Fabian Wildman's been sitting in his room all depressed since he brought Battle Cat back from his walk the other day. I feel sorry for him but he's doing really well with staying off crack. He said at breakfast this morning that he wanted to look for a job. It makes me think I should maybe get my own act together.
I went out for a walk to mull things over. I met Hooka at the top of the street. She asked me if I poured milk through her letter box. I told her no and that it was probably the wee spides who kick bins over. She told me that it took her ages to convince Fat Rab not to go round to mine to fight me. I told her I didn't care if he came round because I'd knock his fat ugly ass out. I also told her that was no way to thank someone who had looked after her pet all week and that maybe if she wanted me to help her out in future I'd see some more manners from her between now and then. She looked all shocked at me but I just walked off up the street.
I was worried because I got a call from my metaller brother last night saying no one's seen Wino Jo in ages. I rang round the hot shot banker and the fruitarian and they said they'd not heard from him. Then I realised that none of them ever heard anything from him. I was the only one who saw him except for at holidays or "family" things.
I checked the Stella Maris hostel in Garmoyle Street, which is where he normally stays. They hadn't heard from him. I checked round at the back of Queen St. Foosted Wotsit Head told me he hadn't seen him all year. Then he hicked a laugh because it had only been a week and a half. I told him if he sees him to get him to call me.
Wino Jo goes wandering off all the time and he's been missing for longer than this before so I'm not going to get too worried about it yet. Strange that the rest noticed this time.
