Everybody needs gurrt lush neighbours

The nice man from next door came round again the other evening to lend us his digital camera so that Prince Charming could take some photos of music stuff he's selling on Ebay (now that he's bought an Imac G5 - wooooh! - and a flash guitar with effects built in, the room full of pedals and keyboards and and other things with twiddly knobs on them are apparently no longer necessary). Nice Neighbour is turning out to be so nice that I am kind of wishing we'd gone to their party when we first arrived - they had some people round on Saturday night and it sounded quite raucous (apparently they have a tradition each year of getting their mates together and then driving round the local estates looking at all the lights on people's houses, and then getting pissed, which sounds like quite a laugh).
Anyway he told me about this great website. I was particularly interested to find out from the Bristolian dictionary that the local variant of "itchy chin" is "itchy barry" - where I grew up it was "chinny reckon" (with the emphasis firmly on the "on" and with an accompanying gesture of thumb to underside of chin). What a living language we have.
I attempted to extract information from Nice Neighbour about the Nasty Neighbours on the other side, but he didn't know much about them apart from the fact that they have a large barky-type dog. Being the owner of a large dog himself, he didn't necessarily agree with my theory that their dog was unhappy because they keep it in a small house, but we did have a good bitch about the fact that it got out of their garden twice over the weekend and ran around everyone else's gardens weeing in flowerbeds and scaring the life out of poor Ringo. I went round and knocked on the door to let them know their dog was loose and they didn't answer, although I could hear them out the back going "Harry! Harry!" which I guess must be the dog's name.
I didn't ask Nice Neighbour if he'd noticed the jeans. They're still there - two months to the day since I moved here - although now unfrozen.
Stil, he probably hates me now because not only did I say that keeping a big dog in a city was a bad thing, I also keep accidentally interrupting him so he probably thinks I'm super-rude. This is something I do when I'm really interested in a conversation and want to ask questions about what someone's saying (it stems from having grown up in a household where if you wanted to get a word in edgeways, you had to shout the other person down, and if you wanted to ask a question about what someone was saying, you had to interrupt or else by the time you got a chance to say your piece, not only would the conversation have moved on to other topics but you probably would have all grown up and left home) but it always comes across as the opposite.
At least I didn't crack jokes about foreigners or anything (his wife is Spanish). But I'll probably do that next time.