I Can Whoop Some Ass

I was going to post up the funny crap inside The Suicide Diaries but instead I went for a walk with a nice bottle of pink champaigne down the Lagan Meadows. I should really describe the Lagan Meadows to some of you after all this time. It starts in Stranmillis in South Belfast and cuts an upside down V all the way out to Lisburn (not a fucking) City. It's great because it feels like you've walked for miles out into the countryside but you're never really further than a mile away from some houses.

So there I was down there when I ran into Rock and Roll Stephen, he was balling his eyes out and saying that The Indie Kid leaving was like Pete and Carl going their seperate ways.

I said that he'd be happier wanking off cows, he was a country boy really and all this roley smoking posturing was fucking him up. He didn't know how to do one and now he can't remember how to do the other.

He told me I better get out of here because an enemy was on the way. He fixed me a steely stare and spat on the ground.

Suddenly Clarence Pishflap and the Unicorn Girl came into view.

"Hello Clarence Pishflap and The Unicorn Girl," I said.

The Unicorn Girl gave me a big hug and called me the truster of poems. Clarence growled. I asked him if he was still wanting to beat Hot Baby Roy up and he said that he was going to meet up with him at a later date and knuckles were going to bleed.

"My knuckles will bleed," he screamed before falling to the ground screaming.

"Stop acting like a fucking wanker," The Unicorn Girl shouted at him. "I've told you it doesn't fucking impress me."

She stormed off up the path, he stood up and ran after her shouting apologies.

Rock and Roll Stephen laughed. It was nice to see him happy. He laughed as he walked down into the meadows singing Libertines songs to himself. I don't think he'll miss The Indie Kid all that much.

Walk Like a Panther

I took my thoughts about my enemies and went for a walk down the Lagan towpath with a bottle of pink champaigne. I'm going to have to be cautious. I could get major fucked if I have to fight all my enemies at once. I made up my mind to get absolutely bolloxed and scream long into the night but all the joggers fucked it up for me. Everytime I just about started to slot into my own personal space they came prancing out of nowhere on their soon to be fucked for life knees.

After a little while they fucked off, but when they did Panther Man came sliding along the path. He's called panther man because he used to wear all black velvet (except his shoes) and sit at parties spouting platitudes like "most murders are committed in most people's minds," all while scabbing roll-ups and drinks off people. Last I'd heard he'd fucked off to Dublin for University but I think he's been kicked off his course.

He's changed. Where he used to be the sort of charming rake who could easily entice some lady to look after him financially and sexually he now dresses in roaster burnt fleeces and looks like the sort of fucker who'd come round your house to fix your tv and lift a few of your CDs when you went to make him a cup of tea.

"Tuesday Kid," he says. "Do you have any tobacco? I have some stories to share."

I told him no and that I needed to get focused for a big fight. He said to me "All fights are won before either side meets."

"Very fucking profound I'm sure," I said to him.

He slinked off along the towpath and came walking back an hour later with a black eye. He didn't stop that time.

Fine Wine in the Summertime

With the lovely sun out yesterday me and Battle Cat went for a nice big walk down the Lagan Meadows and called into Nanny Boo Boos on the way back, Nanny Boo Boo was sitting pished off her face in the back garden.

She told me that My Protege has turned into a responsible young man and has been doing nice chores for her like keeping the garden tidy and trimmed and she buys his drink for him at the Winemark.

She also said that Fabian Wildman had been calling round and that he was saying he felt bad about acting the dick when he moved out. She said that she thinks Fabian is smoking the bad stuff again and she doesn't mean tea. She said that he's all bug eyed and has holes in his shoes and that only the other week he was telling her that he'd been dancing on the street hoping to get money but that he only managed 50p and that wasn't enough, and then he stopped before he said too much.

I told her that I thought Fabian was cyclicle with his addictions and that I'm sure he'll stop the crack soon enough.

She said that we were always good mates and that I should forgive and forget. I'm not convinced. The only thing he's gotten in touch about is collecting some socks.

I told her he has my number and that he knows where I live if he wants to get in touch and she said that she thinks he's too proud. I told her people with holes in their shoes don't have room for pride.

