Tuesday Kid The Teacher - The Final Lesson

I was about to leave the house last night with my bottle of pink champaigne when the door went.

Standing outside looking worried and more haggard than a sixteen year old should was My Protege. I wondered if he was now on crack like I had been and I was wary of weapons he might be carrying.

"This is for you, can I come in? It's so cold," he said reaching out a Terrence Ternt D'arby CD to me. "I know all the gays like him."

I invited him in and told him that I wasn't gay and hadn't heard of Terrence Trent D'arby but I'd give it a listen. With song titles like Let Her Down Easy I'm in no rush.

He said that he'd been trying to change his ways since our last talk and he was sorry about what he did with the book I gave him but he had to act cool infront of his mates but he was trying to find new mates to be cool with, till that day he had to walk the thin line between how to be cool and how to true.

He tried to pull a profound face and I didn't want to tell him that to be true is to be cool. That would be my final lesson but it's one he should be taught by life, not by me.

I told him to go round to see Nanny Boo Boo because him and his gang had upset her with their wild boy behaviour. He said he would, I told him I'd be calling by from time to time.

He wandered off into the night to someday lick the bowl.

Who Wants to Lick The Bowl

Being sick is pish, I just lie in bed all day wanting to lick the bowl and occasionally boking. It's no fun. To top it off I sometimes hear Hot Baby Roy or Wino Jo trying to make conversation with each other through the floorboards. They're trying to be nice but they really don't have anything to say to each other.

Here's a typical conversation:

"Have you ever drank Dandellion and Burdock?"
(pause)
"I'm off the drink now, you shouldn't ask me about things like that."
(pause)
"It's not alcohol it's mineral."
(pause)
"Oh? No I haven't, what's it like?"
(pause)
"I don't really like it, it's a bit like sasperilla."
(pause)
"What's sasperilla?"
(pause)
"It's a mineral too."
(pause)
"Don't dandillions make you pee the bed?"
(fin)

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!

Lick the Bowl

I went round to my metaller brothers last night thinking we were in for a cool time hanging out. When I got there my fruitarian brother and my hot shot banker one were there too.

We all went into the living room, and there was Wino Jo, sitting alive and well, looking washed and shaved.

"Hello Tuesday Kid," he said giving me a firm handshake.

"Wino Jo! You're not dead! I thought Foosted Wotsit Head had murdered you!"

I saw the metaller brother and the hot shot banker give each other a funny look.

"So this is a big party to celebrate you coming back, where were you?"

"I was getting dried out," he says, pointing up behind him. I don't know where he was pointing because there's not that much between here and the sea.

"Tuesday Kid," my metaller brother said. "We're hear today to talk to you about some of your problems."

It was then I clocked too late, that I'd just walked in to my own intervention.

"My problems? What problems?" I don't think they were concerned about my lack of sexy lover girls.

"Doing heroin, living with a heroin addict..."

"I've never done heroin."

"You smoke crack," he shouted. "You need to get dried out."

"Crack is freebased cocaine! And I haven't smoked crack since February. What the fuck is this?"

I looked at the Hot Shot Banker, "You read my blog, you should know that I gave up ages ago, why didn't you tell them?"

"I stopped reading it because you were slagging me off," he said looking sulky.

"What about that phonecall the other night?" My metaller brother asked triumphantly. "You were clearly out of it on something."

"I was drunk, you drink too you fucking dickhead. So what if I get pissed? or sniff the odd felt tip? The reality is none of you really give a fuck, and you're all doing this to act like big men (that's a quote I stole from Jeremy Kyle). How long have you all known that Wino Jo was back? and you knew I was worried, and you never told me, and none of you were there when I did give up crack."

None of them could really say anything to this.

"Fuck this," I said. "I'm going home to lick the bowl."

I stormed out of the house. The fruitarian followed me out. He said I should come back because we hadn't hung out in ages. I told him to get fucked, after all the bunches of bananas I bought him when he was rolling about naked in his garden looking like Jungle Barry.

I wandered down to the train station telling myself that I needed to get the fuck out of Sammy Wilson country, and that when I did get home I was seriously going to lick the bowl.

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.

