Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging Night

Hot Baby Roy called round plastered last night. He brought a DVD of Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging.

"If you like Hermione Granger you'll love this!" he foamed at the mouth as he reached for the DVD player with big greedy hands and greedy eyes.

"Is there magic girls in it?" I asked him.

"Not that kind of magic," he said, "but magic all the same."

As it turned out, it was a film about teenage girls learning about growing up. I didn't like it in the way he thought I would but it seemed a touching wee film anyway, in the end it just bored the fuck out of me. The girl was a grumpy teen who talked like a bucket of melted ice cream. I fell asleep at the part where she goes to get snogging lessons and woke up at the end as the band in the movie (The Stiff Dylans), play a pish song.

There were some bits Hot Baby Roy wanted us to watch twice but we politely (but firmly) said no. After it finished he asked if we fancied seeing Bratz. We told him that we were tired and it could wait til another day but he said one of the girls had a deaf friend. We told him he should bring it another time.

He also kept making hints that he's about to get kicked out of his flat, oh dear.

Nominated

I'm just coming on here briefly to boast about being nominated for two irish blog awards. Thank you to whoever nominated me. And since I'll probably not win I'll give you the speech I'll been busting to deliver since I was first nominated back in 2009:

"I keep it real. Life on the streets is tough. Fuck tha police, fuck tha government, politicians man fuck em too. Fuck advertising companies and people who photoshop models on magazine covers. Blah blah blah and thank you to Hermione Granger for keeping me company on those long lonely nights."

I'd probably not say the half of this. I'd just mutter something about how nice it is to win and get very drunk back in my seat.

Congrats to everyone else nominated.

 If you are wondering what's been happening with me I'll give you a little bit of info:

Hot Baby Roy and Hot Firey Love Lady have moved in together (in Leeds).

I'm sharing my bachelor pad with two dogs (Battle Cat, of course, and Ma-Mutt [Good King Thumpo's dog. No one has seen Good King Thumpo since he went to make his snuff movie]).

Fabian Wildman is still doing the rounds and we see each other from time to time.

Nanny Boo Boo is alive and well.

My protege has started catering college and sometimes brings me cakes to stuff my face with.

And as for me and the Punchbowl Girl, I'll keep you guessing.

Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince

Hot Baby Roy had Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince and a big bowl of home popped pop-corn waiting for me when I got home last night.

He was so excited and said this was going to be the best thing since we met the Leotard Girls. I was very excited too and had been lucky to have bought a big bag of Doritos on the way home.

We sat down and got ready for a whole evening of Hermione and the other peeps. Hot Baby Roy very quickly started talking about how sexy Emma Watson looked but I asked him not to break my suspension of disbelief; I liked to think I was spending the evening with Hermione Granger, not an actress playing her.

He said this was cool and we watched the whole thing without him spoiling it for me once, we salivated and mopped it off or mouths and chins with doritos and popcorn then at the end of the evening sad as we were (I won't spoil the ending) we went up stairs and wanked. (I could say I assumed that Hot Baby Roy wanked but that's like saying if it's wet outside that you assumed it has rained, not that I saw any fluid from him).

A party at last.

Fabian Wildman was out when I got home from my metaller brothers. A bit careless like because he left Battle Cat in on his own. When he does this he leaves him out a bowl of food and lots of water so it's not too bad, but I sometimes worry about people breaking in and stealing him.

Anyways he finally came back last night with Betty Blue and some of her mates. The Unicorn Girl, a girl called Sandcastles and A guy called Stanley (who looks like Stan Laurel),

Unicorn Girl seemed to have forgiven (or at least forgotten) my faux pass the other night, and gave me a big hippy hug when she came in. Sandcastles didn't say much and Stanley turned out to be probably the biggest closet homosexual I've ever met.

From the moment he opened his mouth I thought he was a bit camp and within the first few minutes of meeting him he'd insisted that he wasn't gay (even though no one had suggested he was), that Robbie Williams was gay without a doubt (because of the women he had dated) and that he has nothing against gays.

Then he proceeded to tell a story which had no real point beyond him fucking his girlfriend (apparently his dick bled afterwards).
Once we got that out of the way he calmed down and the three of them had brought booze, they said I could have some. I took Fabian aside and told him what had happened at my "intervention". Fabian was livid. I'd started to calm down about it, I wasn't so much angry any more, as just hurt.

