Humpy Fuckers

I was out walking Battle Cat today when I saw Good King Thumpo. He was all angry and shaking his fist at some oul man out walking his dog.

I asked him how he was and he told me that he had split up with his girlfriend. I didn't know he had a girlfriend but his sort always do (hard fuckers who lick to kick people's fuck in).

I asked him who his girlfriend was and he told me it was some wee hippy doll who did voodoo. The more he talked about it the more it sounded like Hooka and I remembered how crap that had went and I asked him a bit more about her and yes she did indeed have a cat called Gobbolino and a few other things.

Battle Cat woofed excitedly when Gobbolino was mentioned, and I hoped Good King Thumpo wouldn't twig that they used to be mates.

On the one hand I was glad she'd split up from Fat Rab but I started wondering why the fuck she'd went out with Good King Thumpo and not me.

Then Good King Thumpo said he didn't think she was over he last boyfriend. This sucked even more. I told Good King Thumpo he should kick fuck out of him, I hope he does, just for old times sake.

I'm now on Facebook by the way so if you want to be my mate then click on this

She's Leaving Home

So yeah I woke up yesterday to see big removal vans outside Hooka and Fat Rab's house. So I went out because if they're moving I wanted to say goodbye to Hooka (and act menacing towards Fat Rab) but they had left yesterday and the removal van was just coming past to take a few big things out of the house.

I felt really shit because I thought Hooka would at least have said goodbye. I went in and told Fabian Wildman and he told me that it was a good thing because I could go out and find someone else because Hooka was a dick anyway. He also said he felt sorry for me because he'd read my blogs about her and he knew my feelings were genuine. Then I went and read all my old blogs about her and I realised I've been feeling really down recently, and mostly about her.

So here's a list of things that are good about her moving away:

1) No more Angry Anderson through the walls.
2) No more Death Owl next door.
3) People might forget about me pissing through their letter-box
4) I don't have to train Battle Cat to kill (see number 2)
5) We might get some fun neighbours who don't worship the devil
6) Fabian Wildman might stop having nightmares (see number 2, again)
7) I might stop being a moody bastard
8) Sometimes I'd be sitting out in the garden and all I could smell was burnt sage from some hokus-pokus affair. No more of that.
9) I won't have to witness the police dragging them out of the house in the middle of the night covered in goat's blood
10) I won't get done for assault for kicking the face off Fat Rab (it came close).

So there we go, my feelings for Hooka were like a ball of wool: soft, but terribly tangled. That's my last word on the subject and here's the lovely Avril Lavigne expressing how I don't feel about her leaving

In The Death Owl's House

I broke into the Death Owl's today. I went round and knocked his door and waited for hours but he never showed up.

I went round the back of the house and bust in. It was easy enough done. Houses round the Holy Lands are made out of plywood and spit.

Fabian's old room has loads of pictures pinned to the wall of him sleeping and a really freaky one of Mr Ponti, Fat Rab and The Death Owl all round his bed while he's lying sleeping. I don't know who took it. I hope to fuck it wasn't Hooka.

I bust into the Death Owl's room. There was nothing in it but a sleeping bag on the floor. A stack of old dusty books (probably grimoires) and a wardrobe.

I looked in the wardrobe and found loads of pairs of black robes in it and a spool of rope.

I turned round to see that he'd stuck loads of strips of paper above where he has his sleeping bag with all these motivational phrases like: "don't waste your time on people who don't give a shit about you", "this is the first day of the rest of your life" and, this one I had to read twice to make sure I hadn't imagined it "you'll meet a lot of dickheads in your life, but it's worth it to meet that one really special person". I felt a wee bit sorry for him. I took another look at his stack of books and saw that most of them were self help books: "Fear is the Friend of Exceptional People," "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway".

All that weird, scary satanic stuff started to make a bit more sense, and if he hadn't been such a dick to me and Fabian I might have wanted to be a bit nicer to him.

I left the house and decided to break the news to Fabian. He wasn't there. He's been staying at Betty Blue's since they got back last night.

Valentines Dud

It took me a while to realise it but the Death Owl must have been out on a Valentines date with his honey babe. Some weirdo satanist girl called Esmarelda or something spooky. It wasn't until I heard Fat Rab and Hooka blasting Angry Anderson through the walls that I clocked this. So with everyone else loved up I drank a few more beers and fell asleep. I'm lonely and nobody knows it but me:

A Visit From The Death Owl

We had a visit from the Death Owl today, or more to the point I did. Fabian had taken Battle Cat for a walk and I was sitting round the house wondering if I could lick the bowl when the door went.

