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.

The Second Day on Our Own

Today I went and sat in the Lagan Meadows with Battle Cat. Drank a bottle of wine and smashed some glass for the joggers to run over. I remember when I was a wee lad I used to love smashing glass bottles. Pile of shite.

Went home and learned how to play solitaire on the internet. Then some wee bastard came along and threw eggs at my window. I went out and gave them the chase but didn't catch one of them. I'll get the wee bastards another time I went down the Lagan Meadows in saw someone had cleared away my bottles. Fuckers.

First Day On Our Own

Today I played squash with myself in my house. That was until Derek Baby came round and asked me to stop. Then I took Battle Cat for a walk out into the Lagan Meadows but we couldn't get to be alone to talk to each other because of all the fucking joggers. Annoying huffing, puffing bastards.

Fabian Leaves

Fabian Wildman left this morning. Stanley came round in his car and they shifted their stuff. It was gruesome. He didn't even knock my door to ask for help. I was still pissed off at him for how the party ended. In the end I went down to say goodbye. He said he'd call by and we would still hang out but I think he was lying.

When he went I found that the book I'd stolen for him was left on the coffee table. I was pissed off. I took it into the back yard and let Battle Cat piss on it. Then me and him went down to see Nanny Boo Boo. She asked how the party went. I lied and told her it was a swell affair.

She asked if I'd someone to move in. I told her I wanted to live on my own for a bit. I didn't like living with strangers. She nodded and said that at least I'd Battle Cat to keep me company.

"Aye, he's not much of a conversationalist, are you boy?" I said to him.

He thumped his tail off the ground and kept eating the bowl of scraps Nanny Boo Boo had saved for him.

Then she went in and stuck this tune on and we just sat drinking wine. I was so pished at the end of it all Battle Cat had to walk me home.

Fabian Wildman's Leaving Party

Last night was Fabian Wildman's leaving party. Of course, I was one of the first people on the scene. Me Fabian and Betty Blue tucked into the wine while we waited for the guests to arrive. I gave Fabian his book on 20th Century art and he blurted out that he'd been reading this in the morning when he'd stayed over at Betty Blue's.

I felt like my shoplifting had been for nothing. It really sucked. I decided to get pished on the wine and threw a lot of it in me without offering anyone else a glass. Anyways, the next person to arrive was Hot Baby Roy and there was a bit of a drama there. Hot Baby Roy had bought Fabian Wildman 10 Things I Hate About You as a present and Fabian was trying (quite forcibly, but politely) to tell Hot Baby Roy that he didn't want it. Hot Baby Roy was most upset and accused Fabian Wildman of acting like that because of his girlfriend being present and that he remembered the two of them getting high as kites and watching The Babysitter's Club and singing the 'what do you wanna eat?' rhyme for days.

Fabian Wildman said he would not hear such stories told in front of his girlfriend and asked Hot Baby Roy to leave. Hot Baby Roy left all teary eyed.

Then Stanley, Sandcastles and The Unicorn Girl showed up. I thought at that moment that the party might rock, ever so slightly but all three of them stayed distant from me.

Rock and Roll Stephen showed up (it turns out that him and Sandcastles go way back or some such bollocks). Sandcastles showed us how she could recite all the first series of Black Books and most of the second. It sounded a lot less funny when she said it but Stanly and The Unicorn Girl howled with laughter.

Then Clarence and Hot Baby Roy showed up. Hot Baby Roy was screaming about how he'd been wronged, and Clarence put his hand through a window (he put his fist really) and was standing giving all that to the Unicorn Girl like it was no pain when me and Fabian grabbed him and dragged him into the back yard and kicked the shite out of him.

Fabian was a bit more pissed at this stage and said to Hot Baby Roy that he could stay. Hot Baby Roy was so happy. Fabian told him he thinks he should move in, and Hot Baby Roy looked all embarrassed and said he didn't want to live with a violent druggie because he liked me but I'd a bad rap.

The arty pals all nodded and said that I hit poor Postman Pat and that Mother of Bowling Ball was going to kick my head in. I told them that he'd be found drinking a cup of his own pish in my wardrobe if he tried. They all went silent apart from Sandcastles, who started to cry. Fabian Wildman just stood there wide eyed and didn't even stick up for me.

Shite fucking Party.

Shoplifting in Belfast

I'm just back into the house now with my bag of goodies. I went in the city centre this morning to get a present for Fabian's leaving. I started by shoplifting a copy of Catcher in the Rye that I promised someone I'd read. I thought while I was doing it that it seemed like something a teenage rebel would do so I felt very cool about that.

