My Year

So I started this blog just after my birthday last year and what a year it's been. I've been sitting back taking stock of everything that's happened.

I started it because I was always going round in circles and getting into the same old crap.

I can say though that in this past year I've given up crack, started looking after a pet, joined and been kicked out of a sweaty heavy metal vomit rock and roll band and met a tonne of new people, some of which are good friends. Not just that but if you look down my side bar you'll see a load of other cool people you should check out.

That said here's a few wee stats about my year.

I've had 3 housemates - Fabian Wildman, Battle Cat and Hot Baby Roy (briefly)
I was going to count the number of fights I was in but I couldn't be arsed, you just need to know I won them all.
I've had sex a few times (not enough) and still have no girlfriend.
I started wearing leotards
I met someone who thinks that unicorns are an extinct species
I've been asked to watch Wild Child 143 times and said no 142.
I vomited in a woman's mouth (and she vomited in mine)
I saved a few people from unjustly getting their balls kicked.
I forged a member of Razorlight's autograph (to stop someone going to the police)
I cried a bit but I laughed a lot
I sniffed a few felt tips
I shoplifted loads
and I may or may not have licked the bowl (some people may wonder though).

I've not had a job but as of yesterday I have now found one and I start my pish call centre training on Monday. Wish me luck!

A nice Suprise

Yesterday started off really pish. I went and bought more booze and went down to Tomb St Carpark where all the Emo kids hang out but it was too pish for them to be out so
I sat by myself listening to cars passing overhead. Then I took a walk out Corporation Square and watched the boats leave. Lucky bastards. Someday maybe me.

Then I walked home pished and pissed off. I stopped in at an internet cafe and tried to look up porn but the guy behind the counter kept staring at my screen so I could only see parts of a naked lady as I had to shrink the window and scroll.

I still haven't heard back about my job.

When I got home I found my key wouldn't work in the lock, some wee bastard probably tried to pick it. I hoped I'd get in round the back, that or maybe one of the neighbours would let me kip over at theirs.

Battle Cat ran to the back gate when I jumped over it and jumped up on me and started licking me.

"Hello pup, at least you're glad to see me," I said. He woofed in agreement.

The backdoor was easily opened but I'd no sooner got inside than the lights went on and everyone shouted "surprise!"

There was Nanny BooBoo, Hot Baby Roy, My Brothers (apart from the hot shot banker),My Protege The Sweaty Metallers, The Banshee, The Indie Kid, even Rock and Roll Stephen (who invited him?), Good King Thumpo (this could be trouble), and two girls I didn't know (my new neighbours).

I didn't have a chance to say anything before they launched into a big chorus of Happy Birthday. This was rock and roll at it's best.

After everything I didn't know what to say, I was a bit overwhelmed because I hadn't mentioned it to anyone and I hadn't planned on celebrating it.

Battle Cat saved me by coming padding in wagging his tail. He's grown so much in the past year.

"Right let's get some cake in you," said Nanny BooBoo. Then the party took off Rock and Roll style with everyone coming up to me and giving me presents and pats on the back.

Nanny BooBoo gave me a leather jacket (because in her day that's what cool dudes wore), Hot Baby Roy gave me a DVD of Wild Child ("no excuses for not watching it now," he said). The Indie Kid gave me a piece of paper that said No Hard Feelings signed Johnny Borrell, My Protege gave me some cans of spray paint which I'm sure he's stolen but he was talking about how we can do some cool graffiti together, my Metaller brother gave me a Phil Collins CD which actually had a Metallica one inside it and a post it saying - this is real Heavy Metal. Then there were all the typical bottles of assorted booze that we were going to get pished on throughout the evening.

The party was in full swing and I was having a great time running round everyone blabbing shite. My metaller brother was having a great time talking to the sweaty metallers who seemed to be getting on again (there was talk of them starting another band). I said thanks to Nanny BooBoo because I knew that it could only be her who organised it. She said that it was nothing I was always doing things to help out other people, so she thought it was time someone did something nice for me.

