My New Buddy

We had a bunch of new starts in work today, they were doing this thing where they sat with us on the phones for a day and we let them listen to us being professional and showing them the ropes.

Whores Bastard was among them for some reason. Me and Little My told the rest of our group about him. Book Boy says they'll let any old shite in because call centres are on the skids and it's better than putting them in jail. We all gave each other "it's not me, it's you" eyes.

The fellah I had was this wee balding eighteen year old who kept rubbing his crotch when he thought I was watching the computer screen. I asked him what his problem was and he nodded over at the twelve foot amazon sitting purring down the phone beside Kissy Boy (how does the lucky bastard do it!)

"I want to lick her legs," he said in the keenest voice I've ever heard.
"You'd have a dry tongue by the time you got to the top of them," I shrugged. I didn't want him to know I was jealous!
"I'd love a little girl of my own," he whinned, he was half in tears and openly rubbing himself down in front of me.
"She's not a little girl," I said. "You'd need a stepladder to give her a kiss."
"She could lift me up," he said. "I'd love that."
"Shut up for fucksake, people are watching us."
"I'm putting in a complaint about this," said the customer.

I hadn't hung up properly. Fuck this I'm so sick of dickheads. I told him I'd his address and if he put in a complaint he'd be getting a visit. I'd spend my last penny on the plane.

Happy St. Patrick's day

Last night being St. Patricks there was a party on at the sweaty metallers' house and the whole street was invited except for me and Fabian Wildman. He doesn't really care though because he's fast turning into some low rent Ian Beale. It's bollocks.

I decided not to go round and trash the party so instead I got me a few cans and went down along the Lagan Meadows for a melancholy day. I hadn't gone far when I spotted a torn page lying on the ground.

Dear Diary

Today most totally rocked. I was at a party and all the gang were there. Julie, Peter, Chris, Cathy and Simon. That total bitch Cathy was there and she had been a total bitch about me pissing myself in her dad's taxi when I was drunk, everyone laughed at me and they weren't really talking much. I didn't like it. Chris threw himself down the stairs in an attempt to look cool (as if) and it almost worked until he broke his wrist (ha ha ha ha ha ha ha) and he went to causalty in tears. What a wanker? Eh, Peter and Julie had a big fight and Simon started boking all over himself in the middle of it, we all have a good laugh. I called him a fat wanker but nobody laughed. I wanted to go out and make fun of him but Julie started to cry. Peter left the house in a bad mood and I got to give her a big hug.

I wish he was you, she kept saying. The back of my forearm rubbed against her breast.



there it all ended. I wondered who wrote it. Anyways I almost didn't notice a girl sitting beside me on the bench crying.

I asked her what was wrong and she spoke with an American accent. She said she had come here because she wanted to do St Patricks in Ireland, and when she found cheap deals for Belfast she just thought that was the Protestant name for Dublin. She was staying in the International Hostel on the Donegal Road and she thought it looked nice but that there was rioting outside and all these people spitting at her and saying mean stuff about the Pope. I took her in my arms and rocked her gently. Then I took her back to my house for a hot fuck. She left at 5am to get a plane back to the states. After the hot love I gave her I bet she could just fly there herself on the intensity of an orgasm.