How to Report a Missing Person

Hot Baby Roy is still missing, I've left him a voicemail and sent him some texts but no answer. How do you report someone missing? I know you go to the cops but is it too early?

Love, oh Love, I wanna tell you how I feel about you

Hot Baby Roy didn't come back last night either. I don't know if he pulled or if something bad happened to him. I'm not sure but I'd suspect he pulled even though both are likely.

I called his phone a few times but he never answered. Instead it gave a ring and went straight to voicemail.

I sat in and watched Eurovision all evening. It was funny seeing the UK come last, they always get it so wrong. The song and the singer were just boring. I think the German entry was the best by miles and I'm going to write a clawing fan letter to the girl asking her do a show in Belfast and offering her a place to stay at mine. I think I'll be the first Northern Irish Person she gets a letter from because I went out first thing this morning. (I'd downed the rest of Hot Baby Roy's birthday vodka and sat up waiting for the post office to open). Here's a draft of it (the one I posted was much smoother but not much different).

Dear Lena

Your song is so cool, you should do a gig in Northern Ireland. You have lots of fans here (especially me and my dog). We were dancing around the living room both times they played your song and if you were to play in Belfast you could stay at my house. I was a little disapointed that you wanted a kiss from Alexander Rybak when you won but that's a good sign for me getting one of my own (is it?).

Yours

T.

Not So Happy Birthday Hot Baby Roy

Yesterday was Hot Baby Roy's party. He was so excited and I'd been sitting with my fingers crossed that someone was going to show. I'd managed to get a crisis loan off the dole and I bought him a Mr T keyring and a Hollyoaks Girls calender that had been reduced to 50p because it was half defunct.

Hot Baby Roy was all talking about the presents he was going to get and about how he'd put a note through the leotard girls' letterbox saying they were very welcome but Rock and Roll Stephen wasn't.

I sat watching the clock crossing my fingers so tight I left big purple tracks in them. A few taxis pulled up in the street and I thought it was going to get a bit easier but the people who got out went next door. I couldn't believe the leotard girls were throwing a party on the same night like they were trying to say fuck you to Hot Baby Roy. The longer we sat the more people went next door and no one came near us. Then at about half nine. Hot Baby Roy started to drink the bottle of vodka Nanny Boo Boo sent, and then he started to cry.

"Nobody came," he kept saying. And he started hugging Battle Cat and crying even more. "I want friends," he said.

I felt bad for him. Nobody came, not even just to pop in and say happy birthday. He didn't even get a text. He started to say that he thought moving in with me was going to be the start of him having a social life and that when he started to make friends with the leotard girls he thought maybe he'd get a girlfriend but now it was his birthday he saw that people just were having a laugh at him and he was going to go next door with a baseball bat and show mutherfuckers what time it was.

I tried to talk to him to calm him down, I told him that me and him should go out for the night, that I was his friend and that I wanted him to have a happy birthday.

He was a sorry mess by the time we hit the city. He was plastered and boked a few times on our way there. I don't know how we managed to get in anywhere.

We ended up in Lavery's back bar swinging and dancing like wild apes. No one wanted to kiss or cuddle us and we ended up sitting down for most of the night. I bought Hot Baby Roy a few pints and he fell asleep. I walked about looking for someone to talk to and ended up boking in the bogs for a wee bit. Then when I came back to him he was away. I looked for him and found him sitting talking to another wee ginger girl. She and him had twisted up faces like they were commiserating each other on not having things a bit more like they'd like them.

I left him to it, hoping that he'd pull her. He's still in bed, that or he didn't come home. I'm going for a long walk to ease my hangover.

Still Just Me and Hot Baby Roy for his Party

I went down to visit Nanny Boo Boo today to ask if she wanted to go to Hot Baby Roy's party and she said that she didn't. She tried to be nice about it but she gave me a bottle of vodka and said to say happy birthday to him for her.

At least she gave him something which is more than I'll do. I've no money and I'm scared of going on the rob. I think I've lost my nerve for it but I have to get him something.

