would hazard a guess that it has to do with a very large piece. For a moment I thought they were trying to drill their way all the way down into my bedroom.


What is wrong with being a mime, I ask? Mimes may be a bit odd, have weird ears and bad dress sense, but they are wonderfully quiet. Something sadly lacking in my building, I must confess. Next time I move house I will choose my abode on the quality of the neighbours. No drill artists, no old people with bad hearing, no families and no garden enthusiasts. Everyone knows they are the worst, always prying into your own English Park inspired patch, suggesting you may want to prune this hedge or that...