My Dreams are Crushed Like Rose Petals in an Alligators Mouth - An Old Chinese Saying (balls)

Today I signed on and I was well sneaky. I didn't tell them about my job interview because if I get the job then I'll keep signing on for an extra month, just so they get fucked in the cash.

I'm making big plans for myself and what I'll do when I get mullah. It'll be barbeques and pink champainge every day and hopefully wet tee-shirt contests in my back yard.

That's what I was thinking all the way to my interview. It was pure balls. It's only for a pish wee shop but I was talked to like this was kay-mart or some such shit. It wore me down. I was told all about their current coffee and newspaper promo and an upcoming Pot Noodle one they were very excited about that was sure to crush the enemy or at the very least bring them to their knees. He screwed his face up like he was wringing out a teatowel as he said it.

I told him that I was a big capitalist and I had plans to make this shop into the money making machine I had dreamed about since I was a little boy.

They thought I was taking the piss and asked me to leave. I asked the guy how he could talk the shite he did and not take me seriously.

He told me I was barred. I told him I'd grow a moustache and come back in here on the rob. I'd steal everything in the shop, even the mouldy bread they try to flog to begging tramps. I was getting quite carried away but I left weeping like Ben Affleck crying over his tattered name.

Then I went with a bottle of pink champainge down to the Lagan Meadows and sat at the mouth of it crying away.

Rock and Roll Stephen was there with The Unicorn Girl. I was in floods of tears saying that I was destined to stay on the dole all my life and become a theiving bastard like that rotten bastard Gerard Taggart.

Rock and Roll Stephen said that being on the dole was rock and roll and that I should be proud.

I told him I didn't want to be rock and roll, I wanted money.

The Unicorn Girl said that I was shallow and materialistic and I told her that she only thought like that because she was probably some wee rich girl from the Malone Road.

She started to cry and I felt bad. But not bad enough to comfort her. I sat and drank my drink as she cried and Rock and Roll Stephen tried to say the letter F with no teeth.

Late Night Drunken Phonecall to Spitboke

I was all drinking on my own tonight and I felt lonely so I called Spitboke. Here's the conversation or thereabouts (she's in italics):

"Hey,"

"Hey yourself, who's this?"

"This is Tuesday Kid? Is this Spitboke?"

"Yes, who are you, how did you get my number?"

"You gave it to me the other morning after we had hot sex together. Don't you remember?"

"Is this Stephen again?"

"No, who's Stephen?"

"Are you one of his asshole friends? If you are my dad knows someone who will throw you out of a window."

"No, I just want to ask you out for a hot date."

"How do I know you?"

"I pulled you in Laverys. I was with the big guy who was covered in tattoos. The one who was calling all the other guys gay."

"Sorry still don't know you and I think homophobia is so lame. I've kissed girls before and I'm cool about stuff like that."

"Me too, I've kissed loads of girls."

(Here she did one of those asshole fake laughs to say she didn't find it funny)

"So do you want to go on a date or not?"

"I still don't know you."

"Remember I had a dog and you boked on my bed?"

"Up yours creepo I don't do stuff like that. I'm from the Malone Rd."

"Come on, let's meet next Tuesday and go to Cheapo Tuesdays at the Dublin Road Cinema? I'll let you pick the movie. And then we can go back to mine for other stuff."

"This is one of Stephen's friends! My dad will like totally fuck you up and stuff. And he'll make your parent's lose their jobs."

"I'm not Stephen, listen I thought we had a cool time together, not just the sex. I want to talk more to you. I've even shoplifted a bottle of Avril Lavigne's new perfume for you. I know that's what all you wee metal girls love."

"Fuck you, Avril Lavigne isn't heavy metal, she's punk rock."

"No she has some heavy metal stuff too. Listen do you want to date me or not?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Come on, what have you got to lose?"

"My Kidneys on the black market asshole. Up yours."

Then she hung up.

This isn't fair. I was really nice to her the other morning. I didn't even charge her for a new duvet. I'm going to write her number all over Belfast in the perviest toilets I can find. And if I do run into her da, he'll find out how those people he fucked up feel.

Pancake Day

I woke up this morning in a leotard. I cried for hours. How could that rotten bastard have done this to me in my sleep. My knife was still there so I suppose he could have done worse, besides once I got over the affront of it all it was quite comfortable.

"Nobody spark up a fag!" I heard Fabian shout from downstairs.

I ran down to find him opening the windows.

"We left the gas on last night," he said.

Then he said he saw I was still wearing my leotard. I told him someone put it on me in the middle of the night. He told me I put it on before I went to the 24 hour garage. I told him that was balls and that I'd remember that. He said that I might have put some clothes on over it but that I was definitely wearing it. I told him there was someone hiding in the roofspace. He told me he used to sleep in people's roofspaces. He once got locked in for a few days, and that there were all these weird sex dungeon devices and costumes, that's where he got his zentai. He was glad to see that I was into spandex fetishwear because he always worried that he was creeping me out when he did it. He said it was a far superior fabric to leather unless you're wanting to roll down the motorway at 70mph on your hands and knees (which he didn't).

Anyway I went and got dressed and once we were sure it was safe to turn the cooker on we had some scrumptious pancakes. Oh yeah, we rock.

I learned facial expressions from watching Thomas the Tank Engine

I woke up this morning with a DVD player in my room. I must have robbed it when I was high last night. It's a bit worrying because I usually remember stuff like that. I remember walking about the Malone Road crying about Hooka because I'd woke up to her and Fat Rab playing Angry Anderson, so this meant that she wasn't interested.

I turned on the TV to check if there was anything in the news but I got worried in case Sammy Wilson might be on. I went and cleaned up Battle Cat's shit in the kitchen and went into town. No one's still seen Wino Jo. I tried to phone my other brothers to talk to them about him but none of them were answering. I wanted to tell Fabian about what happened with Hooka but he's all loved up so I don't want to bum him out.

I went into the Zaavi in the Victoria Centre looking for the Akon album because his Lonely really sums up how I feel, but if you watch the video you see that Akon is lonely because he tells his mates to fuck off because he wants to be alone. That's not exactly how I feel but it's close enough.

I couldn't see Akon's album on the shelves so I asked an assistant. He burst out laughing at me, I told him I'd break his face and see how funny he found that. For some reason I didn't stop there, I started pouring out all about Hooka and how she wanted to be with Fat Rab and how Fabian didn't wash but he could still get a girl who looked like Betty Blue to let him eat boiled eggs out her pussy and maybe he'd like to go and find the Akon album before I set fire to him and pushed him into that stand full of pish books over there and see how fucking funny he finds that.

He quickly apologised and said they didn't have Akon because he's dead popular and the minute his album comes in it's sold out in minutes. He did recommend a band called The Smiths, who he said were great for when you felt down and that he always listens to them when he needs a good cry. I bought the album and found that this song There is a Light That Never Goes Out sums up how I feel: