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.

The Girl at the Punchbowl

So there I was on the street just keepin it real and listening to some hardcore gangsta on my walkman (psyche: ipod mutherfucker). It wasn't working, the act not the ipod. I was trying not to give a fuck because in some ways it feels like everything was a bit easier when I was smoking crack and not giving a fuck about anything but then I was thinking about looking after Battle Cat and My Protege and I realised who the girl from work talking about her birthday was and much as I like helping people out I don't know if I ready for it again if she needs help with something.

I remember being at the Cliffs of Moher a few years ago and right at the cliff edge is a sign (a calming green one) saying: There are other options. And the number for The Samaritans below it.

I remember thinking was that really going to stop someone who wanted to kill themselves. I hope so. I think that's quite a hard topic to approach. I hope she's changed her mind about killing herself. I remember knowing people when I was a teenager who talked about killing themselves. They're all still here. I'm not saying they were just going through a phase what I'm saying is that things changed for them and they must have thought there were things worth sticking around for, even if other things were still going shit for them.

The song on my ipod turned to Tupac Shakur and I thought, there's a man who didn't want to die and he was gunned down. Then I remember thinking that maybe Tupac wasn't dead.

Fine Wine in the Summertime

With the lovely sun out yesterday me and Battle Cat went for a nice big walk down the Lagan Meadows and called into Nanny Boo Boos on the way back, Nanny Boo Boo was sitting pished off her face in the back garden.

She told me that My Protege has turned into a responsible young man and has been doing nice chores for her like keeping the garden tidy and trimmed and she buys his drink for him at the Winemark.

She also said that Fabian Wildman had been calling round and that he was saying he felt bad about acting the dick when he moved out. She said that she thinks Fabian is smoking the bad stuff again and she doesn't mean tea. She said that he's all bug eyed and has holes in his shoes and that only the other week he was telling her that he'd been dancing on the street hoping to get money but that he only managed 50p and that wasn't enough, and then he stopped before he said too much.

I told her that I thought Fabian was cyclicle with his addictions and that I'm sure he'll stop the crack soon enough.

She said that we were always good mates and that I should forgive and forget. I'm not convinced. The only thing he's gotten in touch about is collecting some socks.

I told her he has my number and that he knows where I live if he wants to get in touch and she said that she thinks he's too proud. I told her people with holes in their shoes don't have room for pride.

She stopped talking about it then because neither of us want to have an arguement, she brought out a big bottle of red wine and I got pished and boked all the way home, nearly a good day.

A wee boke not far from Nanny Boo Boo's.

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.

On The Day That JD Salinger Died

Hot Baby Roy and Wino Jo are on the huff since I stopped them making dicks out of themselves in front of the Leotard Girl, no sweat guys. You're fucking welcome.

Anyways I took myself off down to Stranmillis because I've got to sort out My Protege, Nanny Boo Boo says he was up shouting out the front of her house and she told him to go away. He told her to suck his balls and she told him she would when they dropped. Then he burst into tears and ran away screaming.

I told her I would twist his balls for him, but I won't.

I'm going to give him one last chance to not be a dick and if he doesn't take it he's in trouble.

I found him outside Cutters Wharf human beatboxing. When he saw me coming he started screaming:

"He's gay! He's gay! He wears women's clothes!"

There weren't any passers by so no one but me gave a fuck.

I walked up to him and put my copy of Catcher in the Rye in his hands and told him all about JD Salinger being dead and how this was the book for him. This was my next lesson.

He took it and kicked it into the River Lagan.

I told him there and then that I was going to do something really nasty to him but I wasn't going to do it now, I wasn't going to tell him when, it might be soon or I might wait a few years but either way at some point I was going to do something really fucking nasty and when I did it he'd know that he deserved it for being a wee ballbag.

He screamed and ran away. I pinged a stone after him and it hit him on the head and he fell on his hoop with another scream. That isn't the nasty thing, and to be honest it's not even a taster. He's in trouble.

January Friend

I'm really down today, and I haven't been in a long while, or at least when I was I didn't notice because I was too busy with work or being ill or trying to sort out Wino Jo and Hot Baby Roy, but now I feel it.

I phoned off work today and took Battle Cat for a long walk down the Lagan Meadows and told him that I was sorry we didn't hang out as much any more but I was busy and I'd try to make it up to him. He didn't seem to mind too much and wagged his tail happily as we walked.

I told him how I was down about my protege being such a wee wanker, all the stuff Nanny Boo Boo said he was up to just makes him sound like the nastiest wee wanker around. He needs a good kick in the hole, I remember Nanny Boo Boo one told me to kick him so hard I broke his tailbone but I knew better. I was all into teaching him like some old fucker in a kung-fu movie, and I did try but he's learned fuck all. It just makes me want to beat the shit out of him. But then I remember how nice and sympathetic he was when I was sitting crying down by the river that time. I'll figure out.

Then I asked him what he thought about Hot Baby Roy and Wino Jo. How the fuck is Hot Baby Roy getting so popular with the next door neighbours and not me. I've been living there longest. I've been trying to move forward with my life while he draws the dole and wanks all the time, when I used to do that I got nowhere with anyone.

We had walked way past Shaw's Bridge by the time I finished. Then I asked Battle Cat how he was doing and he woofed to say he was hungry.

I took him home and gave him a really big feed, he deserved it.

I sat up in my room listening to moody music on youtube until I came across this and it made me feel a wee bit better. I wonder who the girl is, it'd be cool if she lived nearby. I could find her.

Cleaning up Bad Stranmillis

I went down to see Nanny Boo Boo today. It seems that My Protege has turned into a right wee shite and is turning Stranmillis into a violent ghetto. I told her that it's time I took to the streets and kicked his ass Equalizer style.

I went and found the bozos he hangs with. Nanny Boo Boo says he shoots dope with them. I grabbed one of them by the arm and pointed at the track marks.

"Get clean, you flithy bastard."

I nutted the bozo in the face and asked where My Protege was. A girl said that he was in hiding from my big gay ways.

I kissed her passionately so she knew what thug passion was running in my viens.

She burst into tears and said she hopes she didn't catch STDs from me, her running with her dope shooting pals.

I told her I didn't have the STDS and I wasn't going to let them turn Stranmillis into a bad dope den.

Windy Day Sexy Fais

I stood in some glass this morning. I was pure raging I thought about that Bruce Lee movie where he makes the baddies eat paper and warns them that next time they act like muthafuckers he'll make them eat glass.

Still at least Battle Cat didn't stand in it. The wee bit of glass is stuck in my foot and I've tried wiggling it and putting it in a bucket of warm water but nothing.

Then I sat down for a good cry and watched the rubgy, did you see O'Driscoll's try at the end, good on you mutherfucker, class only wish we'd won instead of drawn.

Sat making a doll of My Protege so I could teach Battle Cat to attack him but I can't draw for shit and it ended up looking like Prince Harry, and Battle Cat would bite him anyway.

Broken Windows will Earn Someone a Broken Mouth

Sitting down watching Harry Hills TV Burp getting ready to support the Jedward Boys (by the way Derek Accorah is a funky dancer, who knew?) when a brick comes flying through the window. Luckily it missed Battle Cat, me and the TV. I jumped up and ran out. I knew who it was My Protege the wee bastard. What a wee fucker?

Like all bastard kids they were far away before I was even out the door, I just heard the wee fuckers cackling at the end of the street. It's a sad fucking day when some wee bastards want to bust your windows for wearing clothes.

I'm gonna get my protege and stick my foot so far up his arse my leg will disolve in his guts.

Come on Jedward.

Nanny Boo Boo and Me have a Talk

Nanny Boo Boo asked me to call down to hers after work today. She had a cup of tea and nice buns all laid out when I came in.

She said that My Protege had been round balling his wee eyes out about how I was a big puff and sitting in front of the TV drunk in women's clothes and she hit him a clash round the face and told him to mind his own fucking business.

I knew Nanny Boo Boo would be cool about it even though some older fuckers can be right squares about that sort of thing. She said whatever I did was cool and that it was my own business and she could get me some nice tasty stuff or even kinky negligees out of her club book if I fancied it. I said thanks but I thought that might become awkward if I couldn't keep up the payments.

She said that My Protege was a wee wanker but that's just because of the age of him and she hasn't forgotten about what he did to the cats arses with bangers and she told him that if it wasn't for me My Protege would be selling his arse on the streets for freedbased cocaine and soda pop, and no one would touch the spotty wee bastard. She told him so, but she said that if he came around to my tranny ways then he'd be a successful man when he grows up.

This made me happy. Then she asked me if I'd a girl name for when I wore my clothes. I said Lily but this is balls. I don't go in for that shit. I'm just a man in tight spandex.

Busted in Drag

So there I was downing a full bottle of whiskey, wearing the oul drag and watching X-Factor on Saturday night, when I looks out the window and sees My Protege and one of his wee wanker mates standing outside.

My Protege had a face like beetroot (he's a big beetroot head at him but anyway) and his mate was pishing himself and shouting "he's so gay!"

"Here you wee bastard, come on in and my dog will eat you for saying that."

"I'm not going into your house, you're gay!" he shouted.

I opened the front door and walked out all Get Carter and said:

"Battle Cat eat this wee wanker."

Battle Cat ran out woofing and the wee fucker ran off. In truth Battle Cat would have just licked him but he wasn't to know and didn't stick around to find out.

"He's right," shouted My Protege "you're a fruit," and he ran off crying.

Fuck him. I just find it comfy.