I asked her when her birthday was and she said that it had been last year when she went to London. I asked her why didn't she tell me and she said that if she had I'd have asked her her age and we'd have fallen out but she knows I'd have said happy birthday and then we drunk loads and forgot about it.

"It's My Birthday So You Have To Sleep With Me"

So Hot Baby Roy's been getting all excited and asking me who I'm inviting to his party. I know he thinks the Leotard Girls are top of the list and that he's going to get a "it's my birthday you have to sleep with me" fuck off the Raven Princess Spandex but it's not going to happen. Even before I went next door to invite them I knew they weren't coming.

So I get invited in and The Raven Princess Spandex is saying that she likes Hot Baby Roy but that he hit Rock and Roll Stephen and she thought that was mean, even though it was one of her spidey fucker friends that knocked Rock and Roll Stephen's teeth out. She says she knows but that things are different now and she's been hanging out with him and she likes him and that Hot Baby Roy is in a bad place and blah blah blah. She's into Rock and Roll Stephen and Hot Baby Roy can go and fuck basically. I knew this was going to happen, basically because Rock and Roll Stephen is a good looking guy and Hot Baby Roy isn't. That's not a dig at gingers, he just isn't handsome and doesn't carry himself in a way that makes girls want him.

That basically leaves the list at me, him and Battle Cat.

I asked the Raven Princess Spandex if The Death Owl had shown up again and she said that her and Princess Cheetara had just made it up because Rock and Roll Stephen had told her about how I was scared of the Death Owl and used to fancy the girl that lived here and she had to move away because I was always following her around.

Fuck them.

I'm Mr Blue

I know I haven't been posting much and it's a kind of excuse that I've been depressed but it's an even bigger one that nothing much has been happening. I sometimes go looking for a blog post when I don't have one. I pick up bits of paper I find lying on the ground hoping that there's something funny/interesting written there but that recently I've found nothing but boring scribbles that I can't really read.

I spend a lot of time online filling in job applications that I never recieve replies to. I wank a lot, and cry a bit too.

Today Hot Baby Roy told me that it was his birthday next week and he asked if he could have a party here. I said yes but I don't know who he'll invite most people I know either think he's a pervert or want to give him a kicking (most of them think both).

I thought this year was going to be fun. I'm blue.

We're Ruined! Ruined!

I've been lying low all week. I've been pretty depressed. I never really got depressed as a teenager much. I don't know why but it seems that I've stockpiled most of it for my twenties. Silly bastard body.

I have my reasons though, a wee nip of giggly crack and the resulting boredom and self esteem kicking that comes from realising you're not that far away from where you thought you were, or to put it in a deep way. I thought I had covered much distance but really I'd been walking in a big giant circle.

You see I need to get out of this vicious cycle (that should have been a clue!) that I'm in. I lie around on the dole feeling cool while my life crumbles around me, then I get a job I hate, then get into a bit of mess and get fired. I need to find something I like only that's not going to happen because any job that's halfway cool is snapped up by someone who's been out after it since they left school and all I get are shite jobs fucking people up (and not a bicep flexed).

Now the Tories are in (that means you Nick Clegg) the civil service in Northern Ireland is going to go to shit and that means more competition on the job market. Fuck it fuck it fuck it!

Hot Baby Roy said I should try temping just to get a view of what jobs are out there but while he says that he sits on the sofa watching suspect kids TV shows and I think he hasn't given up crack at all. I got a bit desperate last week and when he was out I went through his stuff hoping he'd some crack stashed away but he hadn't, nasty mutherfucker. Anyway I'm glad there was none because now I'm keeping shot of that stuff.

How To Be Deep

Today I wandered deep into the city and found myself out in some of the wee paths near Sailortown, that's a part of town that they're really just waiting to bulldoze. It makes me sad to be there. I went over to the Tomb St carpark and found some street kids (street-wise not tramps). I asked them if any of them knew The Unicorn Girl and if they could tell me where she lived. I told them I'd hang out on the corner of her street at the cool phonebox calling up her cell phone and waiting. I'd let it ring for ages and if it went to answerphone I'd call her back and tell her that I've a bottle of raspberry wine that I can't drink on my own so if she could just call me back I'll wait here by the phone.