Then we'd a knock on the door. We were worried in case it was the peelers.

"Open up It's Hot Baby Roy," shouted Hot Baby Roy from outside.

We let him in, he'd his friend Clarence with him (who I hadn't met before but Fabian says he's like Hot Baby Roy turned up full blast).

Hot Baby Roy wanted to know if he could watch Bring It On here because his TV was bust and it had sexy cheerleaders in it. Clarence started downing a bottle of vodka and rubbing his crotch. I think Betty Blue's mates were a bit scared.

I told him no, but that him and Clarence could hang out and have a bit of a shindig with us because I'd been expecting one last week that hadn't happened.

In the end we'd a good laugh, the sweaty metallers came round and brought the banshee. I got fucking trashed and I remember telling Hot Baby Roy that he was becoming a good mate (I hope I didn't tell him he could move in when Fabian goes). I rolled up my big Hermione poster and gave it to him (even though Fabian gave it to me first) but it was mostly because I didn't want the girls to see (I think girls find it a bit weird).

An Invitation of Sorts

Today me and Fabian Wildman walked to Ormeau Park with Battle Cat, He said he really likes it here and it would be shit if they turned it into the national stadium and that they should put it somewhere else.

I asked him if he wanted it put elsewhere, he said he didn't care he just didn't want it there.

He told me that he thinks we need to talk. He said he thinks that I've been single for a while and that he thinks it's because of Hooka. I told him it wasn't.

He said that he knew that I really liked Hooka and that when she fucked off I just made some remark about how I was glad it was all out of the way and that maybe I was but that he was sure I just kept a lot of it inside and didn't let it out and that he thinks I should.

I said that wasn't true and that it was easy enough for him to say that because he was with Betty Blue and he could run around in his slinky zentai and get her to let him eat boiled eggs out of her pussy.

He said that he'd been with Betty Blue for a while now and that he was very happy with her but it could end, and if it did he'd be sad but he's aware that it's not set in stone and it's all about having the balls to give it a go.

I told him I did have balls and he took out a picture of Hermione Granger.

"You see this woman? This is Emma Watson who plays Hermione Granger. You could someday become her boyfriend..."

"Yeah right, like she'd look twice at me," I snorted.

"You could," he said. "Stranger things have happened. But you need to know that even if you did, you'd not be going out with Hermionne Granger. You can't. It can't be done. She only exists in the fictional world of J.K Rowling."

"And in the hearts of Potter fans everywhere," I said triumphantly.

"The point I'm trying to make is you need to start fancying real women. Not fantasy girls who only exist on TV or in books."

"What about Hot Baby Roy?" I said.

"I've had this chat with him last night. But forget about him, do you see what I'm saying?"

"I suppose," I said.

"Because if you do then Betty Blue is having a party at hers tonight with her arty pals, you might meet someone you like there, but not if you're going looking for Hermione Granger."

"I don't want some wierdo who drinks paint and tries to shit international blue either," I mumbled. We'll see how it goes.

A Critique of Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging

Hot Baby Roy hasn't been over since we watched Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging he left the DVD for us in case we wanted to view it alone.

I told Fabian Wildman that I thought Hot Baby Roy was a sleaze and that I felt uncomfortable watching that pish movie the other night. Fabian Wildman said that he thought the movie was quite sweet and he'd enjoyed it. I'd just sat through it looking for things to sneer at and that I should have just relaxed and watched it.

I said it was so bad I fell asleep.

He said I should watch it again, like Hot Baby Roy suggested, because he thinks I have more in common with Hot Baby Roy than I probably realise. He said that both me and Hot Baby Roy have been single for a long time so Hot Baby Roy lives vacariously through romance movies and I just sneer at anything that suggests affection because I'm scared of being rejected.

I said this wasn't the case, that I had initiated two sexes this year so far, with two different girls, one of them an American and the other a rock and roll vomit heavy metaller, and neither one had shown even the slightest intention of knocking me back.

He said it hardly made me Joey from Friends but that he wasn't just talking about sex he was talking about connecting with someone. He thinks me and Hot Baby Roy should look for girlfriends instead of lusting after Hermione Granger/ Emma Watson.