She stopped talking about it then because neither of us want to have an arguement, she brought out a big bottle of red wine and I got pished and boked all the way home, nearly a good day.

A wee boke not far from Nanny Boo Boo's.

A Mature Conversation About Sex

I was down the Lagan Meadows again last night trying to find the Unicorn Girl. I thought that maybe if I had one of those majikal horns like the old warriors had then I could blow it and she'd come galloping towards me with the wind or some romantic ass shit. There's something about when you can't get to people or get in touch with them that makes you want them more, I don't know what it is or why it works.

Hot Baby Roy says it's because when you're a kid people don't refuse anything to you but that when you get older and it happens it just makes you want it more.

Since both of us have been crack addicts we know what it's like to really want something and try to refuse it. Part of me wonders if I'm just lonely and that any girl could take the Unicorn Girl's place in my affections.

That was what I was thinking just as Rock and Roll Stephen, the Indie Kid and some girl came prancing along. I recognised the girl, but I don't know where from.

They sat and chatted to me for a bit. Rock and Roll Stephen has new teeth and he says that these ones are reinforced and won't break next time he falls over drunk. I half said that someone punched him but he gave me this alarmed look like he didn't want the girl to know. I don't know why because they weren't together and I don't think he was even trying it on with her. Maybe he was playing it cool.

She was talking all about how she believed in true love and that monogamy was a choice you had to make constantly regardless of whether you had a long term sex partner or not.

The Indie Kid mumbled something about how he didn't eat beefburgers because he could smoke beef at home, then he took a turn to look alarmed and he winced and shut up quickly as he realised he'd balls it up.

"I've always wanted to turn a gay guy," the girl said staring at him coyly. It was then I remembered where I'd seen her before.

Lonely Lagan Meadows

I managed to get enough from my robbing for some sweet bottles of pink champaigne yesterday. I said to Hot Baby Roy that me and him should go and see if we could bump into the Unicorn Girl and he said that he didn't want to sit and talk to Clarence anymore because Clarence always tried to make fun of him to impress girls.

I told him that I could beat Clarence up and that he always cowered in fear whenever I was close.

Hot Baby Roy said that this was balls because he wanted to be his own man, not just looking to me everytime Clarence mentioned Fanta pubes.

I told him to please himself, so he stayed in with the weights set while I walked around being a fey drunk. I sat for hours down by the Lagan thinking about romantic or heroic things I could say to The Unicorn Girl when she came near but I was there on my own all that time. I walked a bit farther into the Lagan Meadows hoping to find her but all I find was that some bastard had written Tuesday Kid is a Bastard on a bench with a pen knife. I was touched to find that some one else (probably a street wise kid) had scratched it through and written Tuesday Kid will win before you beneath it. My money is on the street kid. I'm glad he wasn't there to see my tears or my pride.

Rock and Roll Stephen is Back in Action

Last night I took Hot Baby Roll on a pink champaigne swigging adventure down by the Lagan Meadows. We bumped into Rock and Roll Stephen, Clarence Pishflap, The Unicorn Girl and the girl that Rock and Roll Stephen was trying to steal from another man.

The Unicorn Girl immediately told Clarence Pishflap about my making her cry the last time we saw each other. Clarence looked warily at me like he knew any foolish act of heroism could blow the Clarence The Protector ruse he's been casting for weeks.

"I hurt my arm lifting weights today," he said, rubbing his arm. The left soon after. Clarence looked back at me resentfully and drew a finger across his throat. I flexed my bicep at him in the manner Avril Lavigne used to in the early stages of her punk rock career, only mine were much bigger and dangerous.

Once they were away Hot Baby Roy pulled me to the side and asked if I'd help beat up Rock and Roll Stephen. I told him that I didn't want to hit Rock and Roll Stephen. Hot Baby Roy said it was okay he didn't need to win he just needed to fuck up his face.

Back at the bench Rock and Roll Stephen had his new teeth out in some style and was making up for gummy months by giving it all that about how into feminism he was and was rhyming off this big long swab of bullshit he'd no doubt prepared for this moment.