They didn't say anything for ages until one of them said they didn't know her number but that I'd just broke their ideas of derilict romanticism that they find in American soft-alt-rock lyrics.

I told them to party down and go fuck themselves.

They said that they knew her and that they thought she wasn't so keen on people like me. I asked them what they meant and they said that she was trying to get rid of that dick Clarence Pishflap who hung around her like a bad smell with a bad smell and that me and all that crackhead scruffbag gang was something she wanted to move away from. They said that she used to hang out with them all the time but that now it's only really twice a week. They said that soon she was going to start dressing sharper and drinking in fancy winebars and not in some shitty street carpark and that if I wanted to get with her I could sharpen myself up and meet her somewhere nice. But not here, here I was just going to the top of the list of things she wants to leave behind her when she starts a new phase of her life.

I told the guy he was seriously fucking deep, and he said that deep is one thing but holes in your shoes is another.

More Songs About The Smoker

I went for a walk down the Lagan Meadows hoping I might find a fiver or a tenner lying around. Why is it that I always find some shit like a letter to an ex-girlfriend or some motivational shit someone's written to convince themselves not to top themselves but no one ever drops a nice fiver or a tenner for poor old Tuesday Kid no fucking way.

I came across Panther Man sitting scabbing some drink off The Indie Kid and telling him all these platitudes. It nice the two of them can hook up and bore the shite out of each other from time to time.

When he saw me the first thing he said was; "Have you ever dreamed about wolves Tuesday Kid?"

"I don't remember much about my dreams," I shrugged.

He gave The Indie Kid a look and said "you see?"

The Indie Kid wrote something down in a wee shitty moleskin jotter on his leg.

"What the fuck are you writing about me?" I asked and took the book from him.

The Smoker never dreams
even though he falls asleep
he cannot see the wolves
even in his dreams.

"So those smoker songs are about me?"

The Indie Kid started to blush. I thought now was a good time to scab a tenner off him but he said they'd spent their last money on alcohol for inspiration for songs.

There wasn't enough in the bottle to get me drunk so I wandered home skint and sober.

Searching for Jobs

I'm sitting skint in the house going through the job market online. There are fuck all jobs that I can get. It seems even pishy wee part time jobs need loads of futtery wee Mickey Mouse qualifications like RSAs OCRs health and safety certificates and I can't get fuck all. I'm just sitting here flat fucking broke. I spent my last money on a cough bottle so I could sit and get all woozy on the sofa when the crack jitters come.

Hot Baby Roy went off out this morning and I doubt he'll be back tonight. I don't think he's stopped at all. I'm going to stay stopped this time. I don't want to see that big horned daemon again. I want a job, someone give me a job.

The Battle for Westminster - South Belfast 2010

I've been feeling like a total dick today. I can't believe I've been back smoking crack again. I'd been quit for so long and all it took was meeting one prick on a bus to fuck the whole thing up.

That makes me wonder if I can trust myself around things like that in the future. I don't want to be around it but I'm always going to bump into people from the past who smoke it. Is that going to fuck it up for me every time?

Hot Baby Roy was in his bed when I left the house and he's away out now I'm back in. I don't know if he hit it off with The Raven Princess Spandex. I'd guess not but I'll say why another time.

I actually did vote. I'm not saying who I voted for but I will say that it wasn't UUP just because they're connected with the Tories. I know some of my readers might vote Tory, that's your choice and your right so let's not fight about it.

On my way to the poling station I bumped into Hoors Bastard, who I used to work with. He was smiling and happy and proud and said that he'd just voted DUP. He started saying that he was working in a different call centre now and that they were wanting more staff, and that I should come and join in the sum craic, Little My and Captain Cool Bastard and all the gang were there. Good King Thumpo, he'd been there to vote for TUV but there was no TUV candidate in South Belfast so he was sitting outside crying and saying that he spoiled his vote and that the other parties were only a shower of bastards.

