Lads Night In

I yesterday when I came home I slept for a bit then I heard Hot Baby Roy in walking about the house. I went down to say hello.

"Where's Hot Firey Love Lady?" I asked him.
"She has some work stuff to catch up on," he said. "Can I borrow your laptop? I need to find a job quick."
"Has Hot Firey Love Lady seen through her modern woman delusions?"
"No, she'll pay for anything Hot Baby Roy wants."

I hate that he spoke about himself in the third person.

"But I feel cheap when she pays for everything."

It was then I noticed her was wearing brand new trendy clothes, and not just some ill-fitting charity shop stuff like me.

So far he's been juggling meal deals in places just so he can say he pays sometimes. His favourite is China China near Queens and he tried to get him and her out of there before five (because at five the price of the all you can eat buffet lunch goes up from 5 to 7 pounds).

I'm happy for Hot Baby Roy and I think Hot Firey Love Lady is having a good effect on him, or at least I did until he suggested a lads night in "like old times" and pulled out a DVD of Whip It (the directorial debut of Drew Barrymore, which features jail-bait looking Ellen Page - she's 23 but so what?)

I asked him what did Hot Firey Love Lady think of this. He said it's her DVD. This just isn't fair.

Like that old sweaty heavy metal rock and roller Rod Stewart said: "Some guys have all the luck".

Searching for Jobs

I'm sitting skint in the house going through the job market online. There are fuck all jobs that I can get. It seems even pishy wee part time jobs need loads of futtery wee Mickey Mouse qualifications like RSAs OCRs health and safety certificates and I can't get fuck all. I'm just sitting here flat fucking broke. I spent my last money on a cough bottle so I could sit and get all woozy on the sofa when the crack jitters come.

Hot Baby Roy went off out this morning and I doubt he'll be back tonight. I don't think he's stopped at all. I'm going to stay stopped this time. I don't want to see that big horned daemon again. I want a job, someone give me a job.

Lonely Mrs. Puddinghead - Part 2

So I've this plan to get a new job and I pop off to the job centre to find that it's full of folk wanting jobs, all the oul gang are still there but they're outnumbered by all these high fallutin types wanting work. It's not cool, except Mrs Puddinghead is well busy and really pissed off that's she's speaking to people who actually want to work for a change.

I start looking through the jobs and see there's one for a kissogram. I think this would rock for me because I could borrow Fabian Wildman's Zentai and rock out to fuck in a house full of lovely ladies all wanting kissed. I would but I remember one time spying on Mrs. Puddinghead (out of boredom) and seeing a male kissogram show up to her lonely house night after night but then one night the kissogram didn't come any more and I asked The Albino about it one time he was in a good mood and he laughed and told me that she'd been blacklisted by every kissogram company in the province because she always liked to look on their visits as dates and wanted to move their relationship to the next level but they wouldn't and how she cried and begged and bought them chocolates and expensive brandy. He laughed so much his cheeks turned a pinkish-white. Nasty bastard.

I don't like Mrs Puddinghead but that's one of the saddest stories I've ever heard. I remembered her crying the other week and I still think she's a bitch but I can't help but feel sorry for her. I think I'll just avoid her in here if I can (I was trying to do that anyway) or just recognise that her nastiness is just a reaction to the love she sees everywhere but never feels herself.