Bastards, that about sums them up. They eat fruit all day and night, then shit where they hang. "What's the problem?", You may ask, I will fukin' tell you mate!
When your bed is directly under them, it don't bode well because the detritus sticks to clothing and skin. After a night of being shit on, I resemble a leper that has been in a nude paintball fight. Covered in it, I am.
Then, the little bastards start the chattering thing, not loud, just a muttering sound. When I look at them, it stops.
For weeks I thought I was hearing voices. Bastards!
These hanging fruit baskets, wait till I'm asleep, snoring me conk off, what do they do? Start fukin' flying from one end of the loft to the other. As soon as I wake and jump up to bash the gits, they are all back hanging upside down lookin' like a grape wouldn't melt in their gobs!
They are fruity alright, at it all the time, shag like there is no tomorrow! And they do it in front of me!
What can I do? I'm not moving back to the garden shed, not in this weather, maybe I should get an umbrella?
Back to the loft......See ya.