"Hello Tuesday Kid," he said with an overly friendly voice that didn't match the sneer on his face.

"Hello Death Owl," I answered. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, give this to Fabian Wildman," he said reaching me an envelope.

I thought he was here to try to get revenge for Fat Rab and Hooka. The envelope was already opened so I looked in it.

It was a court summons for his shoplifting.

"Here, I'm not giving it to him," I said reaching him the envelope.

"Too late," he smirked pulling his hands away.

"You shouldn't have taken this," I said to him. "You should have said you didn't know where he was."

"But I did know," he smirked. The he walked off up the road. He was wearing his full satanic robes. I don't know why spides don't kick his fuck in. Maybe they're scared of satan.

Poor Fabian. I think we need to teach the Death Owl a lesson.

1 Day Off Crack

I couldn't sleep last night, I think I managed to drift off for twenty minutes here and there but nothing like proper sleep. Anyways I heard Fabian Wildman take Battle Cat for a walk and when he came back he called me down to the kitchen.

"Okay so It's been 24 hours since your last smoke of crack," he said. "So me and Battle Cat have got you a cake for your one day anniversary."

"Thanks," I said, I was a bit overwhelmed because I really wasn't expecting this.

"You see when you've done a week we'll have another, then every month, then so on. You know."

"Aw I already owe you a day, week and month one," I said.

"Never worry," he said. "Let's eat cake."

"Woof!" said Battle Cat.

We were tucking into some cream cake when there was a knock on the door.

Fabian went to answer it. I heard him talking to Fat Rab and Hooka. They sounded angry. They were shouting about the police.

Fabian invited them in.

"There's some people here to see you," he said.

"That wee indie wanker across the street videoed you on his mobile not only pouring milk through our door, but pissing in it too."

I shrugged.

"You'd need to do better than that," Fat Rab said. "Unless you want to wake up some night to some of our occult mates kicking your door in."

"Tuesday Kid here is celebrating giving up crack," Fabian Wildman said. "He did a lot of stuff on crack that he can't remember, so if he can't remember it, everyone else should forget it."

I looked at Hooka but there was nothing soft in the way she looked at me.

"We're going to the fucking police," Fat Rab said all smug. "Then we'll set the lads on you."

"Fine, we'll stab the pair of you," Fabian said.

Hooka gave a wee sound like she was scared, and Fat Rab tried to look like he wasn't scared but it was obvious he hadn't expected Fabian's answer.

"It's okay," Fabian said. "We won't kill you. But we'll stab some of your satanist mates too, especially the Death Owl. I know none of you dicks can fight for fuck."

Fat Rab and Hooka just stood there looking stunned.

"Right now if you've said your piece, fuck off," Fabian said motioning at the door.

"We're gonna party down, they can go fuck themselves," he said taking a bit mouthful of cake.

Satanists 1 Crackhead 0

Hooka called round my house this morning.

She asked if she could come in. I wouldn't have invited her otherwise. We went into the kitchen and I offered her a cup of coffee. She asked for tea.

We sat and I let her speak first.

"I'm sorry I didn't come and meet you yesterday," she said.

I shrugged.

"Listen Tuesday Kid I like you but I'm with Fat Rab and I don't want to leave him."

"But he's a satanist," I said, wondering what the fuck she's doing with him.

"And you're a crack addict. You think it makes you cool? Like you're Pete Doherty or something?"

"No I don't and what do you think Fat Rab's like? Marylin Manson with a bear gut and a fucked up face?"

"Marylin Manson has a fucked up face," she said. "Just be my friend, please?"

I just shrugged. "I suppose it wouldn't be fair on Gobbolino and Battle Cat."

She smiled, but it wasn't the smile I was looking for.

Hey There Georgie Girl

When I woke up today Fabian Wildman had taken Battle Cat out for a walk. He'd left an LP on the kitchen table with a note saying:

Listen to this! It'll really put the whole thing with you and Hooka in perspective. You can listen to it in my room. Go on mate. It'll do you good!

Love

FW.

This is the song here:



I felt like trashing his room and smashing every one of his LPs after listening to it but I didn't; he means well. Beside's it's not a bad tune (makes me want to swing my arse).

