Hot Baby Roy is Here To Stay

Hot Baby Roy told me last night that his landlord phoned him asking why he hadn't been at the house for a few weeks. Hot Baby Roy told him that he'd had death threats (which is at least an exageration and probably a complete lie) and the landlord told him that the house was a mess and that Hot Baby Roy could fuck off because if he ever saw him again he'd break his bones.

Hot Baby Roy screamed and hung up on him. Now it seems Hot Baby Roy is here to stay. I knew it from the start, still it has its come at the best time because I need Hot Baby Roy to help me get back into the Leotard Girls good favour.

I asked him how much of a mess his old house was and he just shrugged and said "a bit of wank here and there but the place was a dump anyway."

He saw I looked less than impressed and he shouted "it's okay I won't wank here, I respect the people I share with."

I don't believe him. I think he wanks on the sofa when the house is free.

Little My is Boring as Fuck

In work today Little My has been boasting like fuck all about what her boyfriend bought her for Christmas and more importantly how much it all cost and how she checked the price of it in the shops and her man isn't cheap. They've only been going out a few weeks so he might be an arsehole. Kissy Boy says he's definitely an arsehole, not just for the money he spent but for going out with Little My in the first place.

He asked her what did she buy him and Little My said that it was the man's place to splash the cash.

It'll all end in tears, hopefully hers.

She told a story all about how her man told some guy in a pub to "fuck aff" and it was some craic and how her and all her mates have some craic slagging the pish out of each other.

It sounds like a San and Tray appreciation society.

Little My's ma Big My sits in the bar and tells dickheads to shut up and she hit someone a dig in the face and it was all too much to listen to. I looked round to see that no one else was listening either.

As Little My finished her story no one laughed in the right place so she told it again, louder with more cursing.

No one laughed this time either.

She said, "there's something wrong with you folk, no one here's any craic."

I nearly bought some crack when we got out wages but I didn't want to tell anyone. There were fuck all calls coming in so I'm just waiting for Little My to shut up or the shift to end.

Just Another Series of Fights, Arguements and Fuck All Else

So Hot Baby Roy was supposed to get his dole on the 23rd and he gets it and goes and gets pished and all that but then on Christmas Eve when he's trying to buy presents (he says) he finds out that they've fucked it up and only given him one weeks money. In my experience of being on the dole those fuckers at the Conor Building on Great Victoria Street couldn't run their fingers up their own arses. The most useless bunch of fuckers there is.

Anyway he says that's the reason he's bought us shit presents. I personally don't care because I know he doesn't have much money and Wino Jo was threatening to stab him a week ago so I'm surprised he's buying him anything.

He gets me a copy of FHM with the calender which is great because it has Pixie Lott and Eliza Dushku in it so yum yum. He gets Wino Jo a whoopie cushion from the joke shop which Wino Jo has lots of fun with. He knows what he's doing when it comes to Battle Cat and gets him this cool as fuck collar which will make Battle Cat look like a big mean dog even though he's really soft as shite.

Wino Jo bought us both tank tops, which he says is in fashion but I remember seeing him wearing these about five years ago so I'm not convinced.

I bought them both fancy aftershave because they both lack in this department. Hugo Selection for Wino Jo and CK One for Hot Baby Roy, neither of them nice as mine but you don't have to put yourself at the back of the queue when helping out others.
Battle Cat got a new blanket and a big juicy bone.

As for the fights, arguements and fuck all else it didn't happen with us, we just had a nice time and fell asleep watching TV with our faces stuffed.

Hope everyone else had a good Christmas.

Sometimes things can be nice

Last night I went round Nanny Boo Boo's. She said that she knows what happens in my blog and she's none too impressed. She said that I shouldn't be getting pished and talking down about my mates even if I think they've made a mess. She said Hot Baby Roy is a mess but he means well and she thinks that he could be a good guy to get in with those aerobics girls.

I told her that they wear leotards and she said that I wasn't at her house to score points. She said she rooted for me and anyone who was on my side. We talked about how we'd only known each other since this year and I told her that if Battle Cat could have wondered into anyone elses garden I'm glad he didn't because I think Nanny Boo Boo is great. She gave me a pair of socks and I half smiled and then she gave me a bottle of gin and said she's glad I don't smoke crack, and I felt a bit self conscious because I never really knew how much some people I know keep an eye on me. It's funny but Nanny Boo Boo makes me feel like I've more back up than I think sometimes.

Battle Cat was with me and the two of them had a right old time. I had bought her a gift. I'm shite shopping for presents so I won't say what but I think it was okay. I hope you're all doing well. Merry Christmas and thanks for reading this.

That's Bad Crack

So I got my pay and headed straight up to get some crack but my old crack dealer isn't there any more, probably busted. I deleted all my numbers when I gave it up. Fuck that. Hot Baby Roy might have some numbers on his phone so I fucked off to the house to see if I could get hold of his phone.

I bought a bottle of gin on the way and was pure pished by the time I reached the house. The Raven Princess Spandex came to the door and I started babbling away about how hot she was and I was sorry if Hot Baby Roy had tried to steal one of her leotards. And just as I started to catch on she'd been looking puzzled for ages I shut up.

"Hot Baby Roy was great, some guys showed up and started trashing the place and he stopped them. I just wanted to give him this," she put a present in my hand and I didn't know what to say, so I boked all over myself.

"I hope none of that hit you," I said to her as I slid down the wall.

The Raven Princess Spandex is so hot, and now I've no chance. I've been so embarrased I've been up in my room sobbing and swaying gently, I still hope I can fix this.

Who needs to lick the bowl?

Fuck this I'm going back on the crack

I confronted Hot Baby Roy today about his black eyes and asked him what he did at the party. He told me that if I was so concerned I'd have been there. I told him I had to sort out other things but I don't want our neighbours hating us and if he's done something he needs to tell me so I can put it right.

He rolled his eyes and went outside taking Battle Cat with him for a walk. He muttered something about me being a "skinny hoss bastard," and Battle Cat growled a bit at him. Glad to see he's still loyal to me.

I can't believe what a mess this whole thing's turning out. Work is shite too, I sat most of today in the disabled toilets sniffing a sharpie and trying not to cry.

I just want to get paid (tomorrow) and get some crack in me.

Talking Street Drinking and Missing Cool Partys

Hot Baby Roy left for the party looking cool last night and I sat in with Wino Jo, who was in a wile state thinking he was back on the drink. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I'd beat him up in his sleep.

Hot Baby Roy was spurting all this shite about spandex and making fetish videos with the Leotard Girls once he had one or more of them for a girlfriend. It was not fucking fair. He's going to ruin our chances with them when he lets his drooling hard on do the talking, bastard.

I told him that I wasn't going to save him if some big musclebound lughead beats him up.

He went away saying I'd thank him for it when I saw it working.

Hot Baby Roy heard the loud music coming from next door a bit later and he asked what was happening.

I told him there was a party and we'd been invited if he wanted to go. He said that he'd probably make a dick out of me if he went there and got drunk.

I told him Hot Baby Roy was probably already doing that for me.

I took him for a walk into the city centre because I couldn't hack him sitting round the house in the state he was in. I thought it would make him calm down a bit.

This made him worse, he kept seeing all the tramps and saying "there's where I'll end up."

I the end I stopped outside a pub and told him that I'd go in with him and make sure he didn't drink. I wouldn't drink either.

He was scared to go in but I told him that I'd look after him.

He agreed that he'd go in for a coca-cola.

When we went in there was live music playing and he sat and talked to me about how the music was decent and I told him that he needed to learn to let other people do what they wanted and that it was okay if other people have different tastes.

He said that he had a right to say if things were bad. I told him he did but sometimes you just have to let things go and let other people do whatever is making them happy.

He said that was a fair point and said that he wouldn't stab Hot Baby Roy. We drank our mineral and went home.

He seemed calmer and he went for a walk earlier when Hot Baby Roy stuck on a mucky DVD.

Hot Baby Roy isn't talking about the party but he has a black eye and came home in tears last night. I'll get to the bottom soon enough.

My Cool Plans Backfire

Wino Jo was in a terrible state this morning. When I came down the stairs he was sitting shaking and drinking a big mug of black coffee.

"I think I'm back on the drink," he said.

"Why's that?" I said looking into his battered tear stained face.

"I've taken a terrible kicking, I must have been pished as fuck last night. I don't remember a thing."

I felt terrible. The kicking was meant to put him in his place, not make him think he's having blackouts.

It's the The Raven Princess Spandex and Princess Cheetara's party tonight and now I can't bring Wino Jo and I can't leave him alone because he was telling me he was going to go and down a bottle of Joop.

Now I'm going to have to let Hot Baby Roy go on his own and fuck things up for us.

Wino Jo Needs To Go!

Wino Jo threw another fit last night and told me that he was going to stab Hot Baby Roy if he brought another filthy video into the house.

I told him that they were DVDs and he smashed a cup. He threw it against the window but we have double glazing so it didn't break it.

He told me that he needed to show Hot Baby Roy and me about decency and how to live our lives.

I started thinking about how he lived with my metaller brother with all his heavy metal about sex and killing and occult stuff. Wino Jo says my metaller brother toes the line.

I rang my metaller brother and he told me he kicked Wino Jo out to fuck after he melted a Rage Against The Machine CD on him and wished me luck with the weird fucker.

I told him I couldn't be arsed and warned Hot Baby Roy that he might get stabbed. I'm going to beat Wino Jo up in his sleep tonight and give him nightmares to make him move out. Hope it works. Wish me luck.

How to Kick a Housemate Out?

So Wino Jo missed his train the other night because of hot card game action and I left him stay. I was nice having him and I was planning on letting him live at mine. I'd even half said to him. There'd be a problem with Hot Baby Roy having to go but family is family like they're always saying on Eastenders and in shit London gangster flicks (one and the same I suppose).

So I'm mulling over in my head how to do it when Hot Baby Roy suggests watching a movie he's stolen from HMV - Blue Crush.

