Love, oh Love, I wanna tell you how I feel about you

Hot Baby Roy didn't come back last night either. I don't know if he pulled or if something bad happened to him. I'm not sure but I'd suspect he pulled even though both are likely.

I called his phone a few times but he never answered. Instead it gave a ring and went straight to voicemail.

I sat in and watched Eurovision all evening. It was funny seeing the UK come last, they always get it so wrong. The song and the singer were just boring. I think the German entry was the best by miles and I'm going to write a clawing fan letter to the girl asking her do a show in Belfast and offering her a place to stay at mine. I think I'll be the first Northern Irish Person she gets a letter from because I went out first thing this morning. (I'd downed the rest of Hot Baby Roy's birthday vodka and sat up waiting for the post office to open). Here's a draft of it (the one I posted was much smoother but not much different).

Dear Lena

Your song is so cool, you should do a gig in Northern Ireland. You have lots of fans here (especially me and my dog). We were dancing around the living room both times they played your song and if you were to play in Belfast you could stay at my house. I was a little disapointed that you wanted a kiss from Alexander Rybak when you won but that's a good sign for me getting one of my own (is it?).

Yours

T.

Would You Fuck Iris Robinson?

We sat round in work today discussing who'd fuck Iris Robinson. It turned out no one would apart from Kissy Boy, and it wasn't because he was a big DUP fan but more that he said she had a certain way with her, a sparkle in her smile, but when the girls were away he said that she was a dirt bird and he wouldn't touch her, even for £50000, even if he'd a few bottles of champaigne in him that she bought for him and she was wearing "proper gear" underneath one of her tacky overpriced Lisburn Road "boutique" affairs (no pun intended).

He was getting a bit worked up about it, and I started to suspect he'd only been telling a half truth about not wanting her, but he was saved by an interuption from another member of staff Fat Mo. Fat Mo doesn't say much but he had plenty to say about us slagging off The First Lady. He said that she was the third most important woman in the UK after The Queen and Sarah Brown.

No would could argue against this because no one could be arsed explaining politics to Fat Mo. He went on to say that to think about Iris Robinson was a woman not to be thought of in a sexual way and only a scumbag like Kirk McCambly would do something as outrageous as this. His eyes went all fucked up when he said this like he could almost not comprehend how the guttersnipe had dared to even speak to her.

Little My said that McCambly was a cutie and Book Boy says he looked like the sort of kid people slagged off at school for fucking citrus fruits. Probably, none of us could be sure.