Sweaty Heavy Metal Rock and Roll Vomit Party Memory

I think the only other thing I have in common with Kurt Cobain is that I was in a band (briefly). A sweaty rock and roll heavy metal one. I was pish at singing. I was really in it for the metal pussy, because there were lots of heavy metal vomit parties.

I remember one in the Four Winds where there were mudwrestling ladies. The whole house was getting down to slippery mudwrestling fun and dope smoking, when a stone came through the front window. I suggested sending the wrestling ladies out to some break legs but the guy throwing the party said that he had to call the cops about it, or his insurance company wouldn’t pay to get the windows fixed. It all sounded very unmetal.

We burnt loads of toast to try to cover the smell of dope and sat in the living room waiting for the peelers. The place was a mess. The mud from the makeshift wrestling arena in the centre of the room had spilled out all over the white carpet. With all the mud plus the roaches and red wine that had been thrown on it, there was nothing you could have done with it but throw it out. Most of us were covered in mud, a few of the guys had black eyes from the mudwrestling. I caught a look at myself in the mirror. I was stoned out of my boat. My face was so pale I could have blended in with the radiators.

‘Hey, it’s the peelers,’ said a stoned guy with black eyes in a stoned drawl, as the door swung open and some cops came walking in.
‘Been making some toast?’ one of them said. He could have said more. It didn’t help that the guy who just spoke gave the peeler a stoned in-on-it grin.
The guy who owned the house was sweating like a horse during sex and making nervous jokes, while trying to take the police out into another room.

‘I’m going to write a song about this,’ I said, half joking, but one of the metal girls gave me such a look, like this was the coolest thing she’d ever heard anyone say, that I started enlarging on it, talking about a riff I had that would suit it and this cool drum break and all that sort of shit. And yes, with the peelers still in the house, I got me some metal pussy.

That's Bad Crack

So I got my pay and headed straight up to get some crack but my old crack dealer isn't there any more, probably busted. I deleted all my numbers when I gave it up. Fuck that. Hot Baby Roy might have some numbers on his phone so I fucked off to the house to see if I could get hold of his phone.

I bought a bottle of gin on the way and was pure pished by the time I reached the house. The Raven Princess Spandex came to the door and I started babbling away about how hot she was and I was sorry if Hot Baby Roy had tried to steal one of her leotards. And just as I started to catch on she'd been looking puzzled for ages I shut up.

"Hot Baby Roy was great, some guys showed up and started trashing the place and he stopped them. I just wanted to give him this," she put a present in my hand and I didn't know what to say, so I boked all over myself.

"I hope none of that hit you," I said to her as I slid down the wall.

The Raven Princess Spandex is so hot, and now I've no chance. I've been so embarrased I've been up in my room sobbing and swaying gently, I still hope I can fix this.

Who needs to lick the bowl?

Fuck this I'm going back on the crack

I confronted Hot Baby Roy today about his black eyes and asked him what he did at the party. He told me that if I was so concerned I'd have been there. I told him I had to sort out other things but I don't want our neighbours hating us and if he's done something he needs to tell me so I can put it right.

He rolled his eyes and went outside taking Battle Cat with him for a walk. He muttered something about me being a "skinny hoss bastard," and Battle Cat growled a bit at him. Glad to see he's still loyal to me.

I can't believe what a mess this whole thing's turning out. Work is shite too, I sat most of today in the disabled toilets sniffing a sharpie and trying not to cry.

I just want to get paid (tomorrow) and get some crack in me.

Talking Street Drinking and Missing Cool Partys

Hot Baby Roy left for the party looking cool last night and I sat in with Wino Jo, who was in a wile state thinking he was back on the drink. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I'd beat him up in his sleep.

Hot Baby Roy was spurting all this shite about spandex and making fetish videos with the Leotard Girls once he had one or more of them for a girlfriend. It was not fucking fair. He's going to ruin our chances with them when he lets his drooling hard on do the talking, bastard.

I told him that I wasn't going to save him if some big musclebound lughead beats him up.

He went away saying I'd thank him for it when I saw it working.

Hot Baby Roy heard the loud music coming from next door a bit later and he asked what was happening.

I told him there was a party and we'd been invited if he wanted to go. He said that he'd probably make a dick out of me if he went there and got drunk.

I told him Hot Baby Roy was probably already doing that for me.

I took him for a walk into the city centre because I couldn't hack him sitting round the house in the state he was in. I thought it would make him calm down a bit.

This made him worse, he kept seeing all the tramps and saying "there's where I'll end up."

I the end I stopped outside a pub and told him that I'd go in with him and make sure he didn't drink. I wouldn't drink either.

He was scared to go in but I told him that I'd look after him.

He agreed that he'd go in for a coca-cola.

When we went in there was live music playing and he sat and talked to me about how the music was decent and I told him that he needed to learn to let other people do what they wanted and that it was okay if other people have different tastes.

He said that he had a right to say if things were bad. I told him he did but sometimes you just have to let things go and let other people do whatever is making them happy.

He said that was a fair point and said that he wouldn't stab Hot Baby Roy. We drank our mineral and went home.

He seemed calmer and he went for a walk earlier when Hot Baby Roy stuck on a mucky DVD.

Hot Baby Roy isn't talking about the party but he has a black eye and came home in tears last night. I'll get to the bottom soon enough.