Wino Jo hits the road

wino Jo came into the livingroom and spoke to me this morning. He said that he was going to go and visit the Fruitarian. I told him I was sick but when I was better then yes. He said he was going to go today.

He's going to stay long term at the Fruitarian's it'll be nice him sitting eating rotten bananas and tofu. I know he can't stand it but he takes what he's given (he's polite like that) and he knows to go when the money runs low, good old Wino Jo, fucker.

Sitting Sick on the Sofa

Sitting on the sofa with a big violent dog and a television allows you to take a different perspective on things than you normally do.

Today I observed:

T4 tends to pair white boys with ethnic girls for its presenting teams (I'm sure it's just been one big coincidence).

Stacy Slater killed Archie (shock horror!? Who the fuck was Archie?! I haven't watched Eastenders in years) and she makes Battle Cat try to hump the sofa.

The Canadian Bob Sleigh team had a nasty topple at high speed and headbutt the wall incident that they walked away from unharmed.

Curling is a sport for millies and their mothers (judging by the GB team), and for people who want to say "I brush ice for a living."

Early repeats of Friends remind us that 90s fashion only seemed okay because it came after the 80s.

Pop Star to Ringo Starr

My time spent sitting on the sofa has turned into convalescence (the last big word Book Boy ever taught me sniff sniff). I've been happed up with a blanket and me and Battle Cat have been watching shit like Pop Star to Opera Star, and trying to work out why Darius Danesh is now called Darius Campbell. I think they should make a show called Pop Star to Ringo Star where failed pop stars have to learn how to play some Ringo tracks on drums, read Thomas The Tank Engine stories and end it all by recording a big "Peace and Love" message saying they were retiring from showbiz.

Hot Baby Roy and Wino Jo have been acting weird and Hot Baby Roy isn't spending every night in the house anymore, I think he's going to fuck off and scab off another better off friend.

Wino Jo has been talking about where he's going to go now. I haven't told anyone I'm kicking them out but they both just want to fuck off now the good money is gone. I think I'm going to get Battle Cat to bite them, he's still young but he's big enough to chow down.

Back on the Dole and Dreams of Cheryl Cole

Sitting shivering at my desk yesterday and coughing so much I had to keep putting customers on hold, London Girl came over and said that I was spending an unacceptable amount of time on calls. I told her all about my cough and she said that she had noticed how much I'd been spitting in the bin and how this was unacceptable too.

I turned to my screen and spat on it a nice big green and red phlegm bomb.

She walked away all startled and Little My said "yer pure fucked naw."

Then a call came through on my phone and I said "You're not getting your money back," and hung up.

I braced myself as I saw Truffle Shuffle and The Huffy Tortoise coming waltzing across the floor with London Girl all startled and teary eyed.

The Huffy Tortoise waved his fingers at me to come here, I waved two fingers back at him to go away.

Then they said that I was to hand over my security pass and leave the building. I repeated my two fingered gesture and Truffle Shuffle grabbed my top.

"I told him if he didn't get his hands off me he'd be getting sued like the fat squaddie mutherfucker that he was."

The trio waltzed away again like a gang of mutherfuckers and five minutes later someone from HR came in and told me that I needed to leave or they'd be sending security to shift me.

I asked her when was I getting this months money and she said that I'd be paid on the normal date.

I stood up and went to make a rousing speech about how call centres are the modern day work factories that killed Victorian children but instead of us losing arms or legs these places took our souls! But I coughed and boked my ring up and slid all across the floor on it before these burly security guards ran into the room and grabbed me and fucked me out of there.

I stood out on the street and shouted that I'd be back with a snooker cue to fuck them up but when I got home I felt relieved that I was no longer in work and fell asleep having a sly wank to Cheryl Cole at the Brits, she'll be back on the market soon after Ashley has been exposed as a cheating scumbag. She wasn't wearing her wedding ring, maybe I could put one there.

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)

A Visit From The Raven Princess Spandex

It seems that talking Battle Cat for a walk on a pish freezing cold night and doing some good deeds along the way have made me sick. I'm lying in bed supping hot whiskey and milky broth.

The Raven Princess spandex was round and even though she wasn't here to see me it made me feel good having a sexy woman in the house while I was sick. Actually, I was a bit annoyed, why didn't she even stick her head upstairs and say hello, or aw sorry you're poorly? Why?

It's not really fair. If I'd have been at that party I'd have kung-fu flipped all the baddies out the window but all Hot Baby Roy has to do is get bitch slapped and he's someone girls sit round thinking about while listening to Mariah Carey. This isn't fair.