Here's how it went:

"Feminists, man. I sometimes feel embarrased being a man because we can be so shit to girls, women, I mean women. But we're not the only ones I mean women don't know how far ahead they are sometimes. I mean take Marilyn Monroe, a lot of women see her as a ditsy blonde, a bad role model for other women but still there were pictures of her published while she was still alive that show her reading James Joyce's Ulysees and weightlifting."

Hot Baby Roy rubbed his groin. "Power and brains," he breathed.

"But me," continued Rock and Roll Stephen. "I respect women, I respect you."

Then he leaned in for the kiss but the girl was having none of it. She hit him a slap and stormed off.

"What can I say?" said Rock and Roll Stephen. "It must just be my reputation. I have a reputation for breaking hearts. But I'm trying to change."

Some guy came up to us then and asked who was Rock and Roll Stephen. Rock and Roll Stephen meekly held up a finger in fear. The guy punched him in the side of the jaw and walked off.

When Rock and Roll Stephen opened his mouth next his shiney new teeth came crumbling out and he fled in tears.

Rock and Roll Stephen last night

My Dreams are Crushed Like Rose Petals in an Alligators Mouth - An Old Chinese Saying (balls)

Today I signed on and I was well sneaky. I didn't tell them about my job interview because if I get the job then I'll keep signing on for an extra month, just so they get fucked in the cash.

I'm making big plans for myself and what I'll do when I get mullah. It'll be barbeques and pink champainge every day and hopefully wet tee-shirt contests in my back yard.

That's what I was thinking all the way to my interview. It was pure balls. It's only for a pish wee shop but I was talked to like this was kay-mart or some such shit. It wore me down. I was told all about their current coffee and newspaper promo and an upcoming Pot Noodle one they were very excited about that was sure to crush the enemy or at the very least bring them to their knees. He screwed his face up like he was wringing out a teatowel as he said it.

I told him that I was a big capitalist and I had plans to make this shop into the money making machine I had dreamed about since I was a little boy.

They thought I was taking the piss and asked me to leave. I asked the guy how he could talk the shite he did and not take me seriously.

He told me I was barred. I told him I'd grow a moustache and come back in here on the rob. I'd steal everything in the shop, even the mouldy bread they try to flog to begging tramps. I was getting quite carried away but I left weeping like Ben Affleck crying over his tattered name.

Then I went with a bottle of pink champainge down to the Lagan Meadows and sat at the mouth of it crying away.

Rock and Roll Stephen was there with The Unicorn Girl. I was in floods of tears saying that I was destined to stay on the dole all my life and become a theiving bastard like that rotten bastard Gerard Taggart.

Rock and Roll Stephen said that being on the dole was rock and roll and that I should be proud.

I told him I didn't want to be rock and roll, I wanted money.

The Unicorn Girl said that I was shallow and materialistic and I told her that she only thought like that because she was probably some wee rich girl from the Malone Road.

She started to cry and I felt bad. But not bad enough to comfort her. I sat and drank my drink as she cried and Rock and Roll Stephen tried to say the letter F with no teeth.

Unicorns Aren't Extinct Yet

I went down the Lagan Meadows last night with a bottle of pink champaigne. The optimism of Spring didn't last it seems.

There were some people sitting at the mouth of the meadows all having a laugh. I was feeling jealous until I heard my name shouted.

I went over and it was Rock and Roll Stephen, The Indie Kid, Clarence Pishflap and The Unicorn Girl.

The Indie Kid was saying that he was trying to get Rock and Roll Stephen back into singing because he'd written more songs about The Smoker and they needed to be sung.

"About that," I said to The Indie Kid. "I don't like you writing songs about me."

"They're not about you," he said. "They're about Fabian Wildman."

"How the fuck are they about Fabian Wildman?" I said.

He didn't get a chance to reply because The Unicorn Girl sat bolt upright and started offloading about what a bastard Fabian Wildman had been when he was living with her and her mates. He started smoking crack and tried it on with loads of girls behind Betty Blue and broke poor Betty Blue's heart, and that I was a bastard by proxy.

