Tonight Will Be Fine

Hot Baby Roy is out now to see Hot Firey Love Lady. She wants to talk about the weekend and what happened. I hope it works out. Hot Baby Roy feels terrible about it but I'm not sure if it's because she's upset with him or because he had his ass kicked for a second time in front of her.

The Punchbowl Girl has asked me out to a party tonight so I can meet some of her mates. I hope it goes okay. I hope there's not some typical Belfast blast from the past waiting to knee me in the proverbial balls.* I hope that in the words of Leonard Cohen (a favourite of The Punchbowl Girl's) "Tonight will be fine, will be fine, will be fine, will be fine."

*In Belfast everyone knows everyone else so when you meet someone new they always know people you know (and don't want to see anymore) or worse people you've fucked over (or fucked up).

Rescuing Fabian Wildman from the Amazon Porn Army

Nanny Boo Boo phoned me in a wile state earlier. It was horrible, she was saying she had a phonecall from Fabian Wildman and he was in a wile state, she thought he'd been smoking that horrible crack and he said he was chained to a radiator in the house of some guy called Vandle van Bundle.

"Do you mean Zim Van Bindle?" I asked.

"That's it," she sobbed down the phone.

There's nothing to spur you into action like an old woman crying. I forgot all about not being so keen on Fabian Wildman and his piss drinking ways anymore. I pulled on my coat and told Nanny Boo Boo I'd be back with a safe Fabian in no time.

I hoped on a bus (or two, maybe two) and in no time I was at Zim Van Bindle's house. I knocked on the door and when no one answered I braced myself to kick it down king kong kung-fu style. I was worried and thought that maybe a snarling horny Battle Cat could have won the day for me. I gave the door a final knock out of politeness and some sketchy man with black eyes answered the door. I pushed past him into the living room where Zim Van Bindle was sitting watch a DVD of Barb Wire surrounded by some she-ras.

"Where's Fabian Wildman?" I shouted.

"He's in the bathroom, he's going to test out the amazon warriors for me," Zim Van Bindle said. "I have to know that they can do this."

He pointed at the TV screen where this was happening:



"Fuck that," I said heading for the stairs.

"I went upstairs where Fabian Wildman was quivering below the sink with a load of other soon to be pulp guys. I did a macho thing and kicked the sink off the wall and screamed "Girl Power" the guys all ran off screaming.

Fabian Wildman and me escaped out of the window because we knew that the She-Ra's would destroy all the wimpy men running down the stairs. That plus Fabian Wildman owed Zim Van Bindle lots for weeks of crack he'd let him smoke.

Fabian is now sleeping on my couch. Hopefully he's learnt his lesson. I'm still not sure how I feel about everything but I'm glad that Zim Van Bindle's amazon army didn't fuck him up. Nanny Boo Boo was so pleased when I called her, she said that I should bring Battle Cat down for a big bowl of rotten sausages and me and Fabian Wildman down for wine.

Being Threatened with a Big Violent Dog

I've changed the look of the blog, just felt after a year and a half that I'd do some redecorating. Some like it, some aren't sure. I suppose it's like when Doctor Who regenerates and the fans say "He'll never be like (insert the previous Doctor)." But then the new Doctor does extra-cool super dooper shit in the next episode and everyone thinks they is da bomb (or thereabouts).

Me and Hot Baby Roy were watching the new Doctor Who the other night on iPlayer and thinking that this has been Matt Smith's best episode yet. Hot Baby Roy became visably excited when Amy Pond tried it on with him but was really fucking angry when he said no. He started shouting at the telly that if he'd have Billie Piper he shouldn't turn his fucking nose up at Karen Gillan.

I had to explain that it was a different Doctor so different tastes. Hot Baby Roy said bullshit and stormed off upstairs.

I took Battle Cat out for a walk and bumped into Clarence Pishflap at the bottom of the street. He asked if Hot Baby Roy was in. I asked him who wanted to know.

He told me that he was going to batter Hot Baby Roy for what he did to Rock and Roll Stephen.

"I thought you were supposed to be Hot Baby Roy's friend." I said.