It's about surfer girls and stuff they do, like surf and have full-on relationships with surfer guys.

The movie was taking off and it was a swell pile of balls when Wino Jo jumps up and shouts:

"What a load of shite? I refuuuuuuuuuuuuuse to watch this filth!"

"What's wrong?" says Hot Baby Roy, all startled. I had to half-agree with Wino Jo it was a stinker.

"Semi-naked girls! gyrating on surf boards! This will not do. It's complete filth!"

"That's not filth, that's real life," Hot Baby Roy said, a complete look of disbelief on his face.

"This sort of stuff makes people murderers and rapists," Wino Jo shouted out and saliva was running down his face and he was swinging his fists wildly in the air like he was about to go for Hot Baby Roy.

"Calm down for fuck sake," I shouted. "It might be shite, but all that other stuff is pure balls"

Wino Jo shot me a look like he might swing for me.

"If you're staying here you can either watch what we watch or you can go for a walk until it's finished. There's nothing wrong with watching something that's getting you ready for a wank before bed," I said.

That was the end of that but I know more bullshit is going to come in the next few days. I might have to ask Wino Jo to leave. He's not coming to the party at the Leotard Girls with that mouth. He'll blow our chances of sex!

The Correct Rules of Jack Change It

My Brother Wino Jo called round last night. Because he's still tee-total we couldn't drink in front of him (we could but it's a bit like rubbing it in his face) and we thought it wasn't wise to sniff felt tips or talk about shoplifting.

We played cards with him because this is nice and wholesome. No gambling because he starts talking about addiction when you even mention lottery tickets.

We played Jack Change It. Now most people play with a lot of balls rules that are a load of shite and Hot Baby Roy was no exception. Here are the definitive rules. Anyone who says anything else is talking shite:

Everyone is given 7 cards at the start. The object of the game is to get rid of your cards first.

The top card on the remaining pile is turned up. This is the starting card and determines the starting suit.

You can only put down cards belonging to the suit currently in play. There are two exceptions to this. The first is if you have a jack, putting down a jack allows you to change to any suit of your choice, or keep the current suit. You can play a matching card. For example, if a 5 of clubs is in play a 5 of hearts can be placed on top, this changes the suit in play to hearts.

If you cannot play a card you take a card off the top of the remaining pile. When this pile is done the played cards are turned over (bar the top one) and are used to pick up from.

Trick cards are as follows:

2s: If you play a 2 the next player picks up 2 cards, unless they have a 2 in which case they can play it and make the next player pick up 4 (this can continue up to 8).

8: 8 makes the next player miss a turn (regardless of whether they have an 8).

Ace of Hearts: This makes the next player pick up 5. This cannot be passed on or avoided at all. The ace of hearts is the only ace with a trick value.

Jack: as previously stated this allows you to keep the current suit or change it to a suit of your choosing.

Queen: There is a rule that queen changes direction though this isn't played much anymore and can be omitted if players choose to.

After playing your penutimate card you must say last card or you are not allowed to play it. You must pick up on your next go.

If anyone plays with other rules they are not playing Jack Change It and can fuck off.

That's what we said to Hot Baby Roy and he choose to play by the rules.

Wino Jo said he was glad to see me and that he hoped we could see more of each other now he was getting his life sorted out. He doesn't have a job yet but he's applying and he'd like to move back to Belfast soon.

Shoplifting out of Urban Outfitters and Top Man is easy

Hot Baby Roy met me after work and asked me if I was ready to get all cooled up. I told him I was going to turn the streets of Belfast into a skating rink with my ice cold coolness. He told me that people haven't said 'Ice Cold' in years, and he looked away that way you do when someone says something that makes you think they're a wanker.

I let him walk on and spat on his back for that. I made sure I wiped it off before we reached the shops because much as I wanted people to laugh at him I didn't want the shop assistants to notice us on the rob.

I'm not going into details but I will say that Urban Outfitters and Top Man are easy as fuck to shoplift from and we are cool looking as fuck.

On our way home this indie girl was giving us sexy eyes all the way along the street, after seeing that we were wearing the clothes from these cool shops (yes we walked out wearing them, leaving our flee bitten rags in the changing rooms). Hot Baby Roy said she was too old but I told him she looked to only be about 19 he said that she was older and said she'd had everything between her legs but a bar of soap.

I'm not sure she was the dirty one.

Hot Baby Roy Talks Ego

Hot Baby Roy was up this morning when I was getting ready to go to work. He said he was taking Battle Cat for an extra special long walk. Battle Cat looked really happy, wagging his tail and thumping it off the floor. Hot Baby Roy looked worried.

He said that we need to make sure that we look cool at this party too and that we need to get new outfits. I told him I'd no money. He said there was a time that wouldn't have stopped me.

He also said we needed to make sure we knew about all the latest stuff in the charts because the Leotard Girls would want guys who knew about stuff like the Saturdays. Especially The Raven Princess Spandex (the black haired one who Hot Baby Roy says I have to like best because he likes Princess Cheetara best (the blonde one)).

He told me about a girl group called the Saturdays and how in their new video they were dressed as superheroines. He says his favourites are Rochelle and Frankie because they used to be in the S Club Juniors, then he saw the look of suspicion on my face and shouted "S Club 8! I mean S Club 8!"

Then he showed me the vid for their new song Ego. I know the bastard's going to wank all round the house to it after I've gone to work.

Hot Leotard Muscle Party Time

One of the Leotard Girls came round to the house today, it was the one with the black hair. Hot Baby Roy was out walking Battle Cat. I've seen this pattern before. Fabian Wildman used it go get his feet under the table and I just can't feel bad towards someone who's nice to Battle Cat.

Anyway she asked if we would like to come to a party at their house this weekend. I was very happy but with them being sporty they probably know big beefy muscle men and me and Hot Baby Roy (oh fucking dear) are going to have our work cut out pulling them with the beefy boys in town.

I went upstairs to do some press-ups and found that I could only do five before my arms stopped working, Hot Baby Roy came back to find me lying on the ground sweaty and panting.

He thought I was doing a cool new wank but I told him we need to beef up for the Leotard Girl's party this weekend or we're never going to pull them.

Cleaning up Bad Stranmillis

I went down to see Nanny Boo Boo today. It seems that My Protege has turned into a right wee shite and is turning Stranmillis into a violent ghetto. I told her that it's time I took to the streets and kicked his ass Equalizer style.

I went and found the bozos he hangs with. Nanny Boo Boo says he shoots dope with them. I grabbed one of them by the arm and pointed at the track marks.

"Get clean, you flithy bastard."

I nutted the bozo in the face and asked where My Protege was. A girl said that he was in hiding from my big gay ways.

I kissed her passionately so she knew what thug passion was running in my viens.

She burst into tears and said she hopes she didn't catch STDs from me, her running with her dope shooting pals.

I told her I didn't have the STDS and I wasn't going to let them turn Stranmillis into a bad dope den.

Hungry for Love and Crack

So this morning I called in sick to work. I'm not enjoying it and I spend the weekends doing everything that I had to put off during the week. Plus with working Monday to Friday (my training lot are going to be put on shift patterns next week so that we'll be working some weekends and some late nights, with weekdays and mornings off) I've missed out on things like going to the bank to scrounge money. I want an overdraft and a credit card that I'm going to max out and change address when they ask for the money back.

Hot Baby Roy was all twitchy this morning and asked me if I ever fancied going back on crack. I told him no, even though I get tempted (now more than in the past). I told him that all I needed was a few felt tips once in a while and just enough whiskey to make me boke in my mouth and leave that smokey aftertaste.

He said he gets tempted, though what he really wants is true love. I told him that true love doesn't exist outside of his DVDs. He pulled a face like a child who has been told they're not getting that gift you promised them.

Then he said he had something in his eye and ran upstairs to the bathroom. I heard some sobbing through the door and he had a big red face when he came out.

He asked me if we could have a party and invite the Leotard Girls. I told him maybe. He smiled a bit but he'd big bloodshot eyes and a look that said he was hungry for love.

Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince

Hot Baby Roy had Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince and a big bowl of home popped pop-corn waiting for me when I got home last night.

He was so excited and said this was going to be the best thing since we met the Leotard Girls. I was very excited too and had been lucky to have bought a big bag of Doritos on the way home.

We sat down and got ready for a whole evening of Hermione and the other peeps. Hot Baby Roy very quickly started talking about how sexy Emma Watson looked but I asked him not to break my suspension of disbelief; I liked to think I was spending the evening with Hermione Granger, not an actress playing her.

He said this was cool and we watched the whole thing without him spoiling it for me once, we salivated and mopped it off or mouths and chins with doritos and popcorn then at the end of the evening sad as we were (I won't spoil the ending) we went up stairs and wanked. (I could say I assumed that Hot Baby Roy wanked but that's like saying if it's wet outside that you assumed it has rained, not that I saw any fluid from him).

Ice Cold in the Face of the Truffle Shuffle

This morning I was called into the manager's office. Not London Girl's wee cubicle but the big head honcho guy. He's a big English squadie whose face wobbles when he gets angry. He was bloody fuming at me today and his face was getting on lick chunks belly when he does the truffle shuffle.



There, that's his fat fucker face. I sat there like Corey Feldman trying to keep ice cold (like Andre 3000) but big chunks of Truffle Shuffle's spit went all over my face. He also can't say his fs and launches into them like an exhausted hurdler smashing himself and the hurdle into shite as he misjudges the jump or his energy or both. Using this technique Truffle Shuffle can throw his breath in the same way a ventriloquist can throw a dummy.

Anyways it was about my being a bad mawfucka on the phones. I'm not getting the sack but I am on a final warning.

Kissy Boy gave me the thumbs up when I told everyone. Ice Cold.