I told her that I hadn't seen Fabian Wildman in months and that I liked Betty Blue and I felt bad about what he did, and for some reason I found myself half defending him. I told her that he goes through phases where he fucks everything up but that he helped me give up crack and I'll always thank him for it.

She kept on saying he was a bastard and I told her that Betty Blue used to take me clothes shopping in the second hands and that I hoped she was doing okay even though Fabian Wildman had been a fucker to her.

Clarence Pishflap who'd been strangely silent up til that point said that I was upsetting The Unicorn Girl and that him and her were going to go.

The Unicorn Girl said she was sitting where she was.

Rock and Roll Stephen broke the tension by asking me if I knew anything about how to get false teeth. The Unicorn Girl didn't speak to me for the rest of the evening but it's progress of sorts.

Dark Eyes Follow Me

I woke up on the couch this morning to find someone stomping around upstairs. I fetched the baseball bat from the cupboard under the stairs and went up to find Hot Baby Roy tidying up. I asked him what he was at.

He said the house was in a bit of a mess and he was sorting things out. I asked him where he'd been. He said he was staying for a few nights at Clarence Pishflap's. I asked if the Unicorn Girl was there too, and he burst out laughing. I told him that Clarence and he were an item and that I thought she was too good for him.

He said that Clarence wished they were an item because when she's round Clarence is always making her cups of tea and listening to her talk about indie boys that have wronged her and telling her she should leave boys alone and get with a "real man," by that he means himself.

Hot Baby Roy said that one night the Unicorn Girl fell asleep as Clarence was comforting her on the couch (no sex implied) and that when he, Hot Baby Roy walked into the room Clarence was rocking her gently and sniffling. He was implanting subliminal messages, saying "You fancy me, Clarence: a real man," softly in her ear. That's the only night she ever spent at his and Clarence said the next morning that he will never say if they had sex or not because "a gentleman never tells," even though nobody asked.

Hot Baby Roy said that he was fed up with Clarence and had seen him for the sad case he was. He also said that Clarence had bought ninja stars and kept saying he was going to embed them into my skull. And that Clarence had been following me around town when I was wankered out of my face and sometimes deep into the Lagan Meadows as night. Watching for a sign of my weakness, he nearly had me the other night but Rock and Roll Stephen was stroking my hair while I slept (yuk) and Clarence had to go home to change his catheter before it overflowed.

I told him that I wasn't bothered. If Clarence beat me in a dream he'd better wake up and apologise. I felt a bit silly for saying this and Hot Baby Roy politely stared at the floor.

Bottle of Pink Champaigne for My Lonely Travels

Last night I took my bottle of pink champaigne and went down to the Lagan Meadows, I wandered far, farther than I've gone with Battle Cat, out past Drumbeg.

I was lonely drunk, crying sporadically and shouting out insults because I knew no one could hear me, only the occasional bat flew past my face.

Then the bottle emptied and I knew it was a long walk back to Stranmillis for more, I could hear people down the meadows all the way back, people in the distance laughing, or the odd shout between friends, but all the miles I never met anyone. I never met anyone.

January Friend

I'm really down today, and I haven't been in a long while, or at least when I was I didn't notice because I was too busy with work or being ill or trying to sort out Wino Jo and Hot Baby Roy, but now I feel it.

I phoned off work today and took Battle Cat for a long walk down the Lagan Meadows and told him that I was sorry we didn't hang out as much any more but I was busy and I'd try to make it up to him. He didn't seem to mind too much and wagged his tail happily as we walked.

I told him how I was down about my protege being such a wee wanker, all the stuff Nanny Boo Boo said he was up to just makes him sound like the nastiest wee wanker around. He needs a good kick in the hole, I remember Nanny Boo Boo one told me to kick him so hard I broke his tailbone but I knew better. I was all into teaching him like some old fucker in a kung-fu movie, and I did try but he's learned fuck all. It just makes me want to beat the shit out of him. But then I remember how nice and sympathetic he was when I was sitting crying down by the river that time. I'll figure out.

Then I asked him what he thought about Hot Baby Roy and Wino Jo. How the fuck is Hot Baby Roy getting so popular with the next door neighbours and not me. I've been living there longest. I've been trying to move forward with my life while he draws the dole and wanks all the time, when I used to do that I got nowhere with anyone.