After a while the booze started to run low so I popped out to get some more. It was pretty late and the off-licence near me was closing. It (like a lot of fucking shops in Belfast) always closes about ten minutes before it's supposed to.

There knocking on the door was Hooka, she looked so different, she'd none of the goth witch look about her anymore, all blonde hair and pink flourescent tights.

"Hey Hooka, how've you been?" I said.
"Who are you?" she said.
"It's me, Tuesday Kid."
"Oh," she said. Then went back to knocking the door.

We weren't getting booze there. I walked off to a place I know sells it after hours (can't say where, I'd feel shit if it got busted because of me). Seeing Hooka was fucking strange.

Not as strange though as turning the next corner and seeing Fabian Wildman leaning on the gate post at the edge of someone's garden. He leaned over and boked all over the footpath.

"Tuesday Kid," he said seeing me. "You better not stick around, Mother of Bowling Ball's inside. if he comes out it'll be bad."

"Fuck him, why aren't you at my party? Why haven't you been round?"

"I've been busy with other things he said. Sandcastles came out. She took one look at me, then gave Fabian a kiss and went back inside.

"So you're not with Betty Blue anymore?" I asked.

"No, it's me and Sandcastles now, we're heading for the goal line," he said. I don't think he meant it. He'd a hole in his shoes and his clothes looked pretty dirty. He's going back into one of his phases where he sits around doing fuck all but getting wasted. I can't see her sticking with him then.

"You're a bastard, after all I did to help you out and you just shrug and fuck off with your dick head mates."

"Things are taking shape for me," he said. "You're going through some things, you need to sort them out for yourself."

"I gave you a place to live, I lied to the cops for you."

He pulled some face like this was no big deal. I wasn't to me but I could just as easily have let them arrest him.

I wanted to hit him but Mother of Bowling Ball came running out.

"So, you're Tuesday Kid? Let's see you act tough now," he said.

I dropped him with one punch.

"Fuck you," I said to Fabian Wildman, then I fucked off up the road. I even forgot to get the booze, I just went back to mine.

It was strange seeing him and Hooka. In a way I'd no bad feelings towards her. She looked like she's sorted herself out a bit, I always got the impression that she wasn't so happy with being a witch, Fabian though just looked like he was bumming from one lot to the next working out how he can get wasted and fuck about.

I went back to mine and found my party was getting a bit of a shambles too.

The Sweaty Metallers were squaring up and my metaller brother was getting in the middle telling them to take it easy. Rock and Roll Stephen was shaking with fear close to tears and a big wet patch on his tight jeans as the pish flowed down his leg. Good King Thumpo had him backed into a corner and was getting ready to hit him.

Nanny BooBoo was trying to stop The Indie Kid and My Protege from fighting with blunt butter knives. What had went wrong?

"Friends," I said jumping up on the table. "If you really are my friends then listen to me. All I want you to do for me is one thing - be cool!"

"I told you he was fucking deep," said My Protege. Everyone nodded. Then this started playing.



Hot Baby Roy (who put the song on) lined us all up and got his camera out. He told us to look at it and shout "Who are we?"

A deep question indeed. Some people maybe look to me for the answer. I just realised it's not important to answer it.

Another Job Interview

My day with my protege really helped me yesterday.

I realised that I had to accept who I was and if other people had a problem with it screw them. What's important is that I'm okay with being me.

I thought about this all the way to my interview and I thought that when they asked me what I'd done I'd just say:

"Listen, I used to smoke crack, but now I don't. If any of you have a problem with that then you deal with it. I'm just setting out on my journey and I'm gonna screw up from time to time. If you don't like it then I'll screw your ma, wife and any legal age female offspring you might have."

I felt great. I felt okay being me.

In the interview when they asked me that question it was like a wake up call. That answer would get me nowhere.