I haven't started it yet but I've heard all sorts of stories about it making people want to assassinate famous people, like the dude who shot John Lennon. I watched a movie about him once (or started to) but it just seemed like this fat asshole walking about being a cock so I didn't watch the rest.

Then I had to get moving because I wanted to get a good present for Fabian. I'll be sad to see him go because he's been a good housemate, and we've both looked out for each other and had a lot of laughs. He has most stuff that he needs for the house so I decided to steal him a book on 20th Century Art, just so he'll know what all the arty peeps he's living with are talking about.

I think Fabian's wanting Hot Baby Roy to move in and though I like him fine I don't want to live with him because the place will just turn creepy and to be honest I've seen Battle Cat looking at him sometimes like he's going to pounce. Hot Baby Roy doesn't deserve that but Battle Cat's his own dog!

Finally I stole a couple of bottles of wine and Doritos (cool original flavour) and dip.

Tonight's gonna rock like a smoking hot screaming wild sweaty metal guitar solo!

The Best Hangover Cure and Sexy Carlos

I got pished with Fabian Wildman last night to say commiserations for my job interview going so pish and now I'm just sitting pissed off and hungover as fuck.

I tried the Rocky cure for a hangover (drink a box of eggs) and I boked all twelve all over the living room carpet. I left Battle Cat in and he licked the fuckers right up. Still I was hungover as fuck and cried because I felt so bad (the hangover and the no job), I'm sure this isn't good for me because it will dehydrate me more.

I went for a walk over to Ormeau Park and I bumped into Sexy Carlos. He was out running and I asked him what was the best hangover cure. He said "Simple, don't drink."

"You're fucking simple," I said and stuck my foot out for him to fall over, but he jumped it sprightly and ran on.

I know Sexy Carlos from when I was a member of Spirit Fitness opposite the BBC. Carlos used to sit in the sauna all night and count his chest hairs. Then go for a jacuzzi. This made me feel worse, because I used to be in alright shape, I sat on the bench and had a wee boke to myself.

Balls Job Interview - No 2

So my interview yesterday went total balls. I just about managed to get the wine off my teeth (it was red) and bit the rest off my lips but I could tell by how the interviewers looked at me that they knew rightly. It didn't help that I was really late and had to run so I was breathless and sweating heavily throughout the whole thing.

First they went over what experience I'd had. I lied out my hole saying I'd done this and that for companies which (if they'd asked) had all conveniently went bust (which they didn't) and gave Fabian Wildman and Nanny Boo Boo as references. At the end they asked me to sign a form which said they could check with the dole to see if my employment records were correct. I told them no because I felt it was intrusive. Either they trusted me or they didn't and in this line of work trust was important. They bought this even less and told me if I didn't sign it they couldn't offer me a position.

I told them my principles were more important but really if I signed that sheet they'd find out it was all balls and the dole would think I'd been doing the double.

Not fucking fair

Touching the Bowl

I've a right fucking hangover after all that cake and wine. My guts feel like chewing gum and my shite's coming out like toothpaste. Fucking harsh. I got some more booze in me to nip the bastard before it starts. My metaller brother sent me a text today. Not an apology, just a "what you been up to with yourself dude" thing.

Anyways, hangovers are weird because I didn't feel so pished last night after I came home but Fabian Wildman says I fed a whole packet of sausages to Battle Cat and tried to get him to run down the street like in cartoons. I do remember doing this but it didn't look as funny as I thought it would have.

Anyway I've got to go for a job interview later so I'm going to have to clean myself up. Wish me luck.

A New Month - New Prospects

I've been helping Fabian Wildman pack up his stuff. He says we're going to have a leaving party with Betty Blue's arty pals (his now), and it's going suck because I know it'll look like Fabian with the civilized arty types around him and me sitting with Hot Baby Roy and some other degenerate. I'll invite Derek Baby and The Banshee just so I'll have rockstar kudos. I don't like thinking like this because I hate all these social maneuvering dicks I always run into. Giving everyone the same handshake and calling shite stuff "interesting". I'm scared that's what I'm starting to turn into but it's just that I'm sick of not having people to go out with.

I got a letter this morning telling me I'd a job interview with a security firm. I'm not too optimistic about it. It's one of those ones where you have to pay for your training, like I need some dickhead to teach me how to kick someone's ass and put their head through a plate glass window. Still if I get to wear one of those headsets like Britney Spears wears I'll be happy.