Hoors Bastard said he should have voted DUP.

Good King Thumpo started shouting "Fuck the DUP", over and over at the top of his lungs.

Hoors Bastard told him that he'd better shut his hole or he'd be getting a haymacker in the face.

Then they started rolling about on the ground like a pair of lovers. Both of them passionate men, one of them already defeated with nothing to lose but the other with the chance of victory and the drive for success. I'm not sure who won but I fucked off to vote and went home a different way.

Threats from Occult Forces

Yesterday was when I had that conversation with Hot Baby Roy about us stopping crack. He was really disappointed and said that he'd been planning some good crack smoking times and he was gonna get me and him initialled pipes but I told him no way hose.

He brought out a few rocks of crack and said it'd be a shame to throw them away. I said okay then, for old times sake.

We sparked up the pipe and had a good old smoke of the crack. We were having a great time, and Hot Baby Roy said: "Wouldn't it be great if it was like this all the time?"

I thought so, but then I thought a bit harder and I saw us in about ten years time, still on the dole, wearing the clothes we were wearing then with not a tooth in our heads. I told him it would break my heart.

He said that I was killing his buzz so he was going to go and see if Hot Baby Roy on crack could have his way with The Raven Princess Spandex. I told him to remember that no-means-no because the last thing we wanted was the cops to show up when we were doing crack.

He rolled his eyes and fucked off.

Five minutes later the door went. I thought he'd forgotten his keys but when I answered it Balkazaler was standing there bearing his fangs.

"I wondered if I'd see you this week I said. You're not getting my fucking vote."

"Shut up you crackheaded fucker. What are you doing smoking that shit again?"

"I'm just having a bit for old times sake, anyway I'm bored, like it's any of your fucking business."

"Listen I'm a powerful daemon! I can see the future and you need a clear head."

"Why? Is this something to do with The Death Owl?"

"Never mind him, this is much bigger than him. You stop smoking that shit or I'll kick your balls up and out your mouth."

"I was quiting anyway after tonight. You're still not getting my vote you peeler tasched fucker."

"You're not registered to vote in East Antrim," he reminded me. Then he walked to the front door, unfurled his horned scaly wings and flew off into the night.

Walk Like a Panther

I took my thoughts about my enemies and went for a walk down the Lagan towpath with a bottle of pink champaigne. I'm going to have to be cautious. I could get major fucked if I have to fight all my enemies at once. I made up my mind to get absolutely bolloxed and scream long into the night but all the joggers fucked it up for me. Everytime I just about started to slot into my own personal space they came prancing out of nowhere on their soon to be fucked for life knees.

After a little while they fucked off, but when they did Panther Man came sliding along the path. He's called panther man because he used to wear all black velvet (except his shoes) and sit at parties spouting platitudes like "most murders are committed in most people's minds," all while scabbing roll-ups and drinks off people. Last I'd heard he'd fucked off to Dublin for University but I think he's been kicked off his course.

He's changed. Where he used to be the sort of charming rake who could easily entice some lady to look after him financially and sexually he now dresses in roaster burnt fleeces and looks like the sort of fucker who'd come round your house to fix your tv and lift a few of your CDs when you went to make him a cup of tea.

"Tuesday Kid," he says. "Do you have any tobacco? I have some stories to share."

I told him no and that I needed to get focused for a big fight. He said to me "All fights are won before either side meets."

"Very fucking profound I'm sure," I said to him.

He slinked off along the towpath and came walking back an hour later with a black eye. He didn't stop that time.

Being Threatened with a Big Violent Dog

I've changed the look of the blog, just felt after a year and a half that I'd do some redecorating. Some like it, some aren't sure. I suppose it's like when Doctor Who regenerates and the fans say "He'll never be like (insert the previous Doctor)." But then the new Doctor does extra-cool super dooper shit in the next episode and everyone thinks they is da bomb (or thereabouts).

Me and Hot Baby Roy were watching the new Doctor Who the other night on iPlayer and thinking that this has been Matt Smith's best episode yet. Hot Baby Roy became visably excited when Amy Pond tried it on with him but was really fucking angry when he said no. He started shouting at the telly that if he'd have Billie Piper he shouldn't turn his fucking nose up at Karen Gillan.

