On My Own Again

So last night the Punchbowl Girl sits me down and says she wants to talk about us.

This sounds bad but instead of bursting into tears and screaming "no this isn't fair," I say. "Sure what's up."

She says that we've been having a lot of fun and she wants to know if I'm just hanging out with her or if I'd like her to be my girlfriend.

I tell her that I thought it was a given we were boyfriend and girlfriend especially after the whole spandex thing and she says no.

Then I say that I'd like her to be my girlfriend very much.

Then we kiss and it's all looking like it's going to be a happy ending until she tells me that she's off tomorrow for a week long holiday with her family.

Then I burst into tears (I don't really but it's funny because it refers to me doing something I thought I was going to do earlier but didn't do). I huffed a wee bit because the truth is I'm going to miss her while she's away.

I'm turning into a sappy boy. Oh dear.

Tonight Was a Disaster/ Dreams of Spandex are So Very Far Away

So me and The Punchbowl Girl went to this party on Monday night. I was all set to be there acting all cool and saying "this is my girlfriend"/ "have you met my girlfriend"/ "my girlfriend likes that film but I haven't seen it yet" (you get the idea).

On walking in I was surprised to find that I didn't know anyone. It was full of new students at Queens who were out partying for their freshers week. This was great because I could be that guy with a girlfriend (I've had girlfriends before, loads but if you've been following this blog long you'll know I've had a dry run).

Anyway I'm having a good time and The Punchbowl Girl is having a great time and she's telling me this really funny story about getting fired and how she had phoned the work sickline the week before and left a message giving a real sob sob excuse but didn't press the hang up button on her mobile and was dancing around her room singing a song about how she wasn't going to work with a hangover and it was a shit job anyway before she realised it was still recording. Then she left another message saying it was a joke and she'd be in for her shift.

She'd just finished when My Protege walked into the room.

"Tuesday Kid, I haven't seen you in ages, what's the craic?" he said.
I didn't get a chance to answer him before his mate went:

"That's that gay fucker who wears women's swimsuits. He's so gay!"

My Protege elbowed him in the ribs and said, "he's not gay he's a transvestite. What he does in private is his own business."

Then his mate started some rant all about how his da used to wear his mum's clothes and she split up with him because he was a weirdo and he's in jail now.

"You're da's in jail for kicking two blokes fuck in," My Protege said. "That's as macho as you get."

Everyone was staring at me by this stage and probably trying to picture me in the Baywatch outfit. Including The Punchbowl Girl who asked if I did.

I said no and that the only swimsuit I wore was a pair of Speedos. My Protege tried to fix things more by  telling stories about how I'd been a great influence on him and taught him how to be a man. Everyone listening knew fine rightly that the spandex stories were true.

I went to the toilet and thought about how I'm going to find that wee prick down Stranmillis and turn his ass into toast. I went back into the party and told The Punchbowl Girl that I'd a headache and I was going to go home because I've barely drank anything and I'd boked my ring up in the bogs. She knew I was making an excuse but she said she'd text me. She has but I haven't replied yet.

Fuck this.

When I went to kick everyone's ass I didn't leave the house

So I tried to get Hot Baby Roy to clean himself up a bit before he took me round to where Mother of Bowling Ball lived. He was saying no no, and that he didn't want to make things any worse. I asked him how it could be any worse. He's been beat up and dumped.

He said that both Clarence and Mother of Bowling Ball were at Hot Firey Love Lady's house waiting for me to show up. So they could break my bones.

I asked him what the fuck had happened.

He said that him and Hot Firey Love Lady were just chilling out when Mother of Bowling Ball and Clarence Pishflap came in. Clarence Pishflap was making dicky remarks about him and how he was a pervert with a suspect film collection. He told Clarence to fuck off or he'd be sorry. Then Mother of Bowling Ball laughed and told him that he should sit and take his slagging because he was in no position to act the hard man. He knew because he'd had a fight with him and sometimes still laughs about how easy it was to win.

Hot Baby Roy jumped up and told him that he wasn't going to be laughing about this. Then he tried some of his Karate from a book that he'd been learning. And when he shouted key-eye! Mother of Bowling Ball blocked his punch and nutted him in the face. Then him and Clarence started laying in the digs. Hot Firey Love Lady split the whole thing up and told Mother of Bowling Ball she'd get him kicked out this time but Mother of Bowling Ball said that he was just defending himself.

Hot Firey Love Lady asked Hot Baby Roy to leave because she didn't think he was into violence but she's not sure she can look at him in the same way again after what he did, or tried to do.

I told him that me and him were going to break some legs. I could take both Mother of Bowling Ball and Clarence Pishflap out with brow slaps but he started crying even more and telling me that I'd ruin his chances of getting back with Hot Firey Love Lady if I did. I told him that it didn't even sound like he was definately dumped.

