My time spent sitting on the sofa has turned into convalescence (the last big word Book Boy ever taught me sniff sniff). I've been happed up with a blanket and me and Battle Cat have been watching shit like Pop Star to Opera Star, and trying to work out why Darius Danesh is now called Darius Campbell. I think they should make a show called Pop Star to Ringo Star where failed pop stars have to learn how to play some Ringo tracks on drums, read Thomas The Tank Engine stories and end it all by recording a big "Peace and Love" message saying they were retiring from showbiz.
Hot Baby Roy and Wino Jo have been acting weird and Hot Baby Roy isn't spending every night in the house anymore, I think he's going to fuck off and scab off another better off friend.
Wino Jo has been talking about where he's going to go now. I haven't told anyone I'm kicking them out but they both just want to fuck off now the good money is gone. I think I'm going to get Battle Cat to bite them, he's still young but he's big enough to chow down.
