Humpy Fuckers

I was out walking Battle Cat today when I saw Good King Thumpo. He was all angry and shaking his fist at some oul man out walking his dog.

I asked him how he was and he told me that he had split up with his girlfriend. I didn't know he had a girlfriend but his sort always do (hard fuckers who lick to kick people's fuck in).

I asked him who his girlfriend was and he told me it was some wee hippy doll who did voodoo. The more he talked about it the more it sounded like Hooka and I remembered how crap that had went and I asked him a bit more about her and yes she did indeed have a cat called Gobbolino and a few other things.

Battle Cat woofed excitedly when Gobbolino was mentioned, and I hoped Good King Thumpo wouldn't twig that they used to be mates.

On the one hand I was glad she'd split up from Fat Rab but I started wondering why the fuck she'd went out with Good King Thumpo and not me.

Then Good King Thumpo said he didn't think she was over he last boyfriend. This sucked even more. I told Good King Thumpo he should kick fuck out of him, I hope he does, just for old times sake.

I'm now on Facebook by the way so if you want to be my mate then click on this

Satanists 1 Crackhead 0

Hooka called round my house this morning.

She asked if she could come in. I wouldn't have invited her otherwise. We went into the kitchen and I offered her a cup of coffee. She asked for tea.

We sat and I let her speak first.

"I'm sorry I didn't come and meet you yesterday," she said.

I shrugged.

"Listen Tuesday Kid I like you but I'm with Fat Rab and I don't want to leave him."

"But he's a satanist," I said, wondering what the fuck she's doing with him.

"And you're a crack addict. You think it makes you cool? Like you're Pete Doherty or something?"

"No I don't and what do you think Fat Rab's like? Marylin Manson with a bear gut and a fucked up face?"

"Marylin Manson has a fucked up face," she said. "Just be my friend, please?"

I just shrugged. "I suppose it wouldn't be fair on Gobbolino and Battle Cat."

She smiled, but it wasn't the smile I was looking for.

I kissed a girl

Fabian Wildman's back with Betty Blue. She came round this morning and they've been in bed all day. And if you're curious about whether they've boiled eggs in there with them I haven't looked the fridge yet.

Either way they were riding away all day Fabian was blasting out Tom Waits, which was a nice way to drown them out, better than Angry Anderson, speaking of which I bumped into Hooka today when I was down the Lagan Meadows with Battle Cat. She had a camera with her, she said she loves how it looks in the winter. She wanted to take a photo of me and Battle Cat but I told her I hate having my photo taken. I let her take one of Battle Cat off the leash but I'm not posting it up here. We walked down to close to Shaw's Bridge and it was getting dark as we were walking back. You get bats down there and they kept flying close to us. Hooka was scared, even though she's a witch; I'd have thought she'd be okay with them. She said that's a stereotype and that she doesn't have a cauldron or toads or a broomstick or anything other than a black cat.

I kissed her, she kissed me back but afterwards said she shouldn't have because Fat Rab would come after me if he knew. I told her it didn't matter because I wasn't scared of him or his mates. I kissed her again but she pulled away and told me she had to go. I let her walk off because it would have been an awkward walk up the road.

I waited down there with Battle Cat sulking and when some spides came along I kicked the shite out of them and stole their beer. I went home and drank it while listening to Tom Waits through Fabian's wall.

Where is Wino Jo?

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.

The Perfect Girl

Fabian and Betty Blue had an arguement today. She stormed out of the house in the morning after shouting the place down about how Fabian was disgusting and she wouldn't be back.

Fabian sauntered down into the living room a wee while later in his dressing gown and slippers.

"Sorry you had to hear that," he said passing through into the kitchen and making himself some coffee.

He came back out into the living room and sat down.

"Doesn't Hooka and the Fat wanker get back today?" he said.

"Aye, she'll call round for Gobbolino sometime."

"You shouldn't be so sappy about her," he said. "If she'll go out with a dick like Fat Rab she's got no taste and probably no sense."

I didn't like him slagging her off so I tried to change the subject.

"What were you and Betty Blue argueing about?"

"I wanted to eat boiled eggs out of her pussy and she thought it was disgusting."

"She has a point."

"Why? It's not illegal, no one gets hurt. I let the boiled eggs cool down a bit first, so it's not like she's getting burnt."

"Why'd you want to do that?"

"I like eggs, I like pussy, I think they'd go well together."

"It's still a bit weird."

He shrugs at this and says. "It's like yer man says in Good Will Hunting: 'It's not about finding someone who's perfect. It's about finding someone who's perfect for you.' And my perfect girl lets me eat boiled eggs out of her pussy."

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.