"I was but he's trying to fuck it up for me with The Unicorn Girl, going round beating up her friends. Who the fuck does he think he is?"

"He thinks he's Hot Baby Roy," I said, then I realised I sounded like a dick. "Listen if you hit him I'll break your face."

"There's not just me going to hit him. There's Mother of Bowling Ball too. You'd best let me beat him up unless you want to feel his violence and all."

"Mother of Bowling Ball? I destroyed him with one punch last year. We're not scared of him, you and him. You're going to go home now and me and Battle Cat will follow you at a distance for a bit, just to make sure you're out of the area."

He protested but Battle Cat started snarling. He didn't like that. He snarled back but walk off in defeat.

As a parting shot he said: "I'm not going home, I'm going to see The Unicorn Girl."

Fuck him, at another point I'll get him for that but I'm starting to wonder, with Clarence Pishflap, Mother of Bowling Ball and The Death Owl all coming back into the picture I need to watch my back.

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?

My Year

So I started this blog just after my birthday last year and what a year it's been. I've been sitting back taking stock of everything that's happened.

I started it because I was always going round in circles and getting into the same old crap.

I can say though that in this past year I've given up crack, started looking after a pet, joined and been kicked out of a sweaty heavy metal vomit rock and roll band and met a tonne of new people, some of which are good friends. Not just that but if you look down my side bar you'll see a load of other cool people you should check out.

That said here's a few wee stats about my year.

I've had 3 housemates - Fabian Wildman, Battle Cat and Hot Baby Roy (briefly)
I was going to count the number of fights I was in but I couldn't be arsed, you just need to know I won them all.
I've had sex a few times (not enough) and still have no girlfriend.
I started wearing leotards
I met someone who thinks that unicorns are an extinct species
I've been asked to watch Wild Child 143 times and said no 142.
I vomited in a woman's mouth (and she vomited in mine)
I saved a few people from unjustly getting their balls kicked.
I forged a member of Razorlight's autograph (to stop someone going to the police)
I cried a bit but I laughed a lot
I sniffed a few felt tips
I shoplifted loads
and I may or may not have licked the bowl (some people may wonder though).

I've not had a job but as of yesterday I have now found one and I start my pish call centre training on Monday. Wish me luck!

Tuesday Kid the Teacher - Another Lesson

The post brought me two letters, both interviews for jobs I've applied for. Both call centre shit but I can do the training and fuck off before I have to start the post.

My protege was waiting for me in Stranmillis today. I was glad to see him because I was eager to undo any damage meeting Hot Baby Roy might have done. I shouldn't have been worried.

"That guy was a wanker," my Protege said.

"He can be okay," I said, "try not to become like him."

"I won't I've got you teaching me how to be the coolest," he said (thereabouts). "Last night I was getting pished with my mates and we kicked fuck out of someone. Just some dick who was walking around minding his own business."

I hit him a boot up the hole.

"What the fuck was that for?" he said.

I dug him in the guts.

"There, you don't like getting beat up for fuck all," I said. "Neither did he, that's today's lesson."

"We gave him a worse kicking than that," he said.

Then I put him in a head lock and gave him a duck egg. He ran away crying.

Nanny Boo Boo Is a Weird aul Doll

In his state of dreaded lurgy Fabian Wildman has been blasting out hot radio all day. I was so super fucked off because for some reason he kept blasting out some song by the rugrats that kept going "flying a kite, flying a kite," loads of times.

I had to get the fuck out so me and Battle Cat went down to see Nanny Boo Boo and she told us about some wee fellah round her way that was sticking bangers up cats arses and she wanted me or Fabian Wildman to give him a digging. She said it would be better if I did it because Fabian Wildman was such a skinny wee creater he might get a digging off the wee lad's da.

I told her Fabian Wildman could win fights all day long except that he has the sniffles now but someday soon that wee lad's going to be lying flat on his back with no teeth and his mouth pishing blood.

Battle Cat woofed at this.

I told her that Battle Cat would bite him too.

She then said that was great and told us she'd say we were with her when it happened.