This really puzzled hopeful look came across his face and I told him that I wouldn't go round there now as long as he gave me the address and was okay about me breaking Mother of Bowling Ball's legs at a later date.

He said he'd like that.

I also asked if I could teach him how to fight because Karate from a book works only in the book.

He said he'd like that too.

Then I bought us some beers and we talked long into the night about the kicking I was going to teach him to give Clarence Pishflap but Mother of Bowling Ball was going to be mine.

Positive Thinking For Work

Back in work and I'm fully charged to kick corporate ass, I'm gonna make the deals, bust the ass that needs busted for me to get that promotion I'm gonna drag the company to its knees. It's gonna knee for me.

Or some such balls, All my previous enthusiasm is gone. I spoke to Betty Blue at break and I asked her if she was calling me a stalker. She said no that she was talking about Clarence Pishflap who had went out with Sandcastles and was now stalking The Unicorn Girl. I told her that I hated Clarence Pishflap and that him and that dick Mother of Bowling Ball were going to get kickings if they tried to hit Hot Baby Roy, Betty Blue said that she remembered Hot Baby Roy and she always thought he was a bit creepy too. I told her that Hot Baby Roy had a girlfriend and they were going great and that he nice now and he was very nice to Battle Cat.


"Aw, you're wee dog," she shouted. "How's he doing these days? He was so cute."
"He great, still cute, but bigger now, still not biting people."

She laughed at that, I wanted to say something about Fabian Wildman and how he was a dick for what he did to her, but I couldn't it was too awkward over egg sandwiches.

Indie Kids Fight Back

Last night I was waiting on a bus on the Lisburn Road when I saw the funniest thing. This indie kid (not the one from my street) was standing at a bus stop with his his girlfriend when this spide comes along and starts slagging him off for his tight jeans and non-ironic moustache.

The wee indie kid took it for about a minute, then he looked at his girlfriend, then at me, and then he said to the spide to leave him alone.

"What the fuck like?" the spide said. "I'm just being some crack, no need to be a wee fruity boy about it."

"I'm not being anything," the indie kid says. "I'm just wanting to catch my bus."

"Wind yer neck in ballbag," the spide says slapping him around the head.

"YOU DON'T SLAP ME IN THE FUCKING HEAD," the indie kid shouted at him getting all up in the spide's face.

"Are you fucking starting?" the spide says getting his pigeon chest going.

"YOU WERE STARTING FIVE FUCKING MINUTES AGO," The wee indie kid shouts as he rattles him in the side of the face and starts knocking fuck out of him. "THIS ISN'T A GAME OF YOU MAKE A DICK OUT OF ME AND FUCK OFF SNIGGERING."

The indie kid's girlfriend started to cry. I didn't know if she was crying because of fear or because she didn't agree with violence but I wanted to tell her that he was in the right and the spide was the one who was bad.

The Leader of The Razorlight Fan Club Falls

The Banshee moved in next door today with Derek Baby so Fabian Wildman's pissed off about not being able to move there. He'd been brushing up on his sweaty metal moves and he was looking forward to comparing spandex with Derek Baby and now it's all gone to shit.

He was fumming about the house so I decided to get out and clear my head. I ran into Rock and Roll Stephen who was in a wile state. He said that his girlfriend had left him for some other dickhead who had skinnier jeans and looked more like Johnny Borrell.

"It's not a mark of a man who has the tightest jeans, she must be immature," I offered by way of consolation.

"Nobody's jeans are tighter than mine," he screamed. "I sit in the bath for hours to get them this tight, I'm going to get pains when I'm old."

He started blubbing and saying that he hated wearing tight jeans, he has all these infected ingrowing hairs on his legs and he can't walk properly anymore.

I offered to take him for a beer to cheer him up but he winced and looked even more panicked.

"I can't be seen with you," he screamed. "You're not cool, I need to be seen with someone who's cool to get her back."

I told him it wasn't going to happen. He was now on a long slow slide into uncoolness. The fact that he was using the word cool showed this. He'd be saying "groovy" next and meaning it, and wearing clothes for their comfort.

He fell on his knees and begged me to tell him this wasn't true but I said what he was doing only further showed this was the case.

"You know I used to hang about with you for cool points," I lied to him. "But not now, not now."

I walked away shaking my head while he lay on the street crying his wee indie heart out.

A Visit From Wino Jo

Wino Jo called round today. He was there to make up with me after the intervention. I've a feeling that the others will be calling soon and that he's here to smooth things over first.

He's stayed dry (off the booze) but he's all obsessed about finding Foosted Wotsit head and getting him off the booze too. I told him that Foosted Wotsit head wouldn't be back not ever.

He asked if I'd killed Foosted Wotsit head.

I couldn't believe he'd think me capable.

I told him no, but that I'd thought Foosted Wotsit head killed him, because of all his violent dreams.