"I've been travelling in foreign countries, very far away. There's no way they'd answer the phone to you."

They asked me where and I just rhymed off a load of names I wasn't sure if they were places I'd made up or places from films.

They looked pleased. Maybe I gave them a good laugh. They'd better give me the job. If they were just laughing at me they're getting broken windows and a fucked family.

My Protege Teaches Me

I took the Death Owl's money and went and bought a bottle of wine and sat down at the Lagan Lookout at Stranmillis.

I couldn't believe I was here on my own, with no job and pish all money. How the fuck had this happened?

How had I not found a job? or why wasn't I living somewhere nice? Or had a girlfriend? Cunts like the Death Owl seemed to be winning why I was a busted loser.

My protege came and found me. He told me he wanted a new lesson.

I asked him what could I teach him? In truth I'm a terrible teacher, and that's usually okay for my terrible students (he's not the first I've given knowledge to) but it wasn't okay for him.

He told me he thought I was badass and that he could learn how to be cool from my coolness and he knows that I've made mistakes and that's cool because he wants to learn from them too.

"Okay," I said. "Here's your last lesson: do as I say, not as I do," then I boked all over myself and burst into tears.

He gave me a hug and told me I was a great role model because I taught him that it was okay to cry if you were a badass.

A big snotter came out my nose. He didn't mention that.

Old Enemies Really Do Run Belfast

Yesterday I went for a job interview. It was a shitty call centre one. I was sitting in the reception all prepared to lie about my experience and intentions when I was called into a room with non other than The Death Owl and Mr Ponti. Except Mr Ponti wasn't really called Mr. Ponti, he was called Boris something or other.

They had big smug bastard grins written all over their faces when I sat down in front of them.

"So, if it isn't crack headed Tuesday Kid?" The Death Owl smirked. "Want a job do you?"
"That's right," I said trying to brush off the fact that I was sitting in front of two complete wankers that I'd hoped I'd never see again.
"We don't employ crack heads. Our business is serious. However..." the Death Owl said.
I sat waiting for him to finish.
"How is your dog?" said Mr Ponti.
"That's none of your busines," I replied.
"That's not very friendly," said the Death Owl. "Especially since you're wanting us to give you a job."
"Are you going to give me one?" I asked.
"I'll give you something else," said the Death Owl bringing out his majik wand.
He was about to zap me before I took off my shoe and threw it at him, snapping the wand into shite.

Mr. Ponti dived over the desk at me but I uppercutted him, knocking him clean out cold.

The Death Owl started dancing around the room.

"You're so dead," he said, "I'm a yellow belt in Karate now."

He pulled off some fancy Chuck Norris roundhouse but it missed me by miles. I pinned him up against the wall.

"I'll scream for help," he said.

"Do it," I shrugged. "They won't get here before I twist your balls."

He fainted right away. I spat a big drooly spittle all over his face.

Then I stole money from both their wallets. A result of sorts. Though not the one I was hoping for.

Pete Doherty Plays Belfast!!

The Indie Kid across the street threw a party last night. A kind of 'let's get the parties started' thing but later he told me (when totally pished and close to tears) that it had all been about getting some of the fine pussy across the street. She didn't show up but there was a motley cast of indie rock and rollers from around Belfast.

Rock and Roll Stephen was there, meaning business, wearing the tightest pair of women's jeans and the tightest perm and his mothers handbag. He'd a wee silver case full of rollies.

I told him he looked like he meant business and he said: "From now on things are going to be full on, with relationships and studying."

I winced and told him that I once met Johnny Borrell in Donaghadee (a lie but the Indie Kid will back me up because he thinks it's true).

For some reason Sexy Carlos was there and he was walking around bare chested with the words "Who do I trust? I trust me!" scrawled across his chest in red lipstick. A thing Rock and Roll Stephen told me he'd stolen from the Manic Street Preachers, I thought it was Scarface.