Sleepwalking Underwear Thief

So I was lying in bed last night trying to sleep after a hard week's work when I hear Hot Baby Roy open his room door and shuffle off down the stairs. He's walking funny by the sound of things so I go out and follow him. I catch him in a pair of tatty blue y-fronts heading towards the back door with one eye open.

"Hot Baby Roy, get back here now."

"I'm sleepwalking," he says turning round. He'd this look on his face like he was so innocent of whatever it was I was blaming him for but Fabian Wildman used to sleepwalk so I now what proper sleepwalking looks like. I told him so.

"Don't blame me because Fabian Wildman fucked off with a gang of snobby pricks, there was a time you'd have been over that fence the day after they'd moved in."

"I don't want to be sitting wearing stolen panties on my head," I told him. "I want a girl of my own, so I can do this stuff without anyone calling the police. Maybe you should try that too, instead of fucking it up for yourself. Running around with DVDs full of barely legal girls, catch a fucking grip."

"I don't watch them for the girls," he said. "I watch them because they express a naive but touching view of love, as something to get excited and giggle about with your mates. Not some tough strained life crushing series of events that leaves you fucked up and bitter. I want to believe, there's nothing wrong with that."

This sounds suspect, especially because it's coming from a grown man who's just faked sleepwalking to get his hands on some girl's clean knickers.

First One To Leave

Rap Superstar quit today. Not in a big dramatic fuck you to the boss or anything. He'd handed in his notice last week and off he went (after emailing us all a shite rhyming couplet or two to say farewell). He's the first from our training group to go (the ones that made it past training that is - 9 left). Didn't last long.

Me and Little My were talking about it when Kissy Boy told us that there was only him and Book Boy left from their training groups and they'd been there only two months.

Seems turn over is really high in this job, so he says they're unlikely to fire me because they don't like letting people go after training them up, because they find it hard to hold to people anyway. Even if they do get cheap bowling at the Odyssey (company perk).

London Girl is still trying to make me sweat but Kissy Boy says that's just her way, he's had five final warnings but knows he's in with the bricks.

New-ish Neighbours

Hot Baby Roy keeps talking about going round to see the "leotard girls" next door, and the last thing I want is them to meet him and him get the cops called. He's already talking about when they put their washing out he's going over the backyard fence to get some of it. I've told him he's out if he does but I go to bed a lot earlier than him so I can't keep watch all the time.

So I went round there myself to say hi, even though they've been there over a month.

They were very friendly and invited me in. Not a leotard in sight, though they are very beautiful. I now saw why Hot Baby Roy can't keep his mouth shut about them.

They asked if Hot Baby Roy lived with me. I said it's a temporary thing and they said it was nice of me to look after him. I think they meant in a carer sense but I didn't ask for clarification. It's his own fault the way he screws his face up and it goes red and he hops about like he's trying not to piss himself every time he talks about them.

By the sounds of things every guy on the street has come sniffing round them looking for a date even old Mr. Spoon, who asked if they wanted a glass of his burdock wine.

I didn't ask them out, not because I didn't want to but because I'm skint until my wages come in. Then I went home and salivated with Hot Baby Roy, I still won't let him steal things off their washing line though.

Spare Keys and Credit Card Details

I had to go and get a key cut on my lunch break today because Hot Baby Roy said he never had one last time he stayed. He said that Fabian Wildman must have kept his after he moved out. I didn't like the idea of him running about with a key because if he goes back onto crack he'll come round on the rob.

My boss was nice to me today, not especially just really cheery, which if my memory serves me (and with all the crack I've smoked sometimes it doesn't) means I'm about to get the boot. I made note of two wanky customers credit card details today, no sense ripping off nice people.

On the way home I thought up a song about needing money and asking people to spare change. I wrote it down but I saw a tramp in the rain with not much in his cup so I gave it to him. Should have kept it, might need it in a few weeks.

Getting Fired From Work

I might be getting fired from work for telling someone to smell my ring (when I came in drunk). London Girl called me into her cubicle (if she was a proper boss she'd have an office) and gave me a big officious talk about our company and how it value's customer service. I just nodded and said that it wasn't me. She said I'd find out later in the week if she was going to take it any further. If she does she might find that I've taken down some customer credit card details for when the money runs out, but by then I'll be long gone.

Up her hole.

With that Hot Baby Roy was waiting outside my house when I got home from work today. He was all excited and grinning so much I asked him if he was in pain. He said no but while he was waiting for me my neighbour went running into her house and he couldn't wait to get to know her.

I asked him did he not meet her at my birthday. He says he was too wing-wanged to be thinking about pussy but that he spoke to her while she was getting her keys out and that she teaches aerobics, which means she has lots of leotards and he'd seen Buns of Steel loads of times so he'd have lots to talk about with her.

He was salivating at the mouth so to calm him down I asked him what he wanted.

He asked if he could stay at mine for a few days because this gang was going to kick the shite out of him.

I couldn't refuse, he'd everything (including a set of shite DVDs) in a paper Primark bag.

Going into Work Drunk

Today was the first time I went to work drunk. I was still drunk from the night before so it's not like I'm being irresponsible.

I fucked up my first few calls and the customers gave off about me being shit. I hung up on them even though you're supposed to give them a warning.

My call handling time is not as good as it should so I hung up on a few folk. One of them I said "smell your ring, yeow!"

I don't know why though, I went to the toilet and boked my ring up. I heard some grunting noises coming from the disabled toilet and I was sure it was humping and pumping going on in there. I guess that's the sex meet up point. Gonna keep my eyes peeled and hope to get some hot lady in there with me at some point.

I noticed today how some people like everyone to hear their calls, they speak with a loud authorative tone so that people on the other side of the office can here them.

This was pissing me off loads so I walked past one of them and said "smell your ring, yeow!" so the customer would hear. Not the smartest move, because the guy who took the call eyeballed me then came up and asked if I'd hung up on the customer earlier. I told him that I didn't hang up on customers and receited the company motto. I think he fell for it. I hope so, I want to keep this job for a bit.

How to Get on the Internet at Work!

I can post at work now because Book Boy showed me a way of getting on blogger. See on Internet Explorer everything like this is blocked but if you use Firefox nothing is blocked. The tech dudes are a bit pish like this. Anyway Firefox is hidden away in some folder so the bosses just don't seem aware it's there. He said to keep it to myself because only a few of us know about it and if the boss finds out shit will fly.

Speaking of the boss, there's a lot of them about and I don't want to dump them all on you at once so I'll talk about my team leader London Girl. London Girl is from London and always bangs on about it, how it's bigger than Belfast and how Belfast closes down at night but London never stops. Little My said if she doesn't like it here she should fuck off back there. Book Boy says this is racist but Little My says it's not because London Girl is white. I think Book Boy has a point though. I think London Girl might be alright outside of work but in work she likes to crack the whip. I think in a past life she might have been a slave driver and maybe that's why she's experiencing racism in this life.

Lemon Bonbons and the Secret of New Moon Cinema

I was in work huffing and stuffing my face with lemon bonbons when Little My asked if she could have one because she thought they tasted so nice.

"Ha! No!" I said shoving four into my mouth at once.

"Why are you being nasty?" she said.

"I didn't start it," I said.

"Tuesday Kid, are you annoyed that you didn't get to go and see New Moon with us?"

"No way," I spat, but a tear rolled down my cheek and gave the game away.

"It is that. We'd have invited you but it was a spur of the moment thing, we were all at the pub after work, and you'd hurried home to see your dog, we all said it was a shame that no one had your number. We even had book boy try to use his big brain to work it out but no luck. Please be friends. If you won't be it's just mean."

"I suppose," I said pushing the bag of lemon bonbons towards her.

"Thanks," she said. "We all thought you seemed a bit hurt yesterday so we'd a wee chat, and keep this a secret, but we're all chipping in when we get our first wage packet to get you a skateboard."

I beemed a big smile and said this was class. I always wanted to be a skateboard dude and I couldn't wait.

I gave her another bonbon and told her to pass them round, among the friends.

New Moon Cinema Extravaganza

So in work today all the rest of the staff (my team anyway) were all talking about how they'd went to see New Moon on Friday. I was the only one who hadn't went. I hadn't been invited. Kissy Boy and Little My were talking all about how it was so romantic and all that. Little My took this to mean she's in with a chance but I have my doubts. Book Boy was saying that I hadn't missed much, he just went to hang out with everyone.

Me too! That's why I'd have went. I haven't even seen Twilight. I was so annoyed I just sat and my desk and kept my mouth shut. I was still raging when I bumped into Hot Baby Roy in the continental market. Both of us were there on the rob (stealing always cheers me up). He said he'd go and see it with me, he'd been looking forward to it and that Dakota Fanning is growing up feisty and nicely.

I don't want my face kicked off so I told him it wasn't missing it that I missed but the companionship.

"Who better than with friends?" he said grinning.

I know he means me and him but he's going to get so arrested one day and I don't want my house searched as a result.

I tried to steal a wicker snowman but it was too hard. I fucked off up the road while Hot Baby Roy was on the Belfast Big Wheel.

Settling in at work

It's only been one week and I'm already starting to settle in, this should be good. I still have time for Battle Cat, so that's the main thing.

The problem is, is it good to feel settled in? I can't say too much about what we do because mainly if I start to say things that let people know where I work etc, I can't be so open about other things. In fact I've already been to open to feel comfortable with anyone knowing who I am unless I've checked them out first.

Mainly I'll say that it's a call centre and involves credit card transactions. I'll also say that it involves unreasonable and unrealistic things like monitoring how long people spend on each call and bollocking them if they spend too long, regardless of whether they've sorted the problem out.

I know that when I call a call centre about a problem I resent the idea that they're watching the clock and trying to get me off the phone. I'm not calling for a chat or to waste someone's time I'm calling to get something sorted out.

So is it really okay for me to feel settled in and happy to be doing this?

I remember when I was at school having a part time job in a nearby factory. I also remember a friend starting at the same time I did. He quit after three days because he could still see the job from the outside and knew that sometimes you shouldn't slip into that comfortable feeling. It looks uncomfortable for a reason.