The Obel Tower (to begin with)

After I'd a good smoke of crack I took Battle Cat for a walk. I decided to take him somewhere other than the Lagan Meadows so we went down along the front of the Lagan to where they're building that big Obel tower which will fall over a few years later because no one will want to live in it and they'll turn it into a bail hostel and all the crims will be swinging from floor to floor like monkeys pushing dope and trading dirty playing cards for pick axes and making a right old fucking mess of the place smashing their enemies skulls into the walls and pissing away the blood stains. They won't even notice when it starts to crumble and every so often the building will seem slightly smaller but the chaos will reign. I hope it happens sooner rather than later. It'd be nice to have a few yuppies in there first, all sitting cowering and ringing the peelers night and day and getting told they can fuck off (not in so many words, the cops are way too polite, at least until they get you in the cells).

I stood and told Battle Cat about this and he looked excitedly at me, I don't like that he seems so eager to be a criminal. The best kinds of criminals are the ones who don't feel that it's a choice.

Anyways when we got home there was a loud banging noise upstairs. I went up to find Fabian Wildman in my room in his zentai running and throwing himself at my Hermione poster to splat spread eagled into it. Then he'd slide down the wall with a blissful sigh and say "she's magic."

It looked really fucked up but I gave it a go (minus the Zentai of course) and it felt really good (if a little painful) but believe you me I was screaming with delight. Poor Gobbolino and Battle Cat just sat at the edge of the room watching us bemused. I'm sure I saw them shake their heads, but they shouldn't judge. Courting is a lot simpler for animals.

The Coolest Crackhead in Belfast

Hooka and Fat Rab went on holiday today. I don't know how since both of them are on the dole. Anyways, Hooka came round to ask if I'd look after Gobbolino. I said yes, like the sappy bastard I am.

Anyways I thought I'd let Gobbolino and Battle Cat play but I had to watch them because Gobbolino is still very tiny, and he could fit easily in Battle Cat's mouth, but Battle Cat was nice and they had lots of fun.

Fabian has started being twitchy and it's starting to do my nut. He gave me his knife to look after at the start of the week but that hasn't stopped him being a scary bastard. I watched him this morning have a conversation with himself in the mirror about how he was the coolest. He went on to list all the things that made him the coolest including rollerblading and shoplifting. I didn't know he rollerbladed. It kind of explains his love of spandex.

I got so stressed out about looking after him and the animals and the thought of Hooka and Fat Rab in some fancy hotel together (probably more like some shit B and B in Portrush) that I went and pissed through their letter box. That'll be nice for them to come back to.

I went in the house and told Fabian Wildman about it and he says milk would have been better because it smells worse than piss after it soaks in.

I went round later and poured a bottle of milk in. Fuck them.

Christmas Shopping In Belfast

I tried to do some Christmas shopping today but Belfast was bunged. I headed straight for bargain books. This is where I'd get most of my stuff. I saw a book on true crime which I thought Fabian Wildman would like but then I remembered him saying he was going to stab Ron Weasley for me, so I decided I didn't want anything that might push him in the wrong direction. I know he'll steal anything he gets me but just like the Hermione Granger poster it'll be a good gift. I think he's been dropping hints it'll be pajamas, after my two recent bollock naked incidents. I hope he steals them out of a shop because I don't want to wear something someone might have wanked in.

I bought him a book on dreamology because it might help him understand his nightmares a bit better, even though dreaming about a violent satanist with a knife can really only mean one thing.

I bought Battle Cat a squeaky bone out of a pet store because he's chewed the shit out of the other one and he's started on anything that can look shit with a bite out of it. I bought him a few.

I found a little wooden horse in a knick-knack store and thought about getting it for Hooka, but then I thought it was a bit gay and left it.

Then I went and found Wino Jo and invited him to mine for Christmas day, but he said that our Metaller brother in Larne had already invited him. So I gave him his Christmas Present (a bottle of Black Bush) and wished him a happy Christmas.

Then I went back to the knick-knack shop and bought the little wooden horse for Hooka.

Gobbolino is a Witch's Cat

I was out in the back garden playing with Battle Cat, even though it was bollocks freezing, because both me and Fabian were too high to take him for a walk.

Hooka shouted over the fence at me to come over and bring Battle Cat.

When we got there she said she had a new friend for Battle Cat. Then she held out a wee black kitten and said: "this is Gobbolino."

He was a dead cute wee thing and I let her hold him over the fence to let Battle Cat sniff him. She didn't want to set him down because he was very small; I didn't mind. It's maybe best Battle Cat gets familiar with him before they can play together: if he gobbled him up I'd feel awful and Hooka would cry for days.

Battle Cat didn't bark or anything he just stood there panting and wagging his tail.

I asked her where Fat Rab was. She just shrugged and looked sad. I didn't want to press it with her. I haven't heard them rowing since I beat up The Death Owl but then again I haven't heard Angry Anderson being played, which can only be a good thing.