I got talking to this girl at the punch bowl who told me that she was going to comit suicide when she turned twenty one. I asked her what age she was and she said nineteen. I told her that she should extend it to twenty five because after school and uni there's a lot of fun to be had lying around on the dole playing computer games and smoking crack (if that's your thing, it's not mine any more).

She told me that what I'd just said was profound. I smiled like a dog who's just realised it can lick it's own balls. I pretty much talked to her the rest of the night giving out half-wisdoms which she pretty much lapped up like a cat who'd been left out a bowl of milk by people who aren't it's owners.

Rock and Roll Stephen nearly spoiled it by bringing out a guitar and shouting:

"Who says Pete Doherty can't come to Belfast. Rock and Roll Stephen brings Pete Doherty right here!"

Then he started playing some Pete Doherty but no one really listened. I was glad when he fucked off home in tears.

New Neighbours?

The wee Indie Fan across the street is back now for uni. I hadn't realised he'd gone until I passed him on the street and he asked me all the gossip over the summer. Turns out he knew as much as I did. (I think he might read this blog). He asked why the sweaty metallers moved out.

I told him it was lady trouble.

He laughed and said: "Was it over yer doll that sang for them? You'd tap her alright, she wasn't there because of her voice that's for sure."

Then he did some weird oos and aas that sounded like her only more in tune.

Then he said that a fitter doll had moved in in her place. He saw her this moring going out for a jog.

"Lovely thing," he kept saying.

I think he might have got his hole for the first time over the summer because now he's talking like he's Crocket and Tubbs rolled into one big cherry tying ball of spunk.

"Is there a guy there too?" I asked.

"Not that I've seen," he said. "If there is he won't be too hard to see off."

Yes he's had his hole. Lucky boy. I just hope he doesn't get his legs broke by the new girl's man (if she has one, if she hasn't it might be me doing the leg breaking).

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.

Tuesday Kid the Teacher - Another Lesson

The post brought me two letters, both interviews for jobs I've applied for. Both call centre shit but I can do the training and fuck off before I have to start the post.

My protege was waiting for me in Stranmillis today. I was glad to see him because I was eager to undo any damage meeting Hot Baby Roy might have done. I shouldn't have been worried.

"That guy was a wanker," my Protege said.

"He can be okay," I said, "try not to become like him."

"I won't I've got you teaching me how to be the coolest," he said (thereabouts). "Last night I was getting pished with my mates and we kicked fuck out of someone. Just some dick who was walking around minding his own business."

I hit him a boot up the hole.

"What the fuck was that for?" he said.

I dug him in the guts.

"There, you don't like getting beat up for fuck all," I said. "Neither did he, that's today's lesson."

"We gave him a worse kicking than that," he said.

Then I put him in a head lock and gave him a duck egg. He ran away crying.

Tuesday Kid Brings Knowledge to the Streets

After the other day I decided it's time I took more interest into my Protege. I don't want him to become another version of me. I want him to be better.

I went down Stranmillis to find him and ran into Hot Baby Roy.

"This is a bit out of your stomping ground," I said.

"Not at all," said Hot Baby Roy. "The joggers, the fine athletic wear on the nice women here."

I told him that someone would twist his balls if they caught him perving. He snorted and said that he could take care of himself.

I told him that the joggers didn't take too kindly to being leered at.

Then my protege came along and said that he needed another lesson.

Hot Baby Roy said. "Tell girls a fake name, but one that sounds similar to your real name, so you can say they misheard if you like them."

"Hot Baby Roy stop corrupting him. I'm teaching him knowledge to get him off the streets."

Hot Baby Roy looked all shocked.

"Tell him how to get his hole and he'll be fine, he'll work out the rest if he needs to," he said.

Then he went off to perv at jogger ladies.

I turned to my protege and said, "if you ever find yourself in the company of ginger people, make your excuses and run before they learn your name."