Volunteering in Prisons and Hot Baby Roy

I was walking over the Ormeau Bridge last night when I bumped into Hot Baby Roy, he was telling me that he thought his idea for a pub quiz would never get off the ground and that he thought people thought he was a joke. He'd show them, Hot Baby Roy was going to rule this city one day. He'd become something important, like mayor.

He was getting pretty worked up and I told him that I thought he should do some voluntary work, just to show the community he cared about them in his heart.

He snorted and said that the only person he ever knew that did voluntary work used to go into prisons and the guards would sedate all the prisoners and he'd go in and molest them then fuck off home and Hot Baby Roy thought that was disgusting.

I told him he should go to Oxfam and sell clothes. He said that he couldn't be trusted on a till. People have to know their limits and he knew his.

He asked me how the call centre was working out and I told him it was shite because I didn't want him getting a job there. I said on the first day they take you into a room and kick the shite out of you. He looked keen and asked if any women did the beating.

I told him no, it was all ugly men.

Forget it, he said. But I can't I've been thinking about it since yesterday.

David Cameron doesn't care if his wife doesn't cum

Today I had a whiff of what Kissy Boy does to earn his sex man status in the call centre. He started a conversation today about making women cum. He said that all men care about making women cum and that it's just a myth that men role over and go to sleep after they've cum.

Some girl said that her last boyfriend used to wank in the shower and wipe it on the wall. The room went quiet then and it seemed she'd cast herself as the unwanted one in the office (Little My smiled to herself at that point).

Kissy Boy spoke up and said: "I can't believe that men like that exist, I always make sure the woman comes first."

"Yeah right, all men want to come," said Little My, rampant on 5 cups of tea.

"Don't worry, I always cum. It's easier if I know my woman has cum too. It's great when we cum together."

"I think David Cameron wouldn't care if his wife SamCam came," said Book Boy. Book Boy is intelligent, he has a masters degree in politics and likes to talk about intelligent things.

"Yes," said Kissy Boy after a thought, "I don't think Conservative Party leader David Cameron would care if his wife came or not. Even Labour Leader Gordon Brown would make sure that Sarah Brown came."

We all agreed that David Cameron would only care about his own orgasm and would drift off to sleep soon afterwards, and if SamCam whimpered or asked what about her he'd slime :"at least I came."

Kissy Boy is Sensitive and He'd Like To Stay That Way

Today I had a whiff of what Kissy Boy does to earn his sex man status in the call centre. He started a conversation today about making women cum. He said that all men care about making women cum and that it's just a myth that men role over and go to sleep after they've cum.

The Great Office Love Triangle

I ended up talking to Little My at lunch today, because I'd nothing better to say I asked if her and Rap Superstar hit it off on Friday night.

She said that they had but that that was old news. He wanted a good time but she was after mister right now. She looked all confused after she'd said it, like she'd missed a joke, so she repeated it with swear words but still didn't get where the joke should be.

Anyway, she fancied Kissy Boy now, like all the office girls.

I asked her who Kissy Boy was?

She said he was the office hunk.

What about me? I thought. Surely no one called Kissy Boy can be hotter than me.

She pointed Kissy Boy out to me later. He was posing around the office all bleached teeth and steroid arms hanging out of his Ironic T-Shirt. I told Little My that Kissy Boy used steroids so his dick wouldn't work. She said I was just jealous. I suppose she had a point, and I couldn't believe that I was trying to get Little My to like me over Kissy Boy, when the truth was that if she did I'd probably tell her a big list of why she should go back to fancying Kissy Boy.

I've been too busy trying to get to grips with my job I haven't taken the time to look round for a Mrs. Tuesday Kid.

There's bound to be one.

I will find her, no matter what occurs.

First Day on the Floor

So today I was in bright and breezy at nine for my first day on the floor taking calls. It's such a sweat shop. We were threw down to answering calls and having fuckers rant at us fullscale from the word hello, actually we've this pish script to recite at the start of the call, it's not as bad as what dicks at McDonalds have to say but it's not as accurate as "If you're going to be a dick to me, fuck off," which I'm gonna say if this keeps up.

People came round and every so often asked if we were doing alright but when we said no they didn't really do much.

I was called off to the side by my manager for telling a woman that I only just started working here and had never spoken to her before because she was sitting going, "you did _____" and "you did _____" and then later I was called again for telling a customer to stop spitting (I thought this was funny but the manager didn't).

Not much of a start, but a start at least (or most).

Windy Day Sexy Fais

I stood in some glass this morning. I was pure raging I thought about that Bruce Lee movie where he makes the baddies eat paper and warns them that next time they act like muthafuckers he'll make them eat glass.

Still at least Battle Cat didn't stand in it. The wee bit of glass is stuck in my foot and I've tried wiggling it and putting it in a bucket of warm water but nothing.

Then I sat down for a good cry and watched the rubgy, did you see O'Driscoll's try at the end, good on you mutherfucker, class only wish we'd won instead of drawn.

Sat making a doll of My Protege so I could teach Battle Cat to attack him but I can't draw for shit and it ended up looking like Prince Harry, and Battle Cat would bite him anyway.

Broken Windows will Earn Someone a Broken Mouth

Sitting down watching Harry Hills TV Burp getting ready to support the Jedward Boys (by the way Derek Accorah is a funky dancer, who knew?) when a brick comes flying through the window. Luckily it missed Battle Cat, me and the TV. I jumped up and ran out. I knew who it was My Protege the wee bastard. What a wee fucker?

Like all bastard kids they were far away before I was even out the door, I just heard the wee fuckers cackling at the end of the street. It's a sad fucking day when some wee bastards want to bust your windows for wearing clothes.

I'm gonna get my protege and stick my foot so far up his arse my leg will disolve in his guts.

Come on Jedward.

Going Drinking With Office Peeps

So we had our last day of training today and Monday we're out on the floor robbing folk.

Not looking forward to it, especially since we have all these targets to get to for how long we spend on a call and how much we fleece people in doing so.

I'm sure I'll be balling my eyes out at some wee old lady who buys our guff over tins of cat food for her wee bald cat.

We all went out for drinks after the training, or we were supposed to, but half an hour in and one pint down we were down to just me, Rap Superstar and Little My.

Rap Superstar said that we were the three musketeers and started rapping about killing the King of France with an amazing dance.

It was embarrassing as fuck and people in the pub started sniggering and pointing. I felt so small.

He went to the toilet for a big pish and Little My (who hadn't noticed the responses) started talking about how Rap Superstar was so talented with all his rapping.

I said I thought raping would be more his sort of thing.

She didn't hear me and I caught myself on in time to not repeat it. I just downed my pint and said that I'd leave the two of them to get to know each other a bit better, I tried to give a knowing wink but I think it came off a bit sleazy. Little My gave a shy giggle and I felt a wee bit sorry for her. I hope they're hitting it off now.

Nanny Boo Boo and Me have a Talk

Nanny Boo Boo asked me to call down to hers after work today. She had a cup of tea and nice buns all laid out when I came in.

She said that My Protege had been round balling his wee eyes out about how I was a big puff and sitting in front of the TV drunk in women's clothes and she hit him a clash round the face and told him to mind his own fucking business.

I knew Nanny Boo Boo would be cool about it even though some older fuckers can be right squares about that sort of thing. She said whatever I did was cool and that it was my own business and she could get me some nice tasty stuff or even kinky negligees out of her club book if I fancied it. I said thanks but I thought that might become awkward if I couldn't keep up the payments.

She said that My Protege was a wee wanker but that's just because of the age of him and she hasn't forgotten about what he did to the cats arses with bangers and she told him that if it wasn't for me My Protege would be selling his arse on the streets for freedbased cocaine and soda pop, and no one would touch the spotty wee bastard. She told him so, but she said that if he came around to my tranny ways then he'd be a successful man when he grows up.

This made me happy. Then she asked me if I'd a girl name for when I wore my clothes. I said Lily but this is balls. I don't go in for that shit. I'm just a man in tight spandex.

Busted in Drag

So there I was downing a full bottle of whiskey, wearing the oul drag and watching X-Factor on Saturday night, when I looks out the window and sees My Protege and one of his wee wanker mates standing outside.

My Protege had a face like beetroot (he's a big beetroot head at him but anyway) and his mate was pishing himself and shouting "he's so gay!"

"Here you wee bastard, come on in and my dog will eat you for saying that."

"I'm not going into your house, you're gay!" he shouted.

I opened the front door and walked out all Get Carter and said:

"Battle Cat eat this wee wanker."

Battle Cat ran out woofing and the wee fucker ran off. In truth Battle Cat would have just licked him but he wasn't to know and didn't stick around to find out.

"He's right," shouted My Protege "you're a fruit," and he ran off crying.

Fuck him. I just find it comfy.

Fuck Work It's The Weekend

That's it for another shite week, after next I'm in the call centre proper, so fuck that. I'm going to get pished with the last penny I have and after that I'll be thieving until the wage packet come in. Yeow!

Getting To Know My Cellmates

Now Hoors Bastard is gone I've been able to start getting to know the rest of the group.

It isn't pretty.

While they're are no Hoors Bastards they mostly seem to have problems of their own.

Only today Little My was sitting talking about how at night she also works in an off-licence. She said this like it was something to be proud of, working all the time. I was close to telling her I spent the past year sitting on my hole smoking crack but I didn't want to be the new Hoors Bastard so I just nodded and said: "that's nice."

That's starting to be my new catchphrase, there's another guy who works there and he says he's the baddest rapper in the game, he started spitting out all this shit about shooting people and rolling up the Ardone with the crips. He keeps trying to talk in rhyme. Little My thinks he's a genius. He thinks she looks like a gnome. It'll all end in tears, hopefully both of theirs.

Bye Bye Hoors Bastard and Fuck You to the Dole

Hoors Bastard started a conversation with me about music. I told him that I liked hip hop and R and B and he started all this shite about how I must be gay because Techno was the only thing that real men listened to.

