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.

Rock and Roll Stephen is Back in Action

Last night I took Hot Baby Roll on a pink champaigne swigging adventure down by the Lagan Meadows. We bumped into Rock and Roll Stephen, Clarence Pishflap, The Unicorn Girl and the girl that Rock and Roll Stephen was trying to steal from another man.

The Unicorn Girl immediately told Clarence Pishflap about my making her cry the last time we saw each other. Clarence looked warily at me like he knew any foolish act of heroism could blow the Clarence The Protector ruse he's been casting for weeks.

"I hurt my arm lifting weights today," he said, rubbing his arm. The left soon after. Clarence looked back at me resentfully and drew a finger across his throat. I flexed my bicep at him in the manner Avril Lavigne used to in the early stages of her punk rock career, only mine were much bigger and dangerous.

Once they were away Hot Baby Roy pulled me to the side and asked if I'd help beat up Rock and Roll Stephen. I told him that I didn't want to hit Rock and Roll Stephen. Hot Baby Roy said it was okay he didn't need to win he just needed to fuck up his face.

Back at the bench Rock and Roll Stephen had his new teeth out in some style and was making up for gummy months by giving it all that about how into feminism he was and was rhyming off this big long swab of bullshit he'd no doubt prepared for this moment.

Here's how it went:

"Feminists, man. I sometimes feel embarrased being a man because we can be so shit to girls, women, I mean women. But we're not the only ones I mean women don't know how far ahead they are sometimes. I mean take Marilyn Monroe, a lot of women see her as a ditsy blonde, a bad role model for other women but still there were pictures of her published while she was still alive that show her reading James Joyce's Ulysees and weightlifting."

Hot Baby Roy rubbed his groin. "Power and brains," he breathed.

"But me," continued Rock and Roll Stephen. "I respect women, I respect you."

Then he leaned in for the kiss but the girl was having none of it. She hit him a slap and stormed off.

"What can I say?" said Rock and Roll Stephen. "It must just be my reputation. I have a reputation for breaking hearts. But I'm trying to change."

Some guy came up to us then and asked who was Rock and Roll Stephen. Rock and Roll Stephen meekly held up a finger in fear. The guy punched him in the side of the jaw and walked off.

When Rock and Roll Stephen opened his mouth next his shiney new teeth came crumbling out and he fled in tears.

Rock and Roll Stephen last night

Hot Baby Roy is a Dirty Bastard

Today I walked down by the Lagan with Battle Cat. There were all these big burly women in rowing boats competing against each other. All these people rode alongside the river screaming at them to go faster and win and all that stuff. They nearly ran me and Battle Cat down. I called them fuckers and they still didn't take notice.

Fabian Wildman's mate Hot Baby Roy was standing down by the riverside.

"Hello, Tueesday Kid and Battle Cat," he said.
"Hello Hot Baby Roy, why are you watching the boat race?"
"Because these ladies are fine, fine, fine!" he screamed. He didn't take his hands out of his pocket. I could tell by the bulges that he'd cut a wee hole in the lining of his pockets so he could play with himself while he watched.

I felt awkward so I asked him how he was doing. He said he'd quit the crack and that he now hosts a quiz night at the Rangers supporters club on Sandy Row. No one there knows about the crack and he'd like to keep it that way.

I'd say none of them really want to know about the pervy trouser thing either but hey. Even big burly weightlifteer rower ladies have a right to wear tight lycra and grunt and groan in public without being treated as sex objects.