I hope he doesn't have a point but I suspect he might have one. I'm going to go and walk Battle Cat and mull it over.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Orangemuggles

Fabian Wildman was all excited when he saw me this morning. I thought it was because he was getting ready to go to the parades. He said it was because he'd some good news for me.

He said that he read that the Ron Weasley had the swine flu and that now was my chance to get hot and heavy with Hermione Granger. I told him that Ron Weasley was fine and that it was only the actor Rupert Grint who acted him that was sick but that he was better and if I ever had a chance I'd missed it.

He looked a bit crestfallen, but he soon cheered up when I asked him what he was doing today. He said he'd sniffed some sharpies and he was off to watch the parades. He asked if I fancied joining him, it's not really my thing but it's been a while since we done felt tips together, so I stuck a blue white board marker up my nose and off we went.

We were there for a wee while digging on da tunes when I said to Fabian Wildman that they should write some tunes for dancing.

This spide said that I wasn't a true prod and that him and his mates would fight me.

I told him he had a point but that I'd a better one and I'd be sticking it up his arse with my foot.

Apart from that the rest of the day was fine.

The Hermione Granger Fan Club

Hot Baby Roy might read my blogs because after me slagging him off a bit recently he showed up at the house today saying that he'd a present for me.

I was a bit dubious but he went into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded up bit of paper to reveal a picture of the lovely Emma Watson who plays the gorgeous Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter movies.

He said he was a big fan of hers but he knew I was too so he thought he'd bring me a gift.

I was very happy.

I invited him in for a cup of tea and a chat about Hermione.

It soon turned out that Hot Baby Roy was more into Emma Watson and I was more into Hermione. I told him my love for Hermione was pure, while he said he'd love to have sex with Emma Watson under a waterfall.

I didn't fancy his chances but I told him that was a nice thing to think about.

He said that if Razorlight could do it, so could he, because Razorlight was an ugly bastard and Hot Baby Roy had moves.

He has a point there but I'm not so sure her and Razorlight did the deed. I suspect if they did that Razorlight would boast about it in a song.

He said that when he came off crack he'd written her a letter, not about sex but about the other emotions he felt for her. She never replied. He included a picture in it too. That might be the reason why.

He said he was doing his Care Bear Stare in the photo and that if he ever met her he'd do it and he'd be sure to win her heart. He did it for me and I told him he'd have more luck if he just bundled her into the back of a van.

He asked what me and Fabian Wildman were doing for the twelfth. I told him I didn't know about Fabian Wildman but I liked to sleep all day and wank a bit. I waved the Hermione picture at him to show I appreciated the effort because he looked a bit sad that we weren't doing anything.

Perhaps Hot Baby Roy is lonely like I used to be.

Hermione Granger is further away than ever and the guy from Abba is a weirdo

I stayed in tonight because I'm skint as fuck and Fabian Wildman sat all sulky and teary eyed trying to start conversations with me about Jacko that I'd no interest in. I was contemplating licking the bowl (that's how far gone I was) when Jonathan Ross came on. I like Johno and I haven't watched him in ages. So I thought I'd check him out. I was so happy to find that his first guest was the sexy Hermione Granger (well, not Hermione really, it was Emma Watson who plays her in the films). Anyways Emma was being all cool and funny and I think I've forgiven her for dating Razorlight (I hate him). Then she turns round and says she has a boyfriend. I was fucking livid I nearly kicked the tv round the house for the rest of the evening. I tried to hold back but I was seriously considering doing it anyway when she says that she had to kiss Ron Weasley and it felt like incest. I felt a wee throb in my crotch and gave myself a good rub down. I was a bit all over the place for the rest of the show until I saw Benny from Abba's sixties band the Hep Stars. Here they are, what a weird bunch of fuckers:

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.

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.

The leader of the Razorlight Fanclub

We got up late in the house. Fabian Wildman seemed okay after last night and Battle Cat even managed to shit on the newspaper I'd spread out for him in the kitchen.

Fabian took Battle Cat out for a walk and I went to the Dunnes on the Ormeau Road to buy some food. I used to like shopping here because it was cheap but now I only go here because it's one of the few shops left that allows you to pay by cheque. The even better thing is that it isn't even my cheque book that I'm paying with. Fabian managed to lay his hands on one while he was on the rob. He says he got it out of a student house. Most of them only have cheques to pay their rent so hopefully they won't notice it's gone until January.