I told him that he was sum craic and he had a big happy grin pasted all over his wobbly fat face all day, right up until our trainer told him he'd balled up his last test and he was out of the game.

He sat in the reception crying and told the trainer he'd get his da to come up and slap him on the bake. I'm glad to see the back of the fucker. Him and his sum craic and his happy hardcore collection. He'll need it now he's back on the dole queue. Speaking of which I went down there and asked for my £300. You see if you're on the dole for 6 months and then you get a job they'll give you £100 and the housing will give you £200 until you get your first wage. It's really a year but they're sneaky bastards about this. Anyway I had my dole cut off for two days a few months ago (long story) and because of this they say I haven't been receiving it for a whole year. Fucking bastards the lot of them. I hope Hoors Bastard turns their heads with his craic from now until they drop dead of being bastards.

Call Centres Make Me Want To Smoke Crack

November is a miserable month, I'm all trying to keep things street and at work we're being told how to fleece people. See in all the contracts there's these wee clauses (not my work one, the ones that customers sign up to) and they say that customers aren't allowed money back if they don't want our products anymore but in court they could get it back (that was a struggle). This is bullshit, we're supposed to sit and say "read the small print (and weep)" and why should we, it's not as if we get any richer by ripping them off, I'm on a fixed hourly rate that will increase every year slightly below inflation.

I didn't know half this shit until some dude in the training started spouting it out. He wasn't there by the end of the day. I wish it had of been the fat hoors bastard because he's just caught on that one of the other guys is gay and he's started making all these really bad gay jokes and when no one laughs he says "What are yous like, I'm just being some craic!" Dunno about craic, I'd prefer a bit of crack after the money comes in.

Then when someone else says something properly funny he just sits with a big grumpy face and tries to outdo them with a big sweary gay joke, whoors bastard that he is.

Work is Hard Work

Sorry I haven't been around for a few weeks. My new job has been taking up a lot of my time (it and Mafia Wars).

The new job is not much to write home about (or write here about). I'm stuck in a training group of boring bastards. One fat fucker walked in on the first day and said: "Has anyone here got the last name Campbell?" this wee guy says "Aye, me," then the first tool says: "Yeow! Soupy." What a whoors bastard. It's enough to make me want to start smoking crack again.

I haven't had time to see anyone and I've been too pissed off to write this up. Was getting a job the right decision?

It gets worse, because I started after a certain date (not saying which one because I don't want anyone at work knowing I write slabbery things about them online) I won't get paid until the end of next month. Fuck that. It seems I'm going to have to go on the rob or die!

My Year

So I started this blog just after my birthday last year and what a year it's been. I've been sitting back taking stock of everything that's happened.

I started it because I was always going round in circles and getting into the same old crap.

I can say though that in this past year I've given up crack, started looking after a pet, joined and been kicked out of a sweaty heavy metal vomit rock and roll band and met a tonne of new people, some of which are good friends. Not just that but if you look down my side bar you'll see a load of other cool people you should check out.

That said here's a few wee stats about my year.

I've had 3 housemates - Fabian Wildman, Battle Cat and Hot Baby Roy (briefly)
I was going to count the number of fights I was in but I couldn't be arsed, you just need to know I won them all.
I've had sex a few times (not enough) and still have no girlfriend.
I started wearing leotards
I met someone who thinks that unicorns are an extinct species
I've been asked to watch Wild Child 143 times and said no 142.
I vomited in a woman's mouth (and she vomited in mine)
I saved a few people from unjustly getting their balls kicked.
I forged a member of Razorlight's autograph (to stop someone going to the police)
I cried a bit but I laughed a lot
I sniffed a few felt tips
I shoplifted loads
and I may or may not have licked the bowl (some people may wonder though).

I've not had a job but as of yesterday I have now found one and I start my pish call centre training on Monday. Wish me luck!

A nice Suprise

Yesterday started off really pish. I went and bought more booze and went down to Tomb St Carpark where all the Emo kids hang out but it was too pish for them to be out so
I sat by myself listening to cars passing overhead. Then I took a walk out Corporation Square and watched the boats leave. Lucky bastards. Someday maybe me.

Then I walked home pished and pissed off. I stopped in at an internet cafe and tried to look up porn but the guy behind the counter kept staring at my screen so I could only see parts of a naked lady as I had to shrink the window and scroll.

I still haven't heard back about my job.

When I got home I found my key wouldn't work in the lock, some wee bastard probably tried to pick it. I hoped I'd get in round the back, that or maybe one of the neighbours would let me kip over at theirs.

Battle Cat ran to the back gate when I jumped over it and jumped up on me and started licking me.

"Hello pup, at least you're glad to see me," I said. He woofed in agreement.

The backdoor was easily opened but I'd no sooner got inside than the lights went on and everyone shouted "surprise!"

There was Nanny BooBoo, Hot Baby Roy, My Brothers (apart from the hot shot banker),My Protege The Sweaty Metallers, The Banshee, The Indie Kid, even Rock and Roll Stephen (who invited him?), Good King Thumpo (this could be trouble), and two girls I didn't know (my new neighbours).

I didn't have a chance to say anything before they launched into a big chorus of Happy Birthday. This was rock and roll at it's best.

After everything I didn't know what to say, I was a bit overwhelmed because I hadn't mentioned it to anyone and I hadn't planned on celebrating it.

Battle Cat saved me by coming padding in wagging his tail. He's grown so much in the past year.

"Right let's get some cake in you," said Nanny BooBoo. Then the party took off Rock and Roll style with everyone coming up to me and giving me presents and pats on the back.

Nanny BooBoo gave me a leather jacket (because in her day that's what cool dudes wore), Hot Baby Roy gave me a DVD of Wild Child ("no excuses for not watching it now," he said). The Indie Kid gave me a piece of paper that said No Hard Feelings signed Johnny Borrell, My Protege gave me some cans of spray paint which I'm sure he's stolen but he was talking about how we can do some cool graffiti together, my Metaller brother gave me a Phil Collins CD which actually had a Metallica one inside it and a post it saying - this is real Heavy Metal. Then there were all the typical bottles of assorted booze that we were going to get pished on throughout the evening.

The party was in full swing and I was having a great time running round everyone blabbing shite. My metaller brother was having a great time talking to the sweaty metallers who seemed to be getting on again (there was talk of them starting another band). I said thanks to Nanny BooBoo because I knew that it could only be her who organised it. She said that it was nothing I was always doing things to help out other people, so she thought it was time someone did something nice for me.

After a while the booze started to run low so I popped out to get some more. It was pretty late and the off-licence near me was closing. It (like a lot of fucking shops in Belfast) always closes about ten minutes before it's supposed to.

There knocking on the door was Hooka, she looked so different, she'd none of the goth witch look about her anymore, all blonde hair and pink flourescent tights.

"Hey Hooka, how've you been?" I said.
"Who are you?" she said.
"It's me, Tuesday Kid."
"Oh," she said. Then went back to knocking the door.

We weren't getting booze there. I walked off to a place I know sells it after hours (can't say where, I'd feel shit if it got busted because of me). Seeing Hooka was fucking strange.

Not as strange though as turning the next corner and seeing Fabian Wildman leaning on the gate post at the edge of someone's garden. He leaned over and boked all over the footpath.

"Tuesday Kid," he said seeing me. "You better not stick around, Mother of Bowling Ball's inside. if he comes out it'll be bad."

"Fuck him, why aren't you at my party? Why haven't you been round?"

"I've been busy with other things he said. Sandcastles came out. She took one look at me, then gave Fabian a kiss and went back inside.

"So you're not with Betty Blue anymore?" I asked.

"No, it's me and Sandcastles now, we're heading for the goal line," he said. I don't think he meant it. He'd a hole in his shoes and his clothes looked pretty dirty. He's going back into one of his phases where he sits around doing fuck all but getting wasted. I can't see her sticking with him then.

"You're a bastard, after all I did to help you out and you just shrug and fuck off with your dick head mates."

"Things are taking shape for me," he said. "You're going through some things, you need to sort them out for yourself."

"I gave you a place to live, I lied to the cops for you."

He pulled some face like this was no big deal. I wasn't to me but I could just as easily have let them arrest him.

I wanted to hit him but Mother of Bowling Ball came running out.

"So, you're Tuesday Kid? Let's see you act tough now," he said.

I dropped him with one punch.

"Fuck you," I said to Fabian Wildman, then I fucked off up the road. I even forgot to get the booze, I just went back to mine.

It was strange seeing him and Hooka. In a way I'd no bad feelings towards her. She looked like she's sorted herself out a bit, I always got the impression that she wasn't so happy with being a witch, Fabian though just looked like he was bumming from one lot to the next working out how he can get wasted and fuck about.

I went back to mine and found my party was getting a bit of a shambles too.

The Sweaty Metallers were squaring up and my metaller brother was getting in the middle telling them to take it easy. Rock and Roll Stephen was shaking with fear close to tears and a big wet patch on his tight jeans as the pish flowed down his leg. Good King Thumpo had him backed into a corner and was getting ready to hit him.

Nanny BooBoo was trying to stop The Indie Kid and My Protege from fighting with blunt butter knives. What had went wrong?

"Friends," I said jumping up on the table. "If you really are my friends then listen to me. All I want you to do for me is one thing - be cool!"

"I told you he was fucking deep," said My Protege. Everyone nodded. Then this started playing.



Hot Baby Roy (who put the song on) lined us all up and got his camera out. He told us to look at it and shout "Who are we?"

A deep question indeed. Some people maybe look to me for the answer. I just realised it's not important to answer it.

Another Job Interview

My day with my protege really helped me yesterday.

I realised that I had to accept who I was and if other people had a problem with it screw them. What's important is that I'm okay with being me.