To be honest I've no intention of beating up a child but it makes Nanny Boo Boo feel safe when you tell her that you'll beat people up for her. I might just go find the wee lad and tell him it was my cat and scare him a bit, either way, she'll never know.

An Unwelcome Guest

I woke up this morning and the house was freezing. I went downstairs to find Clarence lying on the livingroom floor clutching an empty vodka bottle in one hand and rubbing his crotch slowly with the other. He'd Hot Baby Roy's Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging DVD tucked under one arm. It was rotten looking.

"Clarence, how'd you get in here?" I asked.
He just groaned.

Fabian Wildman came down stairs asking why the house was so cold. He said he didn't know how Clarence got in, then we discovered that he'd kicked the back door in while we'd been sleeping.

My first thought was Battle Cat, if he'd ran away again, Clarence was dead meat. I ran out into the back to find him lazing about in the garden. Clarence had left the back gate open. Bastard.

I shut the gate and ran back inside.

Fabian Wildman was already going through Clarence's pockets for money. He shook his head at me to say there wasn't any.

"Who does this bastard think he is?" he said. "This is our home."

It was touching to hear that Fabian Wildman still thinks of this place as his home. We gave Clarence a few gentle shakes to wake him up, then after asking how he was feeling, me and Fabian Wildman beat the shite out of him.

Sweaty Metal Rock and Roll Night

We were woke up last night by screaming and howling about murder and human blood, at first I thought it was a late sweaty metal jam but after I heard someone shout "I was in love with her," I realised that this was surely no sweaty metal song.

I ran next door with Fabian Wildman not far behind me. Half the lights were on in the street. The banshee was howling (she really is very good) and the sweaty metallers were shouting their heads off.

I started thumping on the door, shouting for them to calm down, when one of them stormed outside.

"Tuesday Kid, let's you and me start a band," he said. "We don't need these dicks."

"You're just jealous because the banshee loves me," the other one shouted.

"How? How can she love you more? I was always the most metal out of us," shouted the first one.

"No, it was me," shouted the other one.

"Let's ask Tuesday Kid," they said turning to me.

"To be honest lads, I always had trouble telling yous apart," I shrugged.

"How could you confuse me with this dick," said the first one.

I was saved by the Banshee coming out and asking Derek Baby to come back inside. The second one went back in with her.

The first one stood there shaking with anger.

"Derek Baby?" I said, "what's your name?"

He glared at me and stormed off down the street, tears streaming down his face.

We'll Make Great Pets

My metaller brother called today and said that he hadn't seen me in ages, and wanted to know if I'd come to his house to hang out this week. I said yeah, and asked him had he heard anything about Wino Jo. He said that he'd explain it when he saw me. I was a bit worried by this answer and said:

"He's not dead is he?"

My Metaller brother chucked and said "No, no, no, don't be silly."

Strange answer but I guess they must have heard something about him being okay.

Betty Blue brought round a mate last night and the four of us had dinner. I'd no real warning of this(fifteen minutes notice from Fabian Wildman) but I clicked pretty early that they were trying to set me up with her.

I didn't mind but I'd planned a night of licking the bowl. I also needed time to download some cool shit from the internet on how to talk to hippy girls. I'd learned from the party that they didn't get impressed from fight stories, which is a pity because I've a few good ones.

As it turned out she was into "causes" one of which was endangered animals. Which is a cool cause, she was talking for ages about pandas and tigers etc and it all sounded really cool up until she said. "We don't want to see another beautiful creature like the unicorn become extinct."

I didn't know what to say about this. So I smiled and said "I used to know a girl in primary school who thought unicorns were real."

I don't know what was worse, the look on her face or the look on Fabian and Betty Blue's I wasn't trying to be nasty, it just popped out. Because I thought she was sweet, and I've always put being a nice person over brains.

The night didn't get any worse, but we didn't really hit it off.

The party wasn't as cool as I'd thought

Turns out after thinking I had rock and rolled all night and been super cool that people at the party are calling me a spide. It's all because I threatened to hit that guy who was drawing on my face. Now here's what happened in detail:

I wake up on the couch,

dickhead is drawing on my face.