She was laughing and giggling away with him downstairs, and then he went up into his room and had a wank. I could hear it jingling.

I'm going to sleep for a bit.

Things better start looking up soon.

Fabian Wildman is Sick, and I'm Sad

Being skint is even worse when you get sick, and Fabian has the sniffles. I blame that bastard Clarence for us waking up in a cold house. Anyways because he was sick and didn't want to go outside it was up to me to go out and steal him some honey and Lemsips. It's a lot different shop lifting when you're not on crack, because when I was on crack I just lifted stuff and away I went but now I'm sober I'm all paranoid and walk round the shop about ten times trying to work out who's a store detective. It's pure balls I had to go to a supermarket because they keep the lemsips behind the counter in most of the wee shops round our way.

After getting home with all my goodies I found that Betty Blue had come round to play nurse for poor Fabian. It made me all glum because she already had lemsips and honey and I just had to take Battle Cat for a long walk. I asked him if he thought I'd ever find a girlfriend. He didn't answer but then again he probably didn't understand the question.

Texas Hold'em Night

Today I'm feeling better, I didn't mind being sick yesterday because it just pissed down all day. I just sat in bed with my lemsips and played poker on facebook . I didn't realise I was so ruthless, I play a hot handed cut throat style. Fast and loose, that's my style. I don't even watch the cards. I just watch the other players. I bet aggressively in an attempt to win big, and if I lose? So what? The next big win is never far away. I'm glad though, sometimes, that it's not real money I'm playing with.

Fabian Wildman was telling me about the one's at the party. Betty Blue is going to bring a few of them over here some night soon and we'll have another party and I can show them that I'm really cool.

He said Betty Blue didn't know who the girl was (the gurl that is). He asked if I was sure I hadn't imagined her. I told him no, and asked how dare he say that about me.

He said that I did used to sit and have conversations with a daemon that wasn't really there. I told him that our daemons are always there and that one in particular has a seat in Stormont and Westminster, but I didn't want to talk about him.

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.

Still Ill

I'm still sick in bed so I've not much to report but I've been tagged by bloggerKiller, so I have to tell you eight pointless things. He's already tagged Well Done Fillet so I won't tag him but thought I'd direct you his way all the same.

Anyway here are my eight pointless things:

1) I now own a dog but I always wanted a pet pig.

2) My favourite Doctor Who is Colin Baker (the supposedly unpopular one).

3)I was once in a music video for the pop band Ash, but my part ended up on the cutting room floor.

4) My favourite singer is Ashanti but if she were ugly this wouldn't be the case.

5) Michael Caine is a distant relative of mine but we've never met.

6)I have completed a rubik's cube five times in my life.

7) I don't have a criminal record.

8) My favourite thing to shoplift if shampoo.

Now these people have to give you a cool eight:

Nelly's Garden

Obnoxio The Clown

Dave

Hannah

I believe that you heard your master sing, while I was sick in bed

I've been lying around the house today. I woke up with that bloody cold that's been doing the rounds. I'm in bed streaming movies and the like. I've been catching up with the guys and gals of Heroes. I'd sort of lost interest near the end of the last series and the closer felt a bit like they were covering up all the balls ups they'd made in the last series.

That said the new series is kicking ass and they've got back a lot of the good old series 1 feel. I was thinking though that while a lot of the Heroes have cool powers (Matt Parkman can make people his bitches [if he wants], Claire Bennet can fuck herself up and live and Peter Petrelli can steal other people's powers - rock on) there must be some heroes out there with crap powers too: The woman who can smell things on television, or the man who can make bumble bees come out his arse (see what I did there with the whole PC thing - Peace Out).

I found this adult version of Stop the Pigeon on a local music forum (of all places) and it made me chuckle. It's what Byker Grove probably should have sounded like:



I'm going to have more lemsips and go back to sleep.

Big Old Plans (or new ones)

Getting off crack is exhausting work and spending a lot of Tuesday down the Lagan Meadows really took it out of me. I've been sick in bed ever since. Fabian Wildman gave me a cough bottle and made a joke about how I'm using it for its intended purpose for once.

Being in bed has given me more time to weigh up my situation. I haven't heard from any of my neighbours since but I'll take that as a good thing, for now.

Battle Cat has been up keeping my feet warm and I've been talking to him about how I'm going to stay off crack and get a job and do cool stuff. I'm not sure what yet but I'll figure it out I'm sure.

The first thing I'm going to do is burn my bedsheets because he's just pissed on them. But for now I'll have a wee snooze (no pun intended).