We had walked way past Shaw's Bridge by the time I finished. Then I asked Battle Cat how he was doing and he woofed to say he was hungry.

I took him home and gave him a really big feed, he deserved it.

I sat up in my room listening to moody music on youtube until I came across this and it made me feel a wee bit better. I wonder who the girl is, it'd be cool if she lived nearby. I could find her.

Lessons of Life No 2

Nanny Boo Boo gets back today so I went down yesterday with Battle Cat to make sure the place is nice and tidy and none of the flowers were dead (they weren't - I did a good job).

So I was well chuffed with myself and went on down the Lagan Meadows with Battle Cat. It was chilly and we hadn't got enough clothes on us (or I didn't, he walks around naked).

We were walking back up to Stranmillis when I found my protege writing "Fuck the police" on a bench.

I asked him was he ready for his second lesson.

He said yes.

I asked him if he'd learned the first.

He said the first was not to trust people.

I said no. The first lesson was that people won't do something for nothing. I'm teaching him about the lessons of life so I want paid for this.

I then asked him was he ready for lesson two.

He said yes again.

I told him if he finds two quid spend one on flowers and the other on food.

He looked confused. I was a bit too, it was something I read online a few days ago I don't really know what it means.

Poor Battle Cat

Me and Battle Cat were down the Lagan Meadows tonight and I'd a nice bottle of free wine with me. I was talking away to him about how Fabian Wildman was a bastard but I still didn't want Battle Cat to bite him because Fabian had been nice to him and Battle Cat wasn't to get all confused because Fabian wasn't around any more and me and him were still mates even if he never visited. Battle Cat stopped and had a boke and I had a poke through it to make sure he didn't have worms.

Then this cutesy wee lady dog came tottering over with her owner, a wee old man, Battle Cat and her were sniffing round each others bums and I could tell they liked each other's scents but then the oul man started making a scene all about how Battle Cat was a mongral and his dog was a pure breed. I told him this wasn't Hogwarts and he said this his dog was raised to mate with a pedegree because he was old and needed to pay for oil in the winter time and that Battle Cat was a mongral.

I told him that dogs had hearts and maybe he should let his dog enjoy Battle Cat's love because I could assure him that Battle Cat was well brought up and house trained and he pulled a face like a gurner and said he'd hit Battle Cat with a stick if he came sniffing round his dog again.

I told him that pedigree dogs were inbred and he probably was too. His dog would have a fun time getting in Battle Cat's gene pool.

He said something else but I cut in and said up his hole. He shook his fist and fucked off. Quick.

The Second Day on Our Own

Today I went and sat in the Lagan Meadows with Battle Cat. Drank a bottle of wine and smashed some glass for the joggers to run over. I remember when I was a wee lad I used to love smashing glass bottles. Pile of shite.

Went home and learned how to play solitaire on the internet. Then some wee bastard came along and threw eggs at my window. I went out and gave them the chase but didn't catch one of them. I'll get the wee bastards another time I went down the Lagan Meadows in saw someone had cleared away my bottles. Fuckers.

First Day On Our Own

Today I played squash with myself in my house. That was until Derek Baby came round and asked me to stop. Then I took Battle Cat for a walk out into the Lagan Meadows but we couldn't get to be alone to talk to each other because of all the fucking joggers. Annoying huffing, puffing bastards.

Fabian Finds a Place

Fabian Wildman's found a place. He's moving in with Betty Blue and her arty pals. This sucks because I know I'm going to have Hot Baby Roy move in, and he's an okay guy but it's just that I know we'll sit about the house watching wanking movies all day, and I was thinking of sorting myself out.

Fabian says we'll still hang out but we've been hanging out less and less these days. I'll try.

I went down to Stranmillis find my protege. I was going to teach him his second lesson but he was nowhere to be seen. I sat down the Lagan Meadows getting trashed on cheap wine and feeding the ducks, but they fucked off when the bread ran out. Why am I always left on my own? How come everyone else always finds a place to go?

