A Three Dog Night is one so cold that three dogs have to be called into service as radiators.
They’re also that awful 70s covers band, but that’s another dismaying saga, and here we are concerned with my own.
Because last night, I had a Five Dog Night. It wasn’t cold, but the fiends performed in concert to make my night miserable.
A mysterious siren of some kind pulsed out its high pitch, acting as the perfect conductor, and excuse, to loose the hounds. Or more particularly, their vocal chords.
The pack kept up the aural assault from around 9pm to midnight, when blessed unconsciousness took me over. As if to properly scramble the nerves, every so often they threw in a teaser – a few minutes of silence.
I’d taken a punt, and branched out to the Hinterlands a bit.
The idea was to test whether an apartment going for a relatively cheap 4.5 million VND/month was going to be liveable. What with the Hounds, and the Trains, and the flimsy blanket, the answer was NO.
And all that discovery cost me was one shabby night’s sleep, and a few brain cells probably retired permanently.
I shifted today over to North side of town.