Tuesday Kid The Teacher - Lesson Number 3

After Spitboke stopped crying she left. She did give me her number and I think I'm going to call her but I don't hold out much hope for it. It's probably the flirt divert. I used to phone it sometimes when I was bored and leave sappy messages that bordered on unhinged, in the hope of getting on the radio but then I got paranoid that the cops would be tracking my number so I changed it. This better not happen again.

I went for a walk down to Stranmillis because I think it's time I had it out with my protege. What can he possibly learn from me other than not to do the things I've done?

I eventually found him with some of his mates. He said they were going to go and smash some windows. Then it hit me. He was about to make all the mistakes I've already made.

I told him that smashing windows was fun but that someday he'll smash the wrong windows and get his legs broke. He said it was okay because they only broke old people's windows. I hit him a clash in the face and told him that I'd a friend who was old that lived in Stranmillis and if he smashed her windows he'd get his legs broke by me.

"You see, I said to him, lesson number three: You can't judge people by who you think they are. E.g just because someone is old doesn't mean there isn't a hard bastard brimming with thug passion standing behind them with a baseball bat."

One of his spidey mates said: "Tuesday Kid's got knowledge."

I was so proud. I felt like Furious in Boyz in the Hood.

We Like The Cars The Cars That Go Boom

The metaller girl was up by the time I got up this morning. She looked frightened. I asked her what the matter was. She said that she'd boked in her sleep and it was all over the bed and she was scared that I'd be angry. I took a look at it and it wasn't all my spitboke.

I laughed and said that I'd be putting the sheets in the wash later and it was no bother. She still looked really worried.

I asked her if she wanted some breakfast. She said yes. I went down to see what was in the cupboard there was fuck all so I told her I was off to the shop. I went and got some great breakfast stuff.

When I got back from the shop Battle Cat had really worked his puppy magic and she'd made friends with him.

I wanted to ask her how come her and her mate like to hang out with guys like Good King Thumpo but I didn't want to turn this into an interogation.

She asked if I played football. I told her no and she burst into tears.

I didn't understand why, that's not the first time that's happened to me.

How to pull Metaller Girls

I went out with Good King Thumpo tonight because I was trying to get to the bottom of how he pulls. I can't stand it anymore. So I went and found the greasy tattooed bastard hassling the Alternative Ulster staff in Charlie's Coffee Shop.

I told him I wanted to go for beers and pool. I meant pull but he's a thick bastard and doesn't know better.

He lost two games to six. I told him that he'd have more luck trying to miss. He said he'd see about luck when it came to getting sex with girls tonight.

Anyway at about ten we went off and tried to meet hot metal ladies. It was horrible. Rock and Roll Stephen was there. He told us that his mother caught him trying to use her curlers and kicked his shite in. His dad then kicked him out because he was ashamed that Rock and Roll Stephen couldn't even beat up a woman.

Rock and Roll Stephen went to the bar and Good King Thumpo's first question was: "Is he gay?" I said no but Good King Thumpo spat out when I said this.

I stood and waited to talk to sexy metal girls but all Good King Thumpo did was shout "Yeow! Look at your tits!" when they walked past.

I thought this is bollocks but then a few of them came up smiling and all Good King Thumpo had to do was say "He looks so gay!" when some skinny jeaned prick walked past. I couldn't believe they liked this but they smiled and swooned. Good King Thumpo was loving it. I thought the girls were dumb for acting like this but I played along and said it myself a few times. Particularly at Rock and Roll Stephen who visably winced. Fuck him I'd a heavy metal girl home with me to fuck. Yeow!

I took her back to mine for Tuesday Kid love but after that she went to sleep. She told me she wanted to be in IN Magazine one day but I didn't really listen. She went to sleep and I spat on her. Not exactly true love eh?

Nanny Boo Boo meets My Fruitarian Brother

Nanny Boo Boo called round today. She said she hadn't seen me properly since she'd got back and she told me how cool it was in London she went on the London Eye and it makes the one at city hall look like a ferris wheel. I was glad she'd had a good time there.

