Love, oh Love, I wanna tell you how I feel about you

Hot Baby Roy didn't come back last night either. I don't know if he pulled or if something bad happened to him. I'm not sure but I'd suspect he pulled even though both are likely.

I called his phone a few times but he never answered. Instead it gave a ring and went straight to voicemail.

I sat in and watched Eurovision all evening. It was funny seeing the UK come last, they always get it so wrong. The song and the singer were just boring. I think the German entry was the best by miles and I'm going to write a clawing fan letter to the girl asking her do a show in Belfast and offering her a place to stay at mine. I think I'll be the first Northern Irish Person she gets a letter from because I went out first thing this morning. (I'd downed the rest of Hot Baby Roy's birthday vodka and sat up waiting for the post office to open). Here's a draft of it (the one I posted was much smoother but not much different).

Dear Lena

Your song is so cool, you should do a gig in Northern Ireland. You have lots of fans here (especially me and my dog). We were dancing around the living room both times they played your song and if you were to play in Belfast you could stay at my house. I was a little disapointed that you wanted a kiss from Alexander Rybak when you won but that's a good sign for me getting one of my own (is it?).

Yours

T.

I'm Sick

Yesterday I went for a big long walk to clear my head and I think I stayed out too long because today I've been sneezing and coughing and bringing up nasty green spit.

I took the cough bottle and sat having a good old wheeze to myself. One of the sweaty metallers called round about something or other, I'm not sure what, but I made him kiss my hand, and he asked if he could lick my fingers.

I told him no.

He fucked off after that and Fabian Wildman told me he thinks there's trouble brewing.

I asked him to fetch me some scissors because I needed to defend myself in my weak state.

He reminded me that's why we have a big mean dog, and I reminded him that Battle Cat was a gentle soul and liked to play and not bite anyone.

He relented and brought me scissors, but he took hours to find them. In the end I refused them because I don't really trust myself with them.

I boked in a glass beside my bed and threw it out my window onto the street below. Nasty business being sick.

My Drug Buddy

Since I'm giving up crack I thought I'd share some of my druggie memories with you.

One of my first drug experiences was taking dope when I was sixteen. I went round to my friend's house when his parents were away on holiday. We were drinking Thunderbirds when he pulled out a joint he'd pre-rolled. I didn't believe it was real but after smoking it I started to feel all sleepy and giggly.

While we were talking balls about things we could do, just stupid stuff to make each other laugh, he suggested trying on his mum's clothes. His mum was a really fat lady and to be honest two of us could have fitted into one of her dresses.

I thought it was funny but a bit weird so I said no. He told me he'd give me a fiver if I did it so I said yes.

He got this big flowery number she wore to special events (giro day). He put one on too, even though there was no money on the table for him.

We were clowning around in his mums dresses when suddenly he tried to kiss me on the lips. I jolted back in shock, it was totally unexpected.

He said he was scared I'd tell people and that he wanted me to tell him that I wouldn't. He looked really threatening and had an empty glass in his hand. I thought he'd use it as a weapon.

I threw the dress off me and grabbed my clothes and legged it. He ran after me screaming what would happen if I told anyone about him, but he had to stop at the front door. It scared the shit out of me. I was so shocked that I forgot to get my fiver. We had just finished secondary school and I never saw him again.

Last I'd heard he'd come out, and I felt glad for him because I remember how worried he was that someone would find out. Poor guy.

I didn't smoke dope for over a year after that, and filled in by sniffing felt tips and licking pritsticks.

I kissed a girl

Fabian Wildman's back with Betty Blue. She came round this morning and they've been in bed all day. And if you're curious about whether they've boiled eggs in there with them I haven't looked the fridge yet.

Either way they were riding away all day Fabian was blasting out Tom Waits, which was a nice way to drown them out, better than Angry Anderson, speaking of which I bumped into Hooka today when I was down the Lagan Meadows with Battle Cat. She had a camera with her, she said she loves how it looks in the winter. She wanted to take a photo of me and Battle Cat but I told her I hate having my photo taken. I let her take one of Battle Cat off the leash but I'm not posting it up here. We walked down to close to Shaw's Bridge and it was getting dark as we were walking back. You get bats down there and they kept flying close to us. Hooka was scared, even though she's a witch; I'd have thought she'd be okay with them. She said that's a stereotype and that she doesn't have a cauldron or toads or a broomstick or anything other than a black cat.

I kissed her, she kissed me back but afterwards said she shouldn't have because Fat Rab would come after me if he knew. I told her it didn't matter because I wasn't scared of him or his mates. I kissed her again but she pulled away and told me she had to go. I let her walk off because it would have been an awkward walk up the road.

I waited down there with Battle Cat sulking and when some spides came along I kicked the shite out of them and stole their beer. I went home and drank it while listening to Tom Waits through Fabian's wall.