I grab him by the front of his shirt and put my fist up close to his face.

I say: "If you're still here when I get back from washing my face, there will be trouble."

I leave to go and wash my face and you know the rest about meeting the cool gurl.

Now Betty Blue told us last night that this is the way it's being told by some of the dicks at the party.

That I punched the guy in the face and chipped his tooth. Then I gave him a chinese burn on the leg and he's been walking with a limp ever since.

What a gang of mutherfuckers.

Betty Blue says that she knows I didn't hit him but that the guy is well liked as a practical joker and often gets into bad situations when pissed and that his mates are very protective of him. Fabian Wildman said to me that it's a shame because he knew I was excited about how cool the party had been but violence is the one thing that lot can't tolerate. They've learned other ways of fucking people over. Do it to each other regularly.

Turns out Hot Baby Roy got on great by using the "Ghost" line:

Namely, he says that Ghost is his favourite movie because he loves the bit where they fanny around with the pottery. Liar.

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.

I'm in Love with a Fairy Tale

Fabian Wildman and Betty Blue watched Eurovision together the other night, I didn't because I hate it. Fabian Wildman has been in a bad mood ever since about the Norwegian entry (which won, and which I'm not going to show here because it's balls). Anyways, I caught him talking on his mobile this morning to some Norwegian holiday firm asking them if they would give him the wee bastard's address, just to send "hate mail" he winked at me when he said this and showed me his balled fist. They hung up on him.

I told him about getting kicked out of the band. And how I've just been sitting round the house licking my wounds and wanting to lick the bowl. He agreed, he says he loves to lick the bowl. I told him I felt hurt by the sweaty metallers and that I'd thought we were friends. He gave me a sympathetic look and asked if I wanted a smoke of crack. I told him no. I told him I wanted to get a job. He told me that I needed to be careful because the work almost destroyed him and it was crack that helped him get his life back on track. I told him that being a crackhead wasn't the same as having your life back on crack. He just rolled his eyes and boiled some eggs.

Britain's Got Talent - Tuesday Kid's Got Skills

I've only just found out about Britain's Got Talent and I've had a radical cool idea for if it comes to Belfast. I'm not gonna play smokin' hot solos for them, oh no. What I'm gonna do is kick fuck out of Piers Morgan. I'll say my skill is Chinese Gung-Fu then slap the mutherfucker about the room. Any security that try to stop me will get slapped to fuck as well. Then when he's a sorry mess I'll say to Simon Cowell and Amanda Holden "Vote me through to the next round or you're next." Then I'll get to fuck Piers up all over again in the next round.

That said I'm taking Foosted Wotsit Head to a hypnotist to see if we can find out more about his freaky dreams and Wino Jo.

Those Poor Shops of Belfast

We have new neighbours. I heard them moving in yesterday. Two big sweaty metallers. When I saw them move in I was so shocked I just blurted out:

"Hello Sweaty Metallers, do yous worship the devil?"

"Get fucked you spidey ballbag," one of them said flipping me da bird.

Then I explained that I wasn't judging him it was just that the peeps who used to live there were satanists.

"Do you want your shit kicked in?" he asked, thinking I was just taking the piss more.

It wouldn't have been right to slap them around the place, because I'm sure they get people saying this shit to them all the time. I went inside. I figured I'd go round another time and introduce myself properly.

Fabian came home today in tears. When I asked him what was wrong he said that he'd caught a wee kid shop lifting and called the cops, when the cops came it was the same ones that busted him last year. The cop didn't recognise him but Fabian realised there and then what a scumbag he was.

"So you're not going to catch shoplifters anymore?" I asked.

"No!" he spat. "I'm a scumbag for thieving. Those poor shops of Belfast."

One of the chairs in our kitchen has a wonky leg. If he'd been sitting on it I'd have kicked it out from under him. But as it was he was on a sturdy seat.