So after I'd washed and dressed and I decided that I was going to go round to Hookas and confront her about everything, (that I'd just read Red's comment on my last blog).

So round I went and knocked her door. Hooka answered it.

"We need to talk," I said.

"Not here," she replied. "I'll meet you down the Lagan Meadows in an hour,"

Then she went back in and closed her door.

I went down the Lagan Meadows and waited for two hours. I don't know why but I got a feeling in my gut after half an hour that she wouldn't show. She didn't.

I walked up the road hoping I might bump into her. I didn't. There were no lights on in her house when I got back. I went in the house and smoked my crack pipe. Then I went to sleep.

Fuck people.

Good King Thumpo and The Indie Rock and Rollers

I bumped into Good King Thumpo earlier. He was wandering around Shaftsbury Square pished out of his face. He was blabbering on about being hard and kicking the shite out of people and the usual. I was plastered too and it only put me in the mood to go home and kick the shite out of Fat Rab. Good King Thumpo was kinda hard to follow because not only was he slurring his words he was also jumping from topic to topic. He started blubbing and singing wee bits from Suzanne Vega's Luka and some song about "ma wee babay" he looked to be near collapsing.

Then a car drove past playing this happy hardcore classic



Good King Thumpo took his top off to reveal his heavily tattooed, roid addled torso and started dancing all buck mad. I felt so shit I joined in (I kept my top on). We got into this cool thing where we stood opposite each other and had our hands interweaving as we raved like a bunch of cool dudes.

Some indie kids gathered round for a chuckle so we slapped the fuck out of them. We didn't draw blood so it was okay. Like typical indie kids they burst into tears and I think one wet himself.

Good King Thumpo felt much better.

"Nothing better than knocking those wee pish flaps about," he said tearing into another can.

I went into a phonebox and sobbed for a good half hour. Then I sat on the street and scrounged for a bit, something I've never done before but I figure it might become a handy skill to have what with this credit crunch.

I learned facial expressions from watching Thomas the Tank Engine

I woke up this morning with a DVD player in my room. I must have robbed it when I was high last night. It's a bit worrying because I usually remember stuff like that. I remember walking about the Malone Road crying about Hooka because I'd woke up to her and Fat Rab playing Angry Anderson, so this meant that she wasn't interested.

I turned on the TV to check if there was anything in the news but I got worried in case Sammy Wilson might be on. I went and cleaned up Battle Cat's shit in the kitchen and went into town. No one's still seen Wino Jo. I tried to phone my other brothers to talk to them about him but none of them were answering. I wanted to tell Fabian about what happened with Hooka but he's all loved up so I don't want to bum him out.

I went into the Zaavi in the Victoria Centre looking for the Akon album because his Lonely really sums up how I feel, but if you watch the video you see that Akon is lonely because he tells his mates to fuck off because he wants to be alone. That's not exactly how I feel but it's close enough.

I couldn't see Akon's album on the shelves so I asked an assistant. He burst out laughing at me, I told him I'd break his face and see how funny he found that. For some reason I didn't stop there, I started pouring out all about Hooka and how she wanted to be with Fat Rab and how Fabian didn't wash but he could still get a girl who looked like Betty Blue to let him eat boiled eggs out her pussy and maybe he'd like to go and find the Akon album before I set fire to him and pushed him into that stand full of pish books over there and see how fucking funny he finds that.

He quickly apologised and said they didn't have Akon because he's dead popular and the minute his album comes in it's sold out in minutes. He did recommend a band called The Smiths, who he said were great for when you felt down and that he always listens to them when he needs a good cry. I bought the album and found that this song There is a Light That Never Goes Out sums up how I feel:

I kissed a girl

Fabian Wildman's back with Betty Blue. She came round this morning and they've been in bed all day. And if you're curious about whether they've boiled eggs in there with them I haven't looked the fridge yet.

Either way they were riding away all day Fabian was blasting out Tom Waits, which was a nice way to drown them out, better than Angry Anderson, speaking of which I bumped into Hooka today when I was down the Lagan Meadows with Battle Cat. She had a camera with her, she said she loves how it looks in the winter. She wanted to take a photo of me and Battle Cat but I told her I hate having my photo taken. I let her take one of Battle Cat off the leash but I'm not posting it up here. We walked down to close to Shaw's Bridge and it was getting dark as we were walking back. You get bats down there and they kept flying close to us. Hooka was scared, even though she's a witch; I'd have thought she'd be okay with them. She said that's a stereotype and that she doesn't have a cauldron or toads or a broomstick or anything other than a black cat.

