Big Old Plans (or new ones)

Getting off crack is exhausting work and spending a lot of Tuesday down the Lagan Meadows really took it out of me. I've been sick in bed ever since. Fabian Wildman gave me a cough bottle and made a joke about how I'm using it for its intended purpose for once.

Being in bed has given me more time to weigh up my situation. I haven't heard from any of my neighbours since but I'll take that as a good thing, for now.

Battle Cat has been up keeping my feet warm and I've been talking to him about how I'm going to stay off crack and get a job and do cool stuff. I'm not sure what yet but I'll figure it out I'm sure.

The first thing I'm going to do is burn my bedsheets because he's just pissed on them. But for now I'll have a wee snooze (no pun intended).

Giving up on the bad stuff

Okay so that's me done with the oul crack. I've given up and binned my crack pipe. Me and Fabian Wildman pissed on it, then we let Battle Cat piss on it, just so I really wouldn't want to use it again.

I've me bottle of cough syrup and I'm gonna take it steady. I wonder what life will be like now me and Fabian will both be off crack. He's out looking for a job, says he's sick of the dole. Says it's hard to get a job because everyone is looking for one and a lot of ones that already have one want two. That's a bit strange. No one should have to work two jobs to get by, or even have a nice life.

Everyone should get some time on the dole like me, just clears your head, and if you've a cool mate like Fabian and a puppy dog like Battle Cat it can be a lot of fun.

But I also remember how lonely I was last year and sadly it's like that for a lot of unemployed folk.

I'm gonna settle down now and get some sleep. I hope I don't piss the bed.

Fabian Wildman Calms Down

Fabian Wildman boked all over his room today. I only found out because he was too sketchy to clean it up and left his windows open to let the smell out. Silly bastard didn't realise how bollocks freezing it is outside and so I woke up to the sound of his teeth chattering in the next room.

I got him some cough medicine to take the edge off things and he felt well enough to clean it up. Half of me would like to see him take up crack again but the other half is glad he's getting straightened out. Something I should think about myself.

Later in the day he kept listening to an old Nancy Sinatra song Sugartown. It almost made it feel like it wasn't winter, because with the windows closed, the heating on and the fact that it's bright outside you almost forget it's early January.



For the line about dog he kept pointing at Battle Cat and for the line about the Friend he pointed at me. There was no mention of cats so he just shrugged at Gobbolino. Gobbolino didn't seem to mind. He was happy just to sit and lick his fur. Fabian's stopped wearing his zentai and lounges about the house in a dressing gown and tracksuit bottoms, which is an improvement. He can see where he's going for a start.

Coming off Crack

Me and Fabian Wildman smoked all our crack with Betty Blue on Friday and as bad luck would have it couldn't get any yesterday. I went round a few dealers today but still couldn't get any. So I bought some cough medicine on the way home.

I came home to find Fabian Wildman smeared across the wall in his Zentai muttering and screaming about how "tongues fly" and "my body slides" and hissing like a snake.

I told him to cut it out or he wasn't getting any cough syrup. I don't like the idea of him all sketchy tonight with Battle Cat. If he scares the pup with his knife I'll kick him out, and I really don't want to do that because I'm actually liking having him around. He doesn't pay any bills but he buys most of the crack, he's tidy and he helps out with Battle Cat. Most of all I like him around because he's good company. He doesn't follow me around, he does his own thing a lot and when we do hang out he always has something interesting to say. Of course when he's coming off crack it's a different matter.

"Let'ssss kill the ssssssatanisssssst," he hissed as he slid slowly down the wall and slithered across the floor to get some cough syrup. "I'll sssssssssstab the Fab Rab mutherfucker."

"No, no killing, I want to get that fucker a different way," I said passing him the bottle.

I'm going to let Battle Cat stay up in my room tonight. He's started catching on that the newspapers are for shitting on, so hopefully I won't have a big mess to clean up tomorrow. If he shits on my carpet I'm dragging it into the alley and setting fire to it.

As for Fabian I only hope I can get my hands on some crack tomorrow.

The wind is howling like a mutherfucker here in Belfast and I can't go out to buy more drugs. Worse still my dealer won't come round to sell to me because he might catch the cold and then he'll have to stay in bed to get better, and he won't be able to make money from selling drugs.

Anyways fuck him. I hoaked out all the cupboards and found a bottle of cough medicine and half a packet of Strepsils. I took them all about an hour ago and I just feel kinda woozy. Not cool. I've just been laying on my sofa thinking about how cool it would be to be Hermione Granger's boyfriend but I guess that'll never happen. It makes me so sad when I have to end daydreams with that thought.

I got a call from my asshole brother too just while I was starting to think about something else and he just reaffirmed that my Hermione thoughts were bullshit and that I should punch my own weight. What does he know? Mutherfucker does yoga and is a fruitarian so he doesn't really have any weight. I think he cheats sometimes and buys a bunch of bananas to get his dose of potassium K but he insists that's balls.

Anyways. I'm pissed off because I don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight without my two lines of coke; maybe I should have saved some of that cough medicine.