I thought about this all the way to my interview and I thought that when they asked me what I'd done I'd just say:

"Listen, I used to smoke crack, but now I don't. If any of you have a problem with that then you deal with it. I'm just setting out on my journey and I'm gonna screw up from time to time. If you don't like it then I'll screw your ma, wife and any legal age female offspring you might have."

I felt great. I felt okay being me.

In the interview when they asked me that question it was like a wake up call. That answer would get me nowhere.

"I've been travelling in foreign countries, very far away. There's no way they'd answer the phone to you."

They asked me where and I just rhymed off a load of names I wasn't sure if they were places I'd made up or places from films.

They looked pleased. Maybe I gave them a good laugh. They'd better give me the job. If they were just laughing at me they're getting broken windows and a fucked family.

My Protege Teaches Me

I took the Death Owl's money and went and bought a bottle of wine and sat down at the Lagan Lookout at Stranmillis.

I couldn't believe I was here on my own, with no job and pish all money. How the fuck had this happened?

How had I not found a job? or why wasn't I living somewhere nice? Or had a girlfriend? Cunts like the Death Owl seemed to be winning why I was a busted loser.

My protege came and found me. He told me he wanted a new lesson.

I asked him what could I teach him? In truth I'm a terrible teacher, and that's usually okay for my terrible students (he's not the first I've given knowledge to) but it wasn't okay for him.

He told me he thought I was badass and that he could learn how to be cool from my coolness and he knows that I've made mistakes and that's cool because he wants to learn from them too.

"Okay," I said. "Here's your last lesson: do as I say, not as I do," then I boked all over myself and burst into tears.

He gave me a hug and told me I was a great role model because I taught him that it was okay to cry if you were a badass.

A big snotter came out my nose. He didn't mention that.

Old Enemies Really Do Run Belfast

Yesterday I went for a job interview. It was a shitty call centre one. I was sitting in the reception all prepared to lie about my experience and intentions when I was called into a room with non other than The Death Owl and Mr Ponti. Except Mr Ponti wasn't really called Mr. Ponti, he was called Boris something or other.

They had big smug bastard grins written all over their faces when I sat down in front of them.

"So, if it isn't crack headed Tuesday Kid?" The Death Owl smirked. "Want a job do you?"
"That's right," I said trying to brush off the fact that I was sitting in front of two complete wankers that I'd hoped I'd never see again.
"We don't employ crack heads. Our business is serious. However..." the Death Owl said.
I sat waiting for him to finish.
"How is your dog?" said Mr Ponti.
"That's none of your busines," I replied.
"That's not very friendly," said the Death Owl. "Especially since you're wanting us to give you a job."
"Are you going to give me one?" I asked.
"I'll give you something else," said the Death Owl bringing out his majik wand.
He was about to zap me before I took off my shoe and threw it at him, snapping the wand into shite.

Mr. Ponti dived over the desk at me but I uppercutted him, knocking him clean out cold.

The Death Owl started dancing around the room.

"You're so dead," he said, "I'm a yellow belt in Karate now."

He pulled off some fancy Chuck Norris roundhouse but it missed me by miles. I pinned him up against the wall.

"I'll scream for help," he said.

"Do it," I shrugged. "They won't get here before I twist your balls."

He fainted right away. I spat a big drooly spittle all over his face.

Then I stole money from both their wallets. A result of sorts. Though not the one I was hoping for.

Pete Doherty Plays Belfast!!

The Indie Kid across the street threw a party last night. A kind of 'let's get the parties started' thing but later he told me (when totally pished and close to tears) that it had all been about getting some of the fine pussy across the street. She didn't show up but there was a motley cast of indie rock and rollers from around Belfast.

Rock and Roll Stephen was there, meaning business, wearing the tightest pair of women's jeans and the tightest perm and his mothers handbag. He'd a wee silver case full of rollies.

I told him he looked like he meant business and he said: "From now on things are going to be full on, with relationships and studying."

I winced and told him that I once met Johnny Borrell in Donaghadee (a lie but the Indie Kid will back me up because he thinks it's true).

For some reason Sexy Carlos was there and he was walking around bare chested with the words "Who do I trust? I trust me!" scrawled across his chest in red lipstick. A thing Rock and Roll Stephen told me he'd stolen from the Manic Street Preachers, I thought it was Scarface.

I got talking to this girl at the punch bowl who told me that she was going to comit suicide when she turned twenty one. I asked her what age she was and she said nineteen. I told her that she should extend it to twenty five because after school and uni there's a lot of fun to be had lying around on the dole playing computer games and smoking crack (if that's your thing, it's not mine any more).

She told me that what I'd just said was profound. I smiled like a dog who's just realised it can lick it's own balls. I pretty much talked to her the rest of the night giving out half-wisdoms which she pretty much lapped up like a cat who'd been left out a bowl of milk by people who aren't it's owners.

Rock and Roll Stephen nearly spoiled it by bringing out a guitar and shouting:

"Who says Pete Doherty can't come to Belfast. Rock and Roll Stephen brings Pete Doherty right here!"

Then he started playing some Pete Doherty but no one really listened. I was glad when he fucked off home in tears.

New Neighbours?

The wee Indie Fan across the street is back now for uni. I hadn't realised he'd gone until I passed him on the street and he asked me all the gossip over the summer. Turns out he knew as much as I did. (I think he might read this blog). He asked why the sweaty metallers moved out.

I told him it was lady trouble.

He laughed and said: "Was it over yer doll that sang for them? You'd tap her alright, she wasn't there because of her voice that's for sure."

Then he did some weird oos and aas that sounded like her only more in tune.

Then he said that a fitter doll had moved in in her place. He saw her this moring going out for a jog.

"Lovely thing," he kept saying.

I think he might have got his hole for the first time over the summer because now he's talking like he's Crocket and Tubbs rolled into one big cherry tying ball of spunk.

"Is there a guy there too?" I asked.

"Not that I've seen," he said. "If there is he won't be too hard to see off."

Yes he's had his hole. Lucky boy. I just hope he doesn't get his legs broke by the new girl's man (if she has one, if she hasn't it might be me doing the leg breaking).

Late Night Drunken Phonecall to Spitboke

I was all drinking on my own tonight and I felt lonely so I called Spitboke. Here's the conversation or thereabouts (she's in italics):

"Hey,"

"Hey yourself, who's this?"

"This is Tuesday Kid? Is this Spitboke?"

"Yes, who are you, how did you get my number?"

"You gave it to me the other morning after we had hot sex together. Don't you remember?"

"Is this Stephen again?"

"No, who's Stephen?"

"Are you one of his asshole friends? If you are my dad knows someone who will throw you out of a window."

"No, I just want to ask you out for a hot date."

"How do I know you?"

"I pulled you in Laverys. I was with the big guy who was covered in tattoos. The one who was calling all the other guys gay."

"Sorry still don't know you and I think homophobia is so lame. I've kissed girls before and I'm cool about stuff like that."

"Me too, I've kissed loads of girls."

(Here she did one of those asshole fake laughs to say she didn't find it funny)

"So do you want to go on a date or not?"

"I still don't know you."

"Remember I had a dog and you boked on my bed?"

"Up yours creepo I don't do stuff like that. I'm from the Malone Rd."

"Come on, let's meet next Tuesday and go to Cheapo Tuesdays at the Dublin Road Cinema? I'll let you pick the movie. And then we can go back to mine for other stuff."

"This is one of Stephen's friends! My dad will like totally fuck you up and stuff. And he'll make your parent's lose their jobs."

"I'm not Stephen, listen I thought we had a cool time together, not just the sex. I want to talk more to you. I've even shoplifted a bottle of Avril Lavigne's new perfume for you. I know that's what all you wee metal girls love."

"Fuck you, Avril Lavigne isn't heavy metal, she's punk rock."

"No she has some heavy metal stuff too. Listen do you want to date me or not?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Come on, what have you got to lose?"

"My Kidneys on the black market asshole. Up yours."

Then she hung up.

This isn't fair. I was really nice to her the other morning. I didn't even charge her for a new duvet. I'm going to write her number all over Belfast in the perviest toilets I can find. And if I do run into her da, he'll find out how those people he fucked up feel.

Tuesday Kid the Teacher - Another Lesson

The post brought me two letters, both interviews for jobs I've applied for. Both call centre shit but I can do the training and fuck off before I have to start the post.

My protege was waiting for me in Stranmillis today. I was glad to see him because I was eager to undo any damage meeting Hot Baby Roy might have done. I shouldn't have been worried.

"That guy was a wanker," my Protege said.

"He can be okay," I said, "try not to become like him."

"I won't I've got you teaching me how to be the coolest," he said (thereabouts). "Last night I was getting pished with my mates and we kicked fuck out of someone. Just some dick who was walking around minding his own business."

I hit him a boot up the hole.

"What the fuck was that for?" he said.

I dug him in the guts.

"There, you don't like getting beat up for fuck all," I said. "Neither did he, that's today's lesson."

"We gave him a worse kicking than that," he said.

Then I put him in a head lock and gave him a duck egg. He ran away crying.

Tuesday Kid Brings Knowledge to the Streets

After the other day I decided it's time I took more interest into my Protege. I don't want him to become another version of me. I want him to be better.

I went down Stranmillis to find him and ran into Hot Baby Roy.

"This is a bit out of your stomping ground," I said.

"Not at all," said Hot Baby Roy. "The joggers, the fine athletic wear on the nice women here."

I told him that someone would twist his balls if they caught him perving. He snorted and said that he could take care of himself.

I told him that the joggers didn't take too kindly to being leered at.

Then my protege came along and said that he needed another lesson.

Hot Baby Roy said. "Tell girls a fake name, but one that sounds similar to your real name, so you can say they misheard if you like them."

"Hot Baby Roy stop corrupting him. I'm teaching him knowledge to get him off the streets."

Hot Baby Roy looked all shocked.

"Tell him how to get his hole and he'll be fine, he'll work out the rest if he needs to," he said.

Then he went off to perv at jogger ladies.