Indie Wank Boy Gets Fucked in the Mouth

I've been dying for a smoke of crack all week and today I couldn't take it any more. I went out to the bin to search for my pipe, to find that the bins had already been emptied. I went in the house and started pacing up and down the living room thinking about how I could get myself some crack and be back here and high in under an hour.

Then I went to the cupboard and found a bottle of Vodka. I thought if I'd a few slugs of it it'd calm me down. I downed it in about ten minutes and felt great for about half an hour then I boked all over the place and passed out.

When I woke up the house was empty and in darkness.

I went across the street still a bit pissed to speak to the indie dick who filmed me pishing through Hooka's letter box.

"What do you want?" he said.

I grabbed him by the throat.

"What do you think you're at videoing me with your phone you wee wanker?"

Some Razorlight rock and rollers came piling out of the livingroom.

"Let go of him bozo," they said.

"Okay," I said letting him go. "I want you to destroy that video."

He started laughing and looking at his mates. I kneed him in the balls and brought my fist up to hit him in the mouth as he doubled up.

He keeled over unconscious. His mates stood there looking worried.

"Any of you wee wankers fancy a taste?" I asked them. They shook their heads.

I went through the wee indie wanker's pockets and found his phone. I found the video on it and deleted it. Then I put it back in his pocket.

"See when he comes round," I said to his mates. "Tell him if he's made any copies he'd better delete them too, because if I find out there's any floating around I'll give him some more of the same."

I was shaken awake last night to see Fabian Wildman's big tearful face looming over me in the moonlight.

"It's him," he whimpered. "It's the Death Owl."

At first I thought he was downstairs but then I heard him screaming through the wall.

"Fat Rab wanted to kill that goat," he screeched. "he was doing it to please our lord Satan."

The next voice I heard was Hooka's. It was loud and tearful but not afraid.

"You won't be killing any more animals in this house. You're not fucking welcome here."

I didn't hear Fat Rab jumping in on any of their sides, joyless coward.

"The next full moon, we'll be having a blood sacrifice here, Fat Rab has already agreed." The Death Owl shouted back.

"I don't care," Hooka shouted. "I'll call the police on you again and if they won't do anything the blood sacrifice will be you."

Then I heard Fat Rab.

"Hooka please put down that knife. The Death Owl is a very powerful warlock."

"I won't harm your woman," laughed The Death Owl, "but let us sacrifice that wanker next door's new puppy."

I jumped out of bed and put my clothes on. I didn't give a fuck what Fabian Wildman saw.

"Stay here and bring Battle Cat inside," I told him.

I walked out onto the street and banged on their door.

"The Death Owl, come out here to I kick your fuck in," I shouted up at the window.

Hooka came down and pleaded with me.

"Please don't make him angry, he knows some very powerful spells," she sobbed.

I barged past her and caught the Death Owl coming down the stairs. I trailed him down them and dragged him out onto the street, where I gave him a severe beating.

"Right You fucking cunt," I shouted. "I don't give a fuck what magic you can do, or what daemons you send to my house. You ever touch my dog, anything ever happens to him I don't care where you are, I'll fucking end you. Is that clear?"

"You're making a mistake to mess with me," he growled.

I booted him twice in the face.

"You've already made a fucking mistake to mess with me." I shouted back at him.

He waved his wand pathetically but I kicked his wand arm and he screamed in pain. I went in the house and made sure everyone was alright then I went back to bed.

I was woken up at 4am by this song blasting through the walls. I guess Hooka and Fat Rab made up.



It isn't fair.

Today I went down to the post office to cash my housing benefit. I paid my internet bill and went and got me some crack. Before that I went to Bishops on Bradbury place and got me a curry chip. Their chips are a bit rotten and greasy but it's nice to feel something slushing about your stomach after it's been empty so long (even if it's going to empty itself five minutes later).

I met Good King Thumpo while I was in there. I hate Good King Thumpo. You can tell that when the troubles was going on he was in the thick of it, breaking people's knees and all that, now it's calmed down (or supposed to have calmed down) Good King Thumpo is a bit redundant and just wanders about trying to heavy people.

He's blathering away to me about some guy he beat up outside Auntie Annie's the other night. It's mostly wee indie kids that drink in there so it's hardly impressive.