She asked me who did the suspicious DVDs belong to. I told her about Hot Baby Roy and his concussion.

"Is this a new project of yours?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're always taking in these strays, they don't thank you for it, except for this one." " she said winking at Battle Cat, who thumped his tail off the floor and woofed.

I asked her if she'd seen Fabian Wildman. She said he called round once but he was strange. He seemed a bit through other. She thinks he's a bit up his arse these days. She gave him some madera cake and he didn't touch it or his cup of tea.

My fruitarian brother called round and things were very strained. Nanny Boo Boo was very polite and he sat their looking like the wanted to talk about something with me.

I knew things would erupt if I left the room but I needed a pish so badly I didn't sit more than five minutes with the two of them. I hadn't finished in the bogs when I could hear them arguing from the top of the stairs. Nanny Boo Boo was saying that they were bastards for holding an intervention for me when I'd been sorting myself out for ages. The Fruitarian was trying to defend himself saying he'd just went along with it rather than planned it but Nanny Boo Boo wasn't buying any of it, she told him that he should call round more on social visits and not just when he has something he needs sorting out. Like running round getting frostbite on his hairy arse sitting under pear trees. Oh yes, she new all about it and him boking in a wee kids hair and nearly getting me into a fight.

When I came down the Fruitarian said he had somewhere he had to be and went with a big red face on him.

Good King Thumpo Can Get a Shag?

Hot Baby Roy went home yesterday. He took Wild Child with him still unwatched. I think it's his favourite film. He left the others lying scattered on the floor. I came downstairs to find Battle Cat chewing the S Club 7 box. I took it from him and he barked angrily. I'd forgotten he was in the room when Hot Baby Roy stuck it on.

"Don't give me any of your cheek wee lad," I said to him and he wandered off into the kitchen.

I went for a day on the rob because I was pissed off at being skint. There's no fucking jobs anywhere. I applied for an admin one the other day and haven't heard fuck all back. I ran into Good King Thumpo who was bragging about some doll he pulled in Laverys the other night, "a wee rocker chick," he kept saying. He was nearly crying he was that happy.

"I love heavy head girls, pure leathal! Unless their into that voodoo shite, I went out with a doll who was and she was a fucking head wrecker. I love the oul heavy stuff though, see when you come home at night with your head roared, Megadeth! Fucking Megadeth! Tell the neighbours to fuck aff it's time for Megadeth!"

Then he did some air guitar and talked about how Dave Mustane was a big ginger bastard. Then I remembered that the voodoo chick he was talking about was Hooka.

I imagined them slam dancing to Megadeth and felt a tear run down my cheek. How can Good King Thumpo get lucky? He's fucking covered in tattoos. It's a good tactic though it detracts from him going bald.

Hot Baby Roy Has Brought His Video Collection To Stay

Hot Baby Roy is still here. And if it wasn't that I liked the company I'd kick him out. He has so far brought round 10 Things I Hate About You (which I enjoyed - Heath Ledger RIP), She's All That (which sucked), Slap Her She's French (which I slept through), S Club 7 Seeing Double (which I told him he could watch on his own) and Wild Child (which I still have to watch).

He's been very nice to Battle Cat (which is a smart way to get in my good books) though he's made a few mistakes (he tried to share a chocolate orange with him).

His concussion seems to be clearing up, as much as someone like Hot Baby Roy can be clear. He sleeps in Fabian Wildman's old room and has gone home a few times to get clean underwear and clothes. He's had showers but he doesn't use soap. He says water is enough and it leaves the sexy smell for the ladies.

I asked him what if he had eaten onions or garlic, that stuff comes out your pours.

He said he didn't eat these foods and that he makes sure he has at least one aphrodisiac a day. This includes a portion of Pumpkin Seeds, Oysters (which he can never find nor afford), Chocolate, Strawberries or Lemonade.

I didn't ask him how come he never pulls. Here we fucking go.