We talked about not much for a long time. Then he burst out saying that he thinks we all have addictive personalities in our family. Him to booze, me to drugs, the fruitarian with his health food, the hot shot banker with money and the metaller with heavy metal. I told him that our metaller brother wasn't addicted to metal but he may have a point about the rest of us.

He asked me if I'd think of giving up and I told him I already had, and that I'd a nice house and a puppy dog and was trying to get myself a girlfriend.

He said he was glad about me sorting myself out and he hopes I get a girlfriend. He started to talk about our dad. Who was a drunk himself. He said that he remembers one time as a kid that he boked and dad stuck his face in it and kicked him up the arse. Nasty fucker. I wasn't sure the way he said it if it was his boke or dad's boke but I wouldn't be surprised dad did it either way. He was a sadistic fucker. Anyway the next time Wino Jo boked he made sure it was in a flower pot or somewhere that dad wouldn't spot it; the oul man hated 'poofy flowers' as he called them.

In the end me and Wino Jo took Battle Cat for a nice walk and he caught the train back to my metaller brother's house in foosted Larne. He says he hates it there, there's electric rock and roll smokin' hot guitar solos every night of the week.

Fabian Wildman is Sick, and I'm Sad

Being skint is even worse when you get sick, and Fabian has the sniffles. I blame that bastard Clarence for us waking up in a cold house. Anyways because he was sick and didn't want to go outside it was up to me to go out and steal him some honey and Lemsips. It's a lot different shop lifting when you're not on crack, because when I was on crack I just lifted stuff and away I went but now I'm sober I'm all paranoid and walk round the shop about ten times trying to work out who's a store detective. It's pure balls I had to go to a supermarket because they keep the lemsips behind the counter in most of the wee shops round our way.

After getting home with all my goodies I found that Betty Blue had come round to play nurse for poor Fabian. It made me all glum because she already had lemsips and honey and I just had to take Battle Cat for a long walk. I asked him if he thought I'd ever find a girlfriend. He didn't answer but then again he probably didn't understand the question.

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.

New Job on the Horizon

Despite the credit crunch I've managed to line myself up with a job interview for later in the week. It's with a swanky hotel in Belfast (though I'm not going to tell you which one in case someone who works there might read this). The only problem is that I don't have any nice clothes to wear to the interview.

Clothes have been a big problem for me for a while now and to be honest with you anything I would like to wear is too dear. Fabian Wildman suggested charity shops but I told him I wouldn't feel right shoplifting out of a charity shop. He told me I could apply for some grant through the dole to get clothes for an interview so off I raced back down to the dole only to be told that there was a grant but it took weeks to get sorted, anyway fuck that. They said I could have a crisis loan, even though I was saving those up for some day when I really needed a good smoke of crack but now I don't do crack I got £35 and hit the charity shops. There was fuck all I liked. It would all have left me looking like a tramp at a 70s wedding. I went home in tears knowing I'd never get the job but Betty Blue was there and told me she gets all her best clothes out of charity shops and she'd come with me and get me nice clothes.

Off we went and after a few hours in Botanic I came away with a snazzy suit and some nice shirts and even a tie. The only thing I've left is the shoes which I know where I can knick them from.

I had a few bob left over so we went for a coffee in Clements. Betty Blue says she hates Starbucks even though the one in Botanic is nice. It was nice hanging out with her because the only time I see her is with Fabian Wildman and we've never really chatted much. Turns out Betty Blue is an art student at UU on York St. I said it all sounded cool even though I don't really get all the dead sharks and that stuff. She said that she hopes her and Fabian Wildman will get married one day but not until she finishes her degree. I know for a fact that Fabian Wildman doesn't believe in marriage and even though he doesn't understand it he likes to think he's a communist.

He says he'd sooner lick the bowl than get married. I'd do both if I'd a girlfriend and was serious about her because I love to lick the bowl.

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

I have cool things on my mind

Sorry I haven't posted much this week. I've been lying in bed wanking away about the yankie doodle dandy. It made me think I've got to go and get me a girlfriend, one who makes me feel cool all the time!

I asked Fabian Wildman if he wanted to go to a rock and roll vomit party where I could meet ladies of questionable age and gender.

He told me he wouldn't because you're no one at those parties if you can't play guitar or bongos and don't have a Prince Albert.

I screamed the house down. This just isn't fair. I've wasted all my time smoking crack and feeling lonely and cool while geeks have been up in their bedrooms learning cool tunes or out getting their willies pierced.

The Sweaty Metallers and Mr Spoon came round to ask me to keep it down but I just stood in the hall screaming and balling my eyes out.

One of the Sweaty Metallers gave me a big hug and said I must be a nice guy and that he liked my scream. He said he wants me to sing for his Sweaty Metal band and that we'd never stop having Rock and Roll Vomit Parties.

This is the beginning of cool times!