I turned to my protege and said, "if you ever find yourself in the company of ginger people, make your excuses and run before they learn your name."

Tuesday Kid The Teacher - Lesson Number 3

After Spitboke stopped crying she left. She did give me her number and I think I'm going to call her but I don't hold out much hope for it. It's probably the flirt divert. I used to phone it sometimes when I was bored and leave sappy messages that bordered on unhinged, in the hope of getting on the radio but then I got paranoid that the cops would be tracking my number so I changed it. This better not happen again.

I went for a walk down to Stranmillis because I think it's time I had it out with my protege. What can he possibly learn from me other than not to do the things I've done?

I eventually found him with some of his mates. He said they were going to go and smash some windows. Then it hit me. He was about to make all the mistakes I've already made.

I told him that smashing windows was fun but that someday he'll smash the wrong windows and get his legs broke. He said it was okay because they only broke old people's windows. I hit him a clash in the face and told him that I'd a friend who was old that lived in Stranmillis and if he smashed her windows he'd get his legs broke by me.

"You see, I said to him, lesson number three: You can't judge people by who you think they are. E.g just because someone is old doesn't mean there isn't a hard bastard brimming with thug passion standing behind them with a baseball bat."

One of his spidey mates said: "Tuesday Kid's got knowledge."

I was so proud. I felt like Furious in Boyz in the Hood.

We Like The Cars The Cars That Go Boom

The metaller girl was up by the time I got up this morning. She looked frightened. I asked her what the matter was. She said that she'd boked in her sleep and it was all over the bed and she was scared that I'd be angry. I took a look at it and it wasn't all my spitboke.

I laughed and said that I'd be putting the sheets in the wash later and it was no bother. She still looked really worried.

I asked her if she wanted some breakfast. She said yes. I went down to see what was in the cupboard there was fuck all so I told her I was off to the shop. I went and got some great breakfast stuff.

When I got back from the shop Battle Cat had really worked his puppy magic and she'd made friends with him.

I wanted to ask her how come her and her mate like to hang out with guys like Good King Thumpo but I didn't want to turn this into an interogation.

She asked if I played football. I told her no and she burst into tears.

I didn't understand why, that's not the first time that's happened to me.

How to pull Metaller Girls

I went out with Good King Thumpo tonight because I was trying to get to the bottom of how he pulls. I can't stand it anymore. So I went and found the greasy tattooed bastard hassling the Alternative Ulster staff in Charlie's Coffee Shop.

I told him I wanted to go for beers and pool. I meant pull but he's a thick bastard and doesn't know better.

He lost two games to six. I told him that he'd have more luck trying to miss. He said he'd see about luck when it came to getting sex with girls tonight.

Anyway at about ten we went off and tried to meet hot metal ladies. It was horrible. Rock and Roll Stephen was there. He told us that his mother caught him trying to use her curlers and kicked his shite in. His dad then kicked him out because he was ashamed that Rock and Roll Stephen couldn't even beat up a woman.

Rock and Roll Stephen went to the bar and Good King Thumpo's first question was: "Is he gay?" I said no but Good King Thumpo spat out when I said this.

I stood and waited to talk to sexy metal girls but all Good King Thumpo did was shout "Yeow! Look at your tits!" when they walked past.

I thought this is bollocks but then a few of them came up smiling and all Good King Thumpo had to do was say "He looks so gay!" when some skinny jeaned prick walked past. I couldn't believe they liked this but they smiled and swooned. Good King Thumpo was loving it. I thought the girls were dumb for acting like this but I played along and said it myself a few times. Particularly at Rock and Roll Stephen who visably winced. Fuck him I'd a heavy metal girl home with me to fuck. Yeow!

I took her back to mine for Tuesday Kid love but after that she went to sleep. She told me she wanted to be in IN Magazine one day but I didn't really listen. She went to sleep and I spat on her. Not exactly true love eh?

Nanny Boo Boo meets My Fruitarian Brother

Nanny Boo Boo called round today. She said she hadn't seen me properly since she'd got back and she told me how cool it was in London she went on the London Eye and it makes the one at city hall look like a ferris wheel. I was glad she'd had a good time there.

She asked me who did the suspicious DVDs belong to. I told her about Hot Baby Roy and his concussion.

"Is this a new project of yours?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're always taking in these strays, they don't thank you for it, except for this one." " she said winking at Battle Cat, who thumped his tail off the floor and woofed.

I asked her if she'd seen Fabian Wildman. She said he called round once but he was strange. He seemed a bit through other. She thinks he's a bit up his arse these days. She gave him some madera cake and he didn't touch it or his cup of tea.

My fruitarian brother called round and things were very strained. Nanny Boo Boo was very polite and he sat their looking like the wanted to talk about something with me.

I knew things would erupt if I left the room but I needed a pish so badly I didn't sit more than five minutes with the two of them. I hadn't finished in the bogs when I could hear them arguing from the top of the stairs. Nanny Boo Boo was saying that they were bastards for holding an intervention for me when I'd been sorting myself out for ages. The Fruitarian was trying to defend himself saying he'd just went along with it rather than planned it but Nanny Boo Boo wasn't buying any of it, she told him that he should call round more on social visits and not just when he has something he needs sorting out. Like running round getting frostbite on his hairy arse sitting under pear trees. Oh yes, she new all about it and him boking in a wee kids hair and nearly getting me into a fight.

When I came down the Fruitarian said he had somewhere he had to be and went with a big red face on him.

Good King Thumpo Can Get a Shag?

Hot Baby Roy went home yesterday. He took Wild Child with him still unwatched. I think it's his favourite film. He left the others lying scattered on the floor. I came downstairs to find Battle Cat chewing the S Club 7 box. I took it from him and he barked angrily. I'd forgotten he was in the room when Hot Baby Roy stuck it on.

"Don't give me any of your cheek wee lad," I said to him and he wandered off into the kitchen.

I went for a day on the rob because I was pissed off at being skint. There's no fucking jobs anywhere. I applied for an admin one the other day and haven't heard fuck all back. I ran into Good King Thumpo who was bragging about some doll he pulled in Laverys the other night, "a wee rocker chick," he kept saying. He was nearly crying he was that happy.

"I love heavy head girls, pure leathal! Unless their into that voodoo shite, I went out with a doll who was and she was a fucking head wrecker. I love the oul heavy stuff though, see when you come home at night with your head roared, Megadeth! Fucking Megadeth! Tell the neighbours to fuck aff it's time for Megadeth!"

Then he did some air guitar and talked about how Dave Mustane was a big ginger bastard. Then I remembered that the voodoo chick he was talking about was Hooka.

I imagined them slam dancing to Megadeth and felt a tear run down my cheek. How can Good King Thumpo get lucky? He's fucking covered in tattoos. It's a good tactic though it detracts from him going bald.

Hot Baby Roy Has Brought His Video Collection To Stay

Hot Baby Roy is still here. And if it wasn't that I liked the company I'd kick him out. He has so far brought round 10 Things I Hate About You (which I enjoyed - Heath Ledger RIP), She's All That (which sucked), Slap Her She's French (which I slept through), S Club 7 Seeing Double (which I told him he could watch on his own) and Wild Child (which I still have to watch).

He's been very nice to Battle Cat (which is a smart way to get in my good books) though he's made a few mistakes (he tried to share a chocolate orange with him).

His concussion seems to be clearing up, as much as someone like Hot Baby Roy can be clear. He sleeps in Fabian Wildman's old room and has gone home a few times to get clean underwear and clothes. He's had showers but he doesn't use soap. He says water is enough and it leaves the sexy smell for the ladies.

I asked him what if he had eaten onions or garlic, that stuff comes out your pours.

He said he didn't eat these foods and that he makes sure he has at least one aphrodisiac a day. This includes a portion of Pumpkin Seeds, Oysters (which he can never find nor afford), Chocolate, Strawberries or Lemonade.

I didn't ask him how come he never pulls. Here we fucking go.

Hot Baby Roy Stays In London and Searches in Time for Jack The Ripper

I let Hot Baby Roy stay over because the doctor said he was concussed. This meant he needed someone to watch him and make sure he didn't die. So I sat up and woke him after every couple of hours. This was bad because he said that he couldn't go to sleep without a wank and I told him he wasn't allowed to wank in the house. The next day I woke up to find he'd made me a big ulster fry to say thanks and bought Battle Cat some Pedigree Chum (which even though it's expensive it gives him the runs).

Hot Baby Roy seems to have changed his tune a bit. He was telling me that he was away in London for a week visiting his sister. He said that he spent a lot of time down in shoreditch because he'd read a book about there being prostitutes there and William Burroughs was a time traveller and he was the real Jack the Ripper.

I asked him if he managed to fuck any prostitutes. I was only joking but he took thick and said that he romanced them and bought them flowers and read poetry to them. Then he fucked them.

Then he said that as a big thank you he was going to go and get Wild Child and we'd watch it tonight!

I didn't want to upset him because he looked a sorry state with his big swollen face and his ginger hair with streaks of blood through it. When he tried to smile I felt sorry for him and thought he looked like he didn't deserve his beating, even though he probably did.

Hot Baby Roy Gets Dug

Last night was spent in casualty at the City Hospital. Hot Baby Roy called round looking like someone had kicked his fuck in. I was a bit pissed off because I haven't seen him in a while. I almost told him to go fuck but when I had a good look at him I felt sorry for him. He'd a big fuck off black eye and a real sorry for himself look on his face. There was blood pissing out of his nose and he couldn't straighten his arm properly.

I put my coat on and took him to casualty. The taxi driver was a right dick. He almost didn't let Hot Baby Roy in because he was bleeding. I told him if he got any on the seats I'd pay for the cleaning (but I'd no intention of doing this).

Once at casualty there was a sign up saying said we'd only have a few hours to wait. This wasn't so bad because there was a newspaper with sudoku on it which I sat and worked with while Hot Baby Roy babbled on about what he'd been up to.