While I was at the shop I bumped into Rock and Roll Stephen. Rock and Roll Stephen is a mixed bag: He's one of those people who will be friendly with you when it's just you and him, or he's at some place and you're the only person he knows, but if you're out at the Limelight or Katy Daly's and he's with the Razorlight Fan Club (his rock and roll friends) then he'd just blank you.

He comes strutting up to me and launches into a long and boring spiel about how some girl told him he looks like Johnny Borrell but he thinks it's only because they both have curly hair. I don't know who Johnny Borrell is but Rock and Roll Stephen explains that he is the leader of Razorlight. He says the word leader as if we're all marching with him.

I walk away while Rock and Roll Stephen is mid-sentence because he always does that to people and it's why a lot of people don't like him.

He's put me in a shit mood talking about Johnny Borrell: I don't like him because he went out with Hermione. Well not really Hermione, the actress Emma Watson who plays her in the films, but it's still closer than I'll ever get.

I tried to talk to Fabian Wildman about bills today. I got him in the morning just after we'd all breakfasted so that he didn't feel hassled.

"I thought you might ask," he said with a grin. "I was going to hold it back but now's a good time to give you this,"

Then he pulls out a big fuck off size poster of Hermione Granger. It's from The Order of The Phoenix, and she's standing with her wand about to cast a spell and that oul bitch Umbridge is in a wee bubble. It says "The only way is Rebellion!" and that's cool because I always knew Hermione was no goody two shoes. She looks pure lethal.

"I got it when I was on the rob," he says, and I feel a bit guilty about taking it, because I imagine some guy all sad because he can't look at Hermione any more when he's going to sleep. But then I think, so what, no one loves Hermione Granger like I do.

I tell him not to worry about bills and that for now. I know I'm being suckered but I don't want him to ask for the poster back.

"That's not all," he says, then he pulls out a crack pipe and we sit and have a good old smoke of crack. I didn't do anything else for the rest of the day but sit there and stare at Hermione. Fabian Wildman is a really cool housemate.

I woke up this morning to find Battle Cat had indeed shat all over the kitchen floor. Fabian Wildman was tip-toeing round it making his breakfast. He was smoking and I wasn't sure if it was a spliffy or a straight.

"It's just tobacco," he said holding it up after catching me eyeing it.
"Maybe we shouldn't smoke anything round him, you know, he's only a puppy, don't want to hurt his lungs."
"Yeah, no bother," he said taking his food and going off into the livingroom with it. My food really. I need to have a talk with Fabian about what he pays and what he needs to start paying. I'm letting him live here rent free after all, even though I'm having my rent paid for me he's still pocketing whatever money he gets.

I clean up Battle Cat's turds and have some breakfast of my own. After that I took him for a walk. He's a lively wee thing and we got down as far as the Lagan Meadows. It's a nice place to take him even if it was a bit cold.

While we're there I talk to him about all manner of stuff. Mostly about Hermione and how I'd like to be her boyfriend but she doesn't exist so I can't, and how I'd thought Hooka was a bit like Hermione because she did magic too, and how she was going out with Fat Rab and how I'd hoped him and The Death Owl would go to jail so I'd be in with a chance but that didn't happen and how I'm going to get him to maul The Death Owl when he's older.

He just woofed along pleasantly, even though he hasn't met any of these people and probably can't understand English it was just nice to have someone to tell this stuff too and get it off my chest.

I stood outside the cinema for three hours waiting for Sweet Lips. Even though we agreed to meet at six, at first I thought maybe she'd gotten the viewing times mixed up but after it reached nine I couldn't kid myself any longer.

Three hours standing in the misery that is Bankmore Square in the windy, pissy cold night. I wandered up Botanic and called in on Fabian Wildman, I hoped he'd have some crack. He didn't. He's hateful too when he's coming off crack, all twitchy and scatty as fuck.

I was telling him that I'd been lonely now for a while and I'd been looking forward to my date with Sweet Lips because it'd be nice to have someone, especially at this time of year when it's so miserable. It'd be nice to have someone to feel involved with, so I wouldn't be running around all the time inside my own head all tangled up in all the crap that happens everyday and that yeah, I would like to have someone I could think about or give a shit what's happening to them. That's why I just seem to sit there all day daydreaming about Hermione Granger, and I just feel like such a sad fucker because it's not even like something's going to happen between us.