I kissed her, she kissed me back but afterwards said she shouldn't have because Fat Rab would come after me if he knew. I told her it didn't matter because I wasn't scared of him or his mates. I kissed her again but she pulled away and told me she had to go. I let her walk off because it would have been an awkward walk up the road.

I waited down there with Battle Cat sulking and when some spides came along I kicked the shite out of them and stole their beer. I went home and drank it while listening to Tom Waits through Fabian's wall.

Where is Wino Jo?

Fabian Wildman's been sitting in his room all depressed since he brought Battle Cat back from his walk the other day. I feel sorry for him but he's doing really well with staying off crack. He said at breakfast this morning that he wanted to look for a job. It makes me think I should maybe get my own act together.

I went out for a walk to mull things over. I met Hooka at the top of the street. She asked me if I poured milk through her letter box. I told her no and that it was probably the wee spides who kick bins over. She told me that it took her ages to convince Fat Rab not to go round to mine to fight me. I told her I didn't care if he came round because I'd knock his fat ugly ass out. I also told her that was no way to thank someone who had looked after her pet all week and that maybe if she wanted me to help her out in future I'd see some more manners from her between now and then. She looked all shocked at me but I just walked off up the street.

I was worried because I got a call from my metaller brother last night saying no one's seen Wino Jo in ages. I rang round the hot shot banker and the fruitarian and they said they'd not heard from him. Then I realised that none of them ever heard anything from him. I was the only one who saw him except for at holidays or "family" things.

I checked the Stella Maris hostel in Garmoyle Street, which is where he normally stays. They hadn't heard from him. I checked round at the back of Queen St. Foosted Wotsit Head told me he hadn't seen him all year. Then he hicked a laugh because it had only been a week and a half. I told him if he sees him to get him to call me.

Wino Jo goes wandering off all the time and he's been missing for longer than this before so I'm not going to get too worried about it yet. Strange that the rest noticed this time.

The Perfect Girl

Fabian and Betty Blue had an arguement today. She stormed out of the house in the morning after shouting the place down about how Fabian was disgusting and she wouldn't be back.

Fabian sauntered down into the living room a wee while later in his dressing gown and slippers.

"Sorry you had to hear that," he said passing through into the kitchen and making himself some coffee.

He came back out into the living room and sat down.

"Doesn't Hooka and the Fat wanker get back today?" he said.

"Aye, she'll call round for Gobbolino sometime."

"You shouldn't be so sappy about her," he said. "If she'll go out with a dick like Fat Rab she's got no taste and probably no sense."

I didn't like him slagging her off so I tried to change the subject.

"What were you and Betty Blue argueing about?"

"I wanted to eat boiled eggs out of her pussy and she thought it was disgusting."

"She has a point."

"Why? It's not illegal, no one gets hurt. I let the boiled eggs cool down a bit first, so it's not like she's getting burnt."

"Why'd you want to do that?"

"I like eggs, I like pussy, I think they'd go well together."

"It's still a bit weird."

He shrugs at this and says. "It's like yer man says in Good Will Hunting: 'It's not about finding someone who's perfect. It's about finding someone who's perfect for you.' And my perfect girl lets me eat boiled eggs out of her pussy."

The Coolest Crackhead in Belfast

Hooka and Fat Rab went on holiday today. I don't know how since both of them are on the dole. Anyways, Hooka came round to ask if I'd look after Gobbolino. I said yes, like the sappy bastard I am.

Anyways I thought I'd let Gobbolino and Battle Cat play but I had to watch them because Gobbolino is still very tiny, and he could fit easily in Battle Cat's mouth, but Battle Cat was nice and they had lots of fun.

Fabian has started being twitchy and it's starting to do my nut. He gave me his knife to look after at the start of the week but that hasn't stopped him being a scary bastard. I watched him this morning have a conversation with himself in the mirror about how he was the coolest. He went on to list all the things that made him the coolest including rollerblading and shoplifting. I didn't know he rollerbladed. It kind of explains his love of spandex.