Hermione Granger is further away than ever and the guy from Abba is a weirdo

I stayed in tonight because I'm skint as fuck and Fabian Wildman sat all sulky and teary eyed trying to start conversations with me about Jacko that I'd no interest in. I was contemplating licking the bowl (that's how far gone I was) when Jonathan Ross came on. I like Johno and I haven't watched him in ages. So I thought I'd check him out. I was so happy to find that his first guest was the sexy Hermione Granger (well, not Hermione really, it was Emma Watson who plays her in the films). Anyways Emma was being all cool and funny and I think I've forgiven her for dating Razorlight (I hate him). Then she turns round and says she has a boyfriend. I was fucking livid I nearly kicked the tv round the house for the rest of the evening. I tried to hold back but I was seriously considering doing it anyway when she says that she had to kiss Ron Weasley and it felt like incest. I felt a wee throb in my crotch and gave myself a good rub down. I was a bit all over the place for the rest of the show until I saw Benny from Abba's sixties band the Hep Stars. Here they are, what a weird bunch of fuckers:

Balls Job Interview

So Battle Cat is still missing and no one has seen him. I'm just fucked off and missing him. Fabian Wildman is really subdued too. I was supposed to go for my job interview last friday but I called and postponed it. They let me have it today. It went fucking awful. I went in and they asked if everything was okay now. I said no my dog was still missing and you should have seen the bastards. The oul dick leading the interview, who looked like the Leader of The Draughts Club Convention went:

"Oh, was that why?"

With this fucking look on his face like someone had just told him he could lick his own balls (not the bowl - there's no way he'd ever lick the bowl). So he started with the interview and I was already well pissed off and offended and I just gave the shortest simplest answers except when they asked me why I hadn't worked in a long time and I just said I'd been travelling and made up all this shit about where I'd been and what I'd done, now I know how Amerigo Vespucci felt. But then he'd two continents named after him, so being a lying bastard is the way to go.

I don't give a fuck if I get the job. I really don't. I'm off down the Lagan Meadows again.

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.

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.

Johnny Davro and Peace Man come to a Jam

Today I was jamming with the sweaty metallers. It was wild, I was screaming at the top of my lungs. It was a new song and there were no lyrics yet so I just kept screaming about Satan! and Sex!

Johnny Davro and Peace Man were there, they are the coolest dudes in the city and they make the scene. If they go to a gig and stay for longer than one beer then whatever band are onstage have made it in Belfast.

In the middle of the jam Johnny Davro got up and started dancing all slow and metaphorically. Peace Man sat clicking his fingers. The sweaty metallers stood there nodding proudly between each other. Then when the song ended Johnny Davro asked me if I'd ever heard of Rimbaud? I thought he said Rambo so I nodded excitedly. He smiled a knowing smile and said:

"I thought I heard some of his influences in there."

After he left, the sweaty metallers said that he must like me because he said more to me today that he's said to members of his own family in his entire life.

I felt so cool I skipped next door and told Fabian Wildman, he was too busy slithering around the floor in his Zentai screaming:

"Mummy let me lick the bowl!"

I know how he feels. I love to lick the bowl.

Heavy Metal House Party

I went round to the Sweaty Metallers' house today. I brought them a housewarming present. I was sure this would get things off to a great start.

"Hello Sweaty Metallers," I said when they answered the door. "Here's a Phil Collins album for you to listen to when you're slam dancing."

The sweaty metaller told me to fuck off and slammed the door in my face. Fuck them I'm not going to try any more. I decided to have a quiet night in but the metallers started playing loud heavy metal. I looked out the window to see people in the garden. It looked like they'd invited everyone else in the street, even Mr Spoon.

I was so upset. I tried to tell Fabian Wildman but he didn't care; he was too busy talking about his five-year plan. I couldn't be arsed listening I just sat around pissed off wanting to lick the bowl.

A Visit From The Death Owl

We had a visit from the Death Owl today, or more to the point I did. Fabian had taken Battle Cat for a walk and I was sitting round the house wondering if I could lick the bowl when the door went.

"Hello Tuesday Kid," he said with an overly friendly voice that didn't match the sneer on his face.

"Hello Death Owl," I answered. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, give this to Fabian Wildman," he said reaching me an envelope.

I thought he was here to try to get revenge for Fat Rab and Hooka. The envelope was already opened so I looked in it.

It was a court summons for his shoplifting.

"Here, I'm not giving it to him," I said reaching him the envelope.

"Too late," he smirked pulling his hands away.

"You shouldn't have taken this," I said to him. "You should have said you didn't know where he was."

"But I did know," he smirked. The he walked off up the road. He was wearing his full satanic robes. I don't know why spides don't kick his fuck in. Maybe they're scared of satan.

Poor Fabian. I think we need to teach the Death Owl a lesson.