Sunday, 19 January 2014

Blackpool: At World's End.

Last night, I got a sum total of two hours sleep. Forced to top it up this morning with an extra long lie in, I’m about caught up now- although I didn’t make it to the allotment, the shops or for the afternoon walk I was planning. Why was I up? Ask Blackpool Council.
For those of you that don’t know, I live in the town centre. Next door used to be holiday lets- that is thirteen flats, each with a little kitchen, bathroom and living area enclosed- until a businessman known only as Danny bought the place last year.
We weren’t asked by the council if we had any objections to this. We were assured there was no reason to complain and nothing we could do anyway as they didn’t need permission to change from temporary occupancy to permanent lets and so, nothing was thought of it.
We now have a property next door where the walls fall down every night. The police have been round five times in four days (twice last night, actually) and there has been blood, domestic violence, screaming, shouting and threatening in four different languages, at seemingly any time of day. Last night the madness started at about 23.30. There was fighting in corridors, fighting on the street, banging and clattering, slamming doors and the usual threatening, midnight language of a Saturday.   By 1.30 one of them had kicked their own alarm in and, since the promised ‘live in manager’ doesn’t exist, someone finally came to turn it off at about 4am- by which point we were all up and seriously pissed off.
Our best guess is that one of the thirteen flats is either running a knocking shop or a drug farm based on the numbers of people going in and out. We don’t know if there are trafficked slaves in there because we don’t know who is in there- well, apart from the small innocent children crammed into one of the tiny flats. What I do know is that with a hotel full of pigeon enthusiasts, we don’t need foxes in the coop next door.
And so why did Blackpool council grant the permission? Three surrounding properties made objections and refused to allow the little old guy on the other side of us to change his hotel business into 2 residential flats and this guy on the other side has got 13. The only deduction I can make is that there was a backhander paid somewhere, and so this blog really is a thank you note to whichever smug little cockroach is sailing around the Seychelles on that money. I hope your boat is rocked off course, smashed into an iceberg and, like the tourism industry of Blackpool, you starve to death. That, at least would be some justice.
Rant over: here’s a poem about just how petty I am being. The world is ending you know.

Before the World Ends

Give me the apocalyptic
The tales of desperate strife
The prom queen who can’t find her lipstick
The man who can’t help beat his wife

I want all of your tales of terror
They’re all valid, let’s give them a whirl
If we die and don’t tell them, we’ll never find heaven
Let’s document this rotten world.

It is ending, that’s one thing we’re sure of
With each spin we mark time passing by
Perhaps someone could put us a war on
Give us something to do not online

We’re the bastard kids of the Nintendo
A dazed, confused generation X
So we spend all our time with a whinge and a whine
Leaving nothing for those who come next

Yes, we’re fed up of being told one thing
Just to see that they’re doing another
Whether reds or true blues, there’s resources to use
If you can’t afford them, you’re in bother.

So come down and share your apocalypse
Post it up on a wall or timeline
You could gripe about grapes that are rotten to taste
Join the fun, we’re all drinking that wine.

Thanks for reading,
Sleep deprived S.



vicky ellis said...

Oh, I do enjoy a good rant poem. The frustration really comes across.

And you're quite right - the policy was supposed to be about reducing the number of crappy lettings available wasn't it? So it really doesn't make sense that this went ahead, unless there was an incentive that didn't go on the planning application.

Short term gain for a few and long term difficulty for many. Sounds about right.

Depressing but well worth shouting about. Thanks Shaun.

Ashley R Lister said...

It sucks ass about the neighbours from hell. I hope to God that it gets actioned effectively for you soon. This sort of crap is intolerable.

Great poetry.

Colin Davies said...

Sometimes I am actually in favour of just killing a lot of people.

I understand your plight all too well. Cracking poem.