I felt I was going on a wee bit so I shut up. Fabian just sat there for a while, then he took out his flick knife and started dancing around the room all jerky and twitchy.

"You know what you need to do?" he says, "you need to stab the Ron Weasley muthafucker,"

The stupid bastard thinks I've just been talking about Hermione the whole time. He says he's read the books and that Hermione is digging on Ron and that that's why I don't stand a chance.

"Ron Weasley isn't real," I say to him. "Niether's Hermione, that's why I feel sad, I feel like a sad bastard."

"It's okay," he says, "I'd stab the Ron Weasley for you, I got your fucking back."

I'm not going to keep this up. Stabbing anyone, let alone a fictional character, isn't going to help.

I like Ron Weasley, and if him and Hermione end up together that would be cool. I get up and leave because Fabian looks like a wanker dancing round his room with his knife. I know that anytime soon he's going to put on his Zentai and ask me to play blindman's buff. I once waited until he put it on then beat the shit out of him, but I'm not in the mood.

The thing is, if Fabian did try to stab Ron. Harry and Hermione would have Ron's back, not to mention Dumbledore and Hagrid and Sirius and Neville and Luna and all the Weasley clan, and that's only scratching the surface. Who do I have? A retard in a Zentai, and some satanist neighbours. My only real friend is my crack pipe.

I just wander off home and stop along the way to get some crack.

I don't smoke it, I just sit in my room and cry while listening to some Neyo. He really hits the nail on the head when I'm feeling like this.

I spent all yesterday boking and convulsing, so it was nice to sit out in my back garden with a cup of tea today. Hooka was out in her garden with big swollen face. She came over to talk to me and I was happy for her to see that the cop hadn't put any of her teeth out.

She told me all about how they were just getting ready to celebrate the pagan new year, which she says happens at Hallowe'en, and how poor Fat Rab and The Death Owl were now locked up and she was all on her own. I didn't know what to say to this but out of the blue she said.

"you know, you've nice eyes when they're not bloodshot."

Poor Hooka, she seemed really lonely but then her house is full of dead goat blood, so I'm not going to go in and keep her company.

I was thinking that because it's the pagan new year I might as well make some new year's resolutions. My system is pretty clear of drugs I'd guess, crack and coke anyway; I'm not twitching as much so it must be. I decided I'd give up the drugs. Illegal ones anyway, that and robbing people's houses.

I went into town to buy myself a present to say well done. I went into an art shop on Queen St where I used to buy felt-tips to sniff but the big fat woman behind the counter who looked like family guy was hassling some kids about trying to knick stuff so I pocketed some felt tips and some spray mount and went outside and gave it to the kids. Then I went and bought myself a big bag of buns and an Usher CD. I looked for a poster of Hermione Granger but there weren't any.

I was walking about all day wondering where I could buy some good crack. I could have went round to Fabian Wildman's but I doubt he'll let me sponge more off him. That plus I get creeped out by The Death Owl.

I sat up in Cranmore park hoping some kids would come along so I could steal their hash. I had been there four lonely hours and it was getting dark when a wee fat kid done up with a big pumpkin head came along, all dressed up for Hallowe'en.

"Trick or Treat?" he says.

"Smell my feet," I answered.

"Suck my dick," he says waddling off.

Cheeky wee bastard. He's too small to hit a clash so I just gave him the fingers. I nearly burst into tears. I started thinking about what it was like being a kid and going door to door getting money for Hallowe'en. I don't know how I got from there to here, and I wondered if I could pinpoint the exact dates and times that were most important in bringing me here. Strange to think that some days are just a normal day and not much will happen, but other days will change your life. And if you could have known they would before you got out of bed would you have just stayed there?

I started thinking of the lines of that Tegan and Sara song - Dark, you can't come soon enough for me.

How right they were, because when it got fully dark I went and broke into a house (not saying where but it was one of those snobby ones up the Lisburn Road) and stole some valium.

This will help me sleep. Sweet dreams - of walking through fields of poppies with Hermione Granger and her breath is warm, and smells like sleep. And she'll take me deeper and deeper, making me feel more magic than any crack pipe ever could.

Sorry, the valium is kicking in.

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.