Hot Baby Roy is a Dirty Bastard

Today I walked down by the Lagan with Battle Cat. There were all these big burly women in rowing boats competing against each other. All these people rode alongside the river screaming at them to go faster and win and all that stuff. They nearly ran me and Battle Cat down. I called them fuckers and they still didn't take notice.

Fabian Wildman's mate Hot Baby Roy was standing down by the riverside.

"Hello, Tueesday Kid and Battle Cat," he said.
"Hello Hot Baby Roy, why are you watching the boat race?"
"Because these ladies are fine, fine, fine!" he screamed. He didn't take his hands out of his pocket. I could tell by the bulges that he'd cut a wee hole in the lining of his pockets so he could play with himself while he watched.

I felt awkward so I asked him how he was doing. He said he'd quit the crack and that he now hosts a quiz night at the Rangers supporters club on Sandy Row. No one there knows about the crack and he'd like to keep it that way.

I'd say none of them really want to know about the pervy trouser thing either but hey. Even big burly weightlifteer rower ladies have a right to wear tight lycra and grunt and groan in public without being treated as sex objects.

Balls Job Interview

So Battle Cat is still missing and no one has seen him. I'm just fucked off and missing him. Fabian Wildman is really subdued too. I was supposed to go for my job interview last friday but I called and postponed it. They let me have it today. It went fucking awful. I went in and they asked if everything was okay now. I said no my dog was still missing and you should have seen the bastards. The oul dick leading the interview, who looked like the Leader of The Draughts Club Convention went:

"Oh, was that why?"

With this fucking look on his face like someone had just told him he could lick his own balls (not the bowl - there's no way he'd ever lick the bowl). So he started with the interview and I was already well pissed off and offended and I just gave the shortest simplest answers except when they asked me why I hadn't worked in a long time and I just said I'd been travelling and made up all this shit about where I'd been and what I'd done, now I know how Amerigo Vespucci felt. But then he'd two continents named after him, so being a lying bastard is the way to go.

I don't give a fuck if I get the job. I really don't. I'm off down the Lagan Meadows again.

Battle Cat is still missing

Last night I didn't sleep very well, I kept waking up thinking I heard scratching at the door but when I went down Battle Cat wasn't there. I went out early this morning down the Lagan Meadows again but I couldn't see him anywhere. I shouted for a good bit but he never came.

I walked up to the Death Owl's house and knocked on his door for ages but there was no answer. The Superstar DJ that lived next door came out and told me that he didn't live there any more. I asked him if he knew where he'd went and he just shrugged.

"I'm too busy thinking about music to care about stuff like that," he said looking away modestly.
"My dog's missing," I said
"Music," he shrugged insistantly.

I wanted to tell him his stuff was pish but I just wandered off up the road. I'm only just in now. Me and Fabian are going back out in a bit.

My Dog is Missing

Battle Cat got out this morning. At first I thought it was satanists but I told myself I was just being paranoid. I first found out when I went to feed him. The gate was open and he was away.

I woke Fabian Wildman and he came out to help me look for him. We searched all the nearby streets but he was nowhere to be seen. Both of us were running about in oul tracksuit bottoms so we went back to get dressed before searching more.

The Sweaty Metallers and their new recruit, The Banshee, were just about to go in for a heavy metal rock and roll jam when they saw I was crying. They asked what was up and I told them Battle Cat was missing. They said they'd come and help me but I said it was okay. They insisted they were helping, so me and Fabian Wildman went and got dressed and met them back outside. Mr Spoon was there too and he said he'd help. Fabian Wildman phoned Betty Blue who said she'd meet us down at the Lagan Meadows.

We split into three groups Me and Mr Spoon, Fabian and Betty Blue, and the Sweaty Metallers and The Banshee. We searched for hours but there was no sign of him anywhere. Me and Mr Spoon went into Botanic Gardens and then up to Ormeau Park. Fabian and Betty Blue checked The Lagan Meadows as far down as Shaw's Bridge and The Sweaty Metallers and The Banshee checked further up the path from the Ormeau Road out to the Obel Tower but no luck. I'm just back in to get some food and then I'm off out again for another look.