I had to explain that it was a different Doctor so different tastes. Hot Baby Roy said bullshit and stormed off upstairs.

I took Battle Cat out for a walk and bumped into Clarence Pishflap at the bottom of the street. He asked if Hot Baby Roy was in. I asked him who wanted to know.

He told me that he was going to batter Hot Baby Roy for what he did to Rock and Roll Stephen.

"I thought you were supposed to be Hot Baby Roy's friend." I said.

"I was but he's trying to fuck it up for me with The Unicorn Girl, going round beating up her friends. Who the fuck does he think he is?"

"He thinks he's Hot Baby Roy," I said, then I realised I sounded like a dick. "Listen if you hit him I'll break your face."

"There's not just me going to hit him. There's Mother of Bowling Ball too. You'd best let me beat him up unless you want to feel his violence and all."

"Mother of Bowling Ball? I destroyed him with one punch last year. We're not scared of him, you and him. You're going to go home now and me and Battle Cat will follow you at a distance for a bit, just to make sure you're out of the area."

He protested but Battle Cat started snarling. He didn't like that. He snarled back but walk off in defeat.

As a parting shot he said: "I'm not going home, I'm going to see The Unicorn Girl."

Fuck him, at another point I'll get him for that but I'm starting to wonder, with Clarence Pishflap, Mother of Bowling Ball and The Death Owl all coming back into the picture I need to watch my back.

A Victory for The Ugly Ones

Last night I wanted to have a word with Hot Baby Roy about us not doing crack anymore but he was all happy about hitting Rock and Roll Stephen. I didn't want to spoil it but then he was talking about getting a nice bit of crack for us to celebrate with.

"Why did you nut him in the face?" I asked.

"He was threatening me with muscle," Hot Baby Roy said.

"Yeah but he doesn't know muscle. And if you'd arrived earlier you'd have heard that he's not getting anywhere with The Raven Princess Spandex either."

"A load of balls, Rock and Roll Stephen is the sort of guy who always gets girls. I'm the sort of guy that girls always say 'I like you as a friend' then they sit and bitch to me when the guys they do like fuck them over, fuck that. I didn't just nut him for what he said. I nutted him for who he is, and who I've had to be all these years."

He sounded like he was getting all hysterical and I told him that I'd go round and speak to her in the morning because it sounds like she's leading the pair of them on. It's not on.

No Romance For Anyone

Balkazaler didn't show last night, so I sat there cracked off my face giggling and feeling all happy when the door went. Here we go, I thought to myself getting ready to ask all these important questions but when I answered the door it was Rock and Roll Stephen looking for Hot Baby Roy.

"He's not in," I said. "No offence but I'm expecting someone."

Rock and Roll Stephen blustered on in all wet round the eyes.

"Tell him to stay away from The Raven Princess Spandex, he's ruining my chances. I've a strategy all worked out but she says she doesn't want to hurt Hot Baby Roy. He should go and get himself a troll or some rough thing more his league."

"That's not fair," I said. "Hot Baby Roy can make moves if he wants to, you just need to up your game, if she means that much to you."

He kind of stood there and shrugged and didn't really have an answer.

"She doesn't, okay?" he said eventually, "but Hot Baby Roy has no chance, he's just trying to spoil mine."

Battle Cat started growing at him. He's became good mates with Hot Baby Roy recently.

"She thinks of him as some sort of androgynus BFF," he said.

"No offence like but coming from someone who perms his hair and wears his mum's clothes you're hardly Butch Rambo yourself."

He jumped up and down on the spot and started shouting.

"Just tell him to stay away, he'll regret it. I know muscle."

Just then Hot Baby Roy appeared in the doorway, Rock and Roll Stephen turned to catch his eye all too late as Hot Baby Roy headbutted him in the face and he collapsed screaming. Battle Cat strolled casually over to him and pissed on him. Then Rock and Roll Stephen crawled weeping out of the house.