I got so stressed out about looking after him and the animals and the thought of Hooka and Fat Rab in some fancy hotel together (probably more like some shit B and B in Portrush) that I went and pissed through their letter box. That'll be nice for them to come back to.

I went in the house and told Fabian Wildman about it and he says milk would have been better because it smells worse than piss after it soaks in.

I went round later and poured a bottle of milk in. Fuck them.

Coming off Crack

Me and Fabian Wildman smoked all our crack with Betty Blue on Friday and as bad luck would have it couldn't get any yesterday. I went round a few dealers today but still couldn't get any. So I bought some cough medicine on the way home.

I came home to find Fabian Wildman smeared across the wall in his Zentai muttering and screaming about how "tongues fly" and "my body slides" and hissing like a snake.

I told him to cut it out or he wasn't getting any cough syrup. I don't like the idea of him all sketchy tonight with Battle Cat. If he scares the pup with his knife I'll kick him out, and I really don't want to do that because I'm actually liking having him around. He doesn't pay any bills but he buys most of the crack, he's tidy and he helps out with Battle Cat. Most of all I like him around because he's good company. He doesn't follow me around, he does his own thing a lot and when we do hang out he always has something interesting to say. Of course when he's coming off crack it's a different matter.

"Let'ssss kill the ssssssatanisssssst," he hissed as he slid slowly down the wall and slithered across the floor to get some cough syrup. "I'll sssssssssstab the Fab Rab mutherfucker."

"No, no killing, I want to get that fucker a different way," I said passing him the bottle.

I'm going to let Battle Cat stay up in my room tonight. He's started catching on that the newspapers are for shitting on, so hopefully I won't have a big mess to clean up tomorrow. If he shits on my carpet I'm dragging it into the alley and setting fire to it.

As for Fabian I only hope I can get my hands on some crack tomorrow.

Gobbolino is a Witch's Cat

I was out in the back garden playing with Battle Cat, even though it was bollocks freezing, because both me and Fabian were too high to take him for a walk.

Hooka shouted over the fence at me to come over and bring Battle Cat.

When we got there she said she had a new friend for Battle Cat. Then she held out a wee black kitten and said: "this is Gobbolino."

He was a dead cute wee thing and I let her hold him over the fence to let Battle Cat sniff him. She didn't want to set him down because he was very small; I didn't mind. It's maybe best Battle Cat gets familiar with him before they can play together: if he gobbled him up I'd feel awful and Hooka would cry for days.

Battle Cat didn't bark or anything he just stood there panting and wagging his tail.

I asked her where Fat Rab was. She just shrugged and looked sad. I didn't want to press it with her. I haven't heard them rowing since I beat up The Death Owl but then again I haven't heard Angry Anderson being played, which can only be a good thing.

My Fruitarian brother phoned today (he's not a fruitarian anymore but that's the name he's got and it's sticking) and asked if I wanted to meet for a coffee. We met in the Starbucks on Botanic Avenue. He seemed in really high spirits and over a hot cherry mocachino told me all about his run of good luck.

Firstly since he's started eating meat again he's re-established links with his old mates who feel okay about taking him out to restaraunts. He says they could have lived with him being veggie, even vegan, but fruitarian was a step too far. Sounds a bit harsh but it's up to him if he wants to be friends with them.

Secondly he's got a new girlfriend, he met her at the foreign market at the City Hall and they bonded over crocodile burgers. Then they had spanish donuts and went on the big wheel. He says he's going to have a party at his house later in the month and invite me.

I decided not to depress him by telling him all about The Death Owl and my neighbours. I'm really happy for him but It'd be nice to have someone of my own at this time of year. If only Hooka would dump Fat Rab.

I was shaken awake last night to see Fabian Wildman's big tearful face looming over me in the moonlight.

"It's him," he whimpered. "It's the Death Owl."

At first I thought he was downstairs but then I heard him screaming through the wall.

"Fat Rab wanted to kill that goat," he screeched. "he was doing it to please our lord Satan."

The next voice I heard was Hooka's. It was loud and tearful but not afraid.

"You won't be killing any more animals in this house. You're not fucking welcome here."

I didn't hear Fat Rab jumping in on any of their sides, joyless coward.

"The next full moon, we'll be having a blood sacrifice here, Fat Rab has already agreed." The Death Owl shouted back.

"I don't care," Hooka shouted. "I'll call the police on you again and if they won't do anything the blood sacrifice will be you."