"What do you think you're looking at?" Good King Thumpo shouts at this wee spindly indie fucker.
"Nothing," the guy says. To be fair he probably was looking at Good King Thumpo because he looks like Papa Shango from WWF (clothes and all - replace the face paint with tattoos, that's why he can't get a bouncers job).
"ARE YOU SAYING I'M NOTHING? I'M GOOD KING THUMPO!" he shouts storming over.
"I'm just eating my chips," the wee indie guy says.
"No you're not; you're coming outside for a fight with me," Good King Thumpo says grabbing him by the scruff of his stripey jumper.
"Good King Thumpo leave him alone," I shout. It's not right, he's probably just some indie kid down from the Alternative Ulster offices up the street.
Good King Thumpo lets him go and walks back over to where he's getting his chips.
"Just got a bit carried away," he says, sweating heavily.
Good King Thumpo is really not right in the head, and you may think what I did was brave but Good King Thumpo is scared of me for the stupidest reason.

One night I was out in Lavery's and he was there. He started hassling me and being a dick. I kept my temper (I know I couldn't beat Good King Thumpo) and left at the first opportunity, he followed me round Bradbury Place and The Lisburn Road trying to start a fight. He took a few swings but he was so plastered they all missed. Anyway he got bored and wandered off home, only to fall over halfway and split his face open on a curbstone. He wakes up the next day and can't remember, all he remembers is hassling me and so he thinks I've done this to him.

When he came up to me a few weeks later and apologised I just said "well, if you watch your mouth me and you could get on fine." He's been dead on ever since.

The girl behind the counter is so pleased that I stopped a bloodbath in her take away I get my bag of rotten grease for free. Yummie.



Good King Thumpo yesterday. (Owner of skull unknown).

My fruitarian brother called round today. He looked weary but there was something excited about him too.

- You've got to come with me, he said eagerly, pulling me by the arm. - I want a McDonalds!

I followed him through the streets of Belfast. It was funny watching his large shambling frame all clean and clothed for a change.

He talked excitedly about how he missed meat and was looking forward to "masticating a cow". He kept repeating that phrase.

I wondered what had brought about the change in him but didn't want to ask.

I felt really happy for him sitting at McDonald's as he wolfed down three Big Macs and licked his fingers clean at the end.

It was a really good day up until he boked all over the show. Something to do with his body not being used to meat proteins. He couldn't hold it down. Poor guy. It would have been okay but he boked in some wee kid's hair and his da wanted a fight. I told him if he started anything his kid would be going home with a da with no teeth. The kid burst into tears and started screaming "DON'T HIT MY DAD!"

Poor kid, anyway we fucked off at high speed after that.

The town was full today, don't know why but it was hard to get round Belfast without people banging into you. My favourite game is to walk into people who aren't looking where they are going.

There are a few exclusions to this:

Old People, people with prams (must have child in pram), pregnant women and people with walking aids/wheelchairs.

Anyone else is fair game.

There are two types of people who walk without looking where they're going:

busy people - they know where they're going, they're in a hurry and are usually deep in thought about other things. They are the lesser of the two evils.

people who are up themselves - usually female (though not always), people who spend a lot on cosmetics and don't watch where they are going because they think people are watching them (and will thus avoid a collision).

The second kind is the funniest to walk into. Today I did it at least five times. The trick is not to knock someone flying but to give them a jolt.

This one lady started yelling at me that I should watch where I'm going and that she was a poor defensless woman and I was nothing but a brute.

This dude decided to ignore the advice of fellow junky William S. Burroughs - never get involved in a boy girl fight.

He came along all, "what you doing? I'll bust your face!" I laid him out with a kick in the balls.

Then I turned to the girl and smiled sarcastically. She hit me with the most beautiful smile I've ever seen, and asked if I'd buy her a drink. I obliged and we got along famously.

Her name is Sweet Lips (that's the only name you're getting) and we're meeting for cheapo Tuesdays at the Dublin Road. I dunno what's on, hope it's a horror!