3 Years and counting

So Saturday was my three year anniversary. I'm not sure where to go with the blog any more or even if I should keep posting. It's mostly because I'm no longer a lonely crackhead living in Belfast.

I still sniff felt tips from time to time though. Mostly I just get high throughout the day on coffee, and come down in the evening with alcohol.

Still, it's nice to make it to the big old three years and know that my blog has outlived Hamsters, Guppies and unfortunate pets (I'm not sure why this is nice, especially because I'm sure all those deaths involved crying children). Ho hum.

The Suicide Diaries - No 2

I went to work today hoping to see The Punchbowl Girl (I'm not calling her The Suicide Girl - nfw) but she wasn't there. I hope she's okay. I think she's okay. I can't remember much from that party where I met her because I was pretty wasted but I remember we hung out and talked about Pearl Jam and how cool they were (I don't really know their stuff but I've told bigger lies).

I came home and thought I might find some wise words for her in The Suicide Diaries that or I wanted a laugh. I found the following, an attempt at a political rap I think:

Talking deep stuff with the gang
everyone thinks their own thang
Someone thinks one thing I think the other
it's okay we learn from each other

People play some music
I sing some lines
everyone digs it
I feel so fine

When spides hit the street
cops stop the beat
a spide grabs a rock
throws it at the cop

A riot starts
but we keep our cool
both the spide and the cop
look so uncool.

He's now singing this shit to cows. His dad will kick him off the farm if he catches him.

I'm sick of being on my own. I want to get love. I've a few ideas how I might get it but I'm not sure. I've a poll on the side of the page. Vote and let me know all about how to find love.

Three Sisters Who Fell Into The Mountain

I'm wandering about Belfast feeling miserable more and more in my time off, because Hot Baby Roy and Wino Jo are huffing with me so it feels like that song that says "it's not my home, it's their home and I'm welcome no more." I think it's by The Smiths.

So I walked down by the city centre and it was all a bit nothing, everyone is all running around feeling cool about not being skint this month. I shouldn't resent them it's just I'm miserable.

I thought that when I got a job things would start to move forward and they haven't. I don't have any friends for work that I hang out with when I'm not working. I spend most of my money sorting out my brother and Hot Baby Roy and the only friend I have that doesn't scrounge off me is Nanny Boo Boo.

Last year when I was going to lots of heavy metal vomit parties was a lot of fun but now no one from that time wants to know me. I remember seeing this troll on a TV show (it was an animation) and the troll was all going on about how he wanted a sweetheart and he asked these girls who came wandering into his cave (the came one by one at different times, but it just so happened they were sisters), the first two said no and so the troll turned them to stone (this may have been a metaphor for what they did to the poor troll's heart) and the last sister said yes, but it was only a trick to fuck the troll up worse. In the end she got her sisters free and the troll turned into a big stone mountain. I know how he feels (metaphorically), still.

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.

The Hermione Granger Fan Club

Hot Baby Roy might read my blogs because after me slagging him off a bit recently he showed up at the house today saying that he'd a present for me.

I was a bit dubious but he went into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded up bit of paper to reveal a picture of the lovely Emma Watson who plays the gorgeous Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter movies.

He said he was a big fan of hers but he knew I was too so he thought he'd bring me a gift.

I was very happy.

I invited him in for a cup of tea and a chat about Hermione.

It soon turned out that Hot Baby Roy was more into Emma Watson and I was more into Hermione. I told