Then I heard Fat Rab.

"Hooka please put down that knife. The Death Owl is a very powerful warlock."

"I won't harm your woman," laughed The Death Owl, "but let us sacrifice that wanker next door's new puppy."

I jumped out of bed and put my clothes on. I didn't give a fuck what Fabian Wildman saw.

"Stay here and bring Battle Cat inside," I told him.

I walked out onto the street and banged on their door.

"The Death Owl, come out here to I kick your fuck in," I shouted up at the window.

Hooka came down and pleaded with me.

"Please don't make him angry, he knows some very powerful spells," she sobbed.

I barged past her and caught the Death Owl coming down the stairs. I trailed him down them and dragged him out onto the street, where I gave him a severe beating.

"Right You fucking cunt," I shouted. "I don't give a fuck what magic you can do, or what daemons you send to my house. You ever touch my dog, anything ever happens to him I don't care where you are, I'll fucking end you. Is that clear?"

"You're making a mistake to mess with me," he growled.

I booted him twice in the face.

"You've already made a fucking mistake to mess with me." I shouted back at him.

He waved his wand pathetically but I kicked his wand arm and he screamed in pain. I went in the house and made sure everyone was alright then I went back to bed.

I was woken up at 4am by this song blasting through the walls. I guess Hooka and Fat Rab made up.



It isn't fair.

When I got up this morning (afternoon really), Fabian and Battle Cat were nowhere to be seen. At first I worried Fabian might have stolen him but after seeing Fabian had cleaned all Battle Cat's turd off the kitchen floor I just assumed he'd taken him for a walk.

I made myself a cup of tea and sat out in the garden, even though it was bollocks freezing. The garden is really pretty this time of year. When I moved in it was just grass, so I planted a few wee trees. It's now really pretty wild and the trees have all lost their leaves.

Hooka came out after a while and said hello. I asked her how come I haven't heard her and Fat Rab slam dancing to heavy metal for a while. She said that they'd been rowing and Fat Rab spent most of his time over at The Death Owl's. She said The Death Owl's flatmate had done a bunk and left him with loads of bills to pay.

I told her I thought The Death Owl was a prick.

She started to cry. She said that she didn't like him either, that before they knew him, her and Fat Rab just did the I Ching and now they were slicing up goats in their own home.

She was becoming a bit hysterical and I really wanted to leave but I felt sorry for her.

She said she had seen The Craft when she was at grammar school and she thought it would be cool to do some witchcraft for fun, and that she hadn't wanted to cut the goat up, because she grew up on a farm and she liked animals, except for pigs because when she was a kid her big brothers put her in with the pigs and she was scared of them because they had big long snotters running out of their snouts and that's why the only meat she eats is bacon.

She then said she wanted to buy a cat and look after it as a way of saying sorry to animals for killing the goat and that she saw I'd a dog and she was worried the dog would eat her cat.

I told her that Battle Cat was only a puppy, and if she bought her cat now the two of them could be friends.

She said she'd like that.

I woke up this morning to find Battle Cat had indeed shat all over the kitchen floor. Fabian Wildman was tip-toeing round it making his breakfast. He was smoking and I wasn't sure if it was a spliffy or a straight.

"It's just tobacco," he said holding it up after catching me eyeing it.
"Maybe we shouldn't smoke anything round him, you know, he's only a puppy, don't want to hurt his lungs."
"Yeah, no bother," he said taking his food and going off into the livingroom with it. My food really. I need to have a talk with Fabian about what he pays and what he needs to start paying. I'm letting him live here rent free after all, even though I'm having my rent paid for me he's still pocketing whatever money he gets.

I clean up Battle Cat's turds and have some breakfast of my own. After that I took him for a walk. He's a lively wee thing and we got down as far as the Lagan Meadows. It's a nice place to take him even if it was a bit cold.

While we're there I talk to him about all manner of stuff. Mostly about Hermione and how I'd like to be her boyfriend but she doesn't exist so I can't, and how I'd thought Hooka was a bit like Hermione because she did magic too, and how she was going out with Fat Rab and how I'd hoped him and The Death Owl would go to jail so I'd be in with a chance but that didn't happen and how I'm going to get him to maul The Death Owl when he's older.

He just woofed along pleasantly, even though he hasn't met any of these people and probably can't understand English it was just nice to have someone to tell this stuff too and get it off my chest.