He started talking about how he'd seen Mother of Bowling Ball and asked him not to hurt me.

I asked him was that what happened him. He said no and that he'd been giving his sex man speech to some totally hot babes in Lavery's when he got his balls kicked up and out through his mouth (this is a metaphor apparently) by their baddie boyfriends.

"I wish they'd let me fight them one at a time," he kept saying. Or shouting, he was getting really emotional and I had to make menacing eye contact with some other sick people.

We eventually got called after 8 hours and stuck in a wee shit cubicle for another hour. We were so bored when we were in there we started looking round for things to steal. Hot Baby Roy found some incontinence nappies and said he'd love to get some wee Methody doll in one.

I couldn't find anything to beat that so I sat and huffed. The cool doctor came in after a bit and gave Hot Baby Roy some stroke tests and wiggled his arm about. It was all a bit balls really. We got send home with instructions for Hot Baby Roy to come back if he starts projectile vomiting.

Poor Battle Cat Again

Battle Cat tried to bite the postman today. The postman was lucky there was a big door between them or Battle Cat would have had his balls. I hope he gets over Fabian Wildman soon, that or Fabian comes to visit. If only for the pup I'd let him in. I'm going through the house later and setting anything he's left behind on fire. That or forcing Battle Cat to piss on it.

Battle Cat is Lonely

I think Battle Cat is missing Fabian Wildman. He goes up into Fabian's old room and sits and whines sometimes. I think I might get a manikin and put some of Fabian's old clothes on it so he can think it's him (because of the scent). Fabian and him were good pals and they used to hang out especially when I could be a bit neglectful of him. Poor pup, now I know how single parents feel. Fabian's a bastard. The poor pup, maybe he needs a hot bitch to take his mind off things.

Goodbye to the Last of The Sweaty Metallers.

Derek Baby called round yesterday to tell me that him and the Banshee were leaving and wanted to know if I'd come to their wee shindig this evening.

I called round ready for sweaty heavy metal rock and roll vomit action but was faced with Derek Baby and The Banshee listening to We've Only Just Begun by The Carpenters. I was pissed off. I asked Derek Baby to get some Motorhead on so we could do some slam dancing.

He gave the Banshee a strange look and walked off to blow up some balloons. Then the party started to take off wild style. The wee indie fuck from across the street called over with his cool palls and they had some skinny jeaned action going on with their perms and flicks. One of them said he was going to teach the others the snap and flick and they all started doing this


(you have to watch about a minute in)

Anyways, once they started getting down some hot babes arrived. Among them was Sandcastles. I asked her how Fabian Wildman was doing and if he was coming tonight. She looked at me and opened her mouth like she was about to say something then walked off to talk to some indie dude.

It was ignorant as fuck. I think he knocked her back because she was sitting out on the street balling her eyes out at the end of the night (ha ha).

I tried to have a rock and roll cool time. Derek Baby came up and started talking about all the rock and roll wild times we had as a band but we didn't even play a gig. He said the hoped Peace Man or Johnny Davro would show up and give the party their approval. I told him I thought they were probably at home rubbing toothpaste into each others boxer shorts.

He said I should watch saying that sort of stuff because Peace Man and Johnny Davro were well liked and I could make a lot of enemies for myself. I said I didn't care. I thought they were ballbags and I've never heard anyone but him give a fuck about them. Everyone else just gets on with their shit and doesn't care.

He got pissed off at this and told me that he hopes Mother of Bowling Ball breaks my legs. I asked him if he knew all about the goat that was killed in his house last year.

He told me to leave. I told him that he was as metal as Richard Gere in a film (wooden in case you didn't get it - he didn't).

Lessons of Life No 2

Nanny Boo Boo gets back today so I went down yesterday with Battle Cat to make sure the place is nice and tidy and none of the flowers were dead (they weren't - I did a good job).

So I was well chuffed with myself and went on down the Lagan Meadows with Battle Cat. It was chilly and we hadn't got enough clothes on us (or I didn't, he walks around naked).

We were walking back up to Stranmillis when I found my protege writing "Fuck the police" on a bench.

I asked him was he ready for his second lesson.

He said yes.

I asked him if he'd learned the first.

He said the first was not to trust people.

I said no. The first lesson was that people won't do something for nothing. I'm teaching him about the lessons of life so I want paid for this.

I then asked him was he ready for lesson two.

He said yes again.

I told him if he finds two quid spend one on flowers and the other on food.

He looked confused. I was a bit too, it was something I read online a few days ago I don't really know what it means.

British and American Sign Language - Who Knew?

Yesterday I was so bored I tried to learn sign language. I went on some tutorials on youtube and learned the weather but I think it's crap when I meet people and they talk about the weather. It means they've fuck all really to talk about.

So I learned the first verse of Candle in the Wind (The Marilyn Monroe version, not Princess Diana). Then I realised it was in american sign language so I thought fuck that. Then I realised that I didn't know any deaf people so even if I did know sign language I'd still have no one to talk to.

Then I remembered that in Bratz one of them had a deaf friend and then I started to wonder why Hot Baby Roy hasn't called round and the times we hung out he must have been here looking for Fabian Wildman instead of me.

Then the door went.

It was some dick selling raffle tickets. I didn't buy one.

Crap Day in Belfast

Nanny Boo Boo´s house is much nicer than mine and I´m half tempted to stay there but I´ve drunk all the wine and there´s not much else in the fridge so I had to go back to mine today.

My house is a bit skanky and to tell you the truth if I was paying the money rather than the housing executive I´d move out.

I played some groovy spoons while I waited on the radiator to heat up. I think it´s pish that not only does Fabian Wildman not come round but Hot Baby Roy stays away too. I went down Lisburn Road looking for Good King Thumpo but he was nowhere to be seen. Apparently he hasn´t been seen for ages. I hope he´s in jail or lying at home with broken legs.

Then I bought a bottle of whiskey and walked up and down the Lisburn Road, Botanic Avenue, Ormeau Road and on out into the countryside hoping to see a friendly face but all I saw were phantoms...

I almost felt like buying some crack.

Poor Battle Cat

Me and Battle Cat were down the Lagan Meadows tonight and I'd a nice bottle of free wine with me. I was talking away to him about how Fabian Wildman was a bastard but I still didn't want Battle Cat to bite him because Fabian had been nice to him and Battle Cat wasn't to get all confused because Fabian wasn't around any more and me and him were still mates even if he never visited. Battle Cat stopped and had a boke and I had a poke through it to make sure he didn't have worms.

Then this cutesy wee lady dog came tottering over with her owner, a wee old man, Battle Cat and her were sniffing round each others bums and I could tell they liked each other's scents but then the oul man started making a scene all about how Battle Cat was a mongral and his dog was a pure breed. I told him this wasn't Hogwarts and he said this his dog was raised to mate with a pedegree because he was old and needed to pay for oil in the winter time and that Battle Cat was a mongral.

I told him that dogs had hearts and maybe he should let his dog enjoy Battle Cat's love because I could assure him that Battle Cat was well brought up and house trained and he pulled a face like a gurner and said he'd hit Battle Cat with a stick if he came sniffing round his dog again.

I told him that pedigree dogs were inbred and he probably was too. His dog would have a fun time getting in Battle Cat's gene pool.

He said something else but I cut in and said up his hole. He shook his fist and fucked off. Quick.

Looking after Nanny Boo Boo's Place

Today I thought it was about time I cheered up. So I went and got a lend of Mr Spoon's lawnmower. Not because I wanted to mow my lawn but because I wanted to huff the petrol out of it. Only the rotten old bastard never told me there wasn't any in it. So I just waited a few hours and gave it back to him (after breaking the blades) and telling him he'd broken blades and I couldn't use it.

He looked pissed off but then again so was I, so fuck him.

I took Battle Cat down for a walk to Nanny Boo Boo's because she's gone to stay with her nephew in London for the week and asked me to water her plants. I let myself in and found a big bowl of sausages and a note saying "help yourself to wine". I got pished on her wine and listened to her LPs. This one is fucking rocking, it reminds me of Jive Bunny:

Another Shite Day at the Dole

It's been a weird few days. It's been great sunny weather and I've been miserable as fuck. I ran out of money and had to go down the dole for a crisis loan. Nasty fuckers, say that they can't give you one unless it's an emergency so I told them that a water pipe had burst and spoiled all my food.

They asked for my landlord's number but I told them that I didn't have it on me and couldn't go home to get it. They eyed me up all suspicious. It was this fat wanker who wore a polo shirt and looked like he'd never played polo, or any sport other than "find the bags of crisps" which he's very good at, the fat crisp eating bastard.

Anyway he told me I had to wait an hour on the loan to be decided and I sat there feeling bored and pissed off. There weren't even any newspapers to read.

I looked on the job search machines and there was fuck all going. Most of the work on offer is part-time which is pish because you have to work sixteen hours a week and you come off worse than dole and housing benefit combined.

The place was bunged, loads of fuckers in looking crisis loans because unemployment and the price of stuff has went up so you have to sit there like a glum fucker and wait for your cash. Some of them had kids with them who crawled around goo-gooing a load of spidey shite.

I got a text from Fabian Wildman, the first since he's moved out, I took my phone out to read it when this wee bitch of a security guard came right over and got up in my face saying: "you can't text in here, you can't text in here."

"I'm not texting. I'm reading a text," I said.

"Same thing, same thing. You can't use phones at all."

Then I had to go outside to read it.

It was just Fabian saying that he'd left some socks and would I be in this evening for him to come and get them.

I didn't reply.

I didn't get my crisis loan either, so I just went to Tescos on the rob.

Bloody Mutherfucking Assholes

Sitting pissed off in the house there when the Banshee starts blasting out attitude addled bitch pop on her stereo. It was annoying the fuck out of me until she put this tune on and I just had to go on line and find out what it was. Now I've been singing it for the past hour. Really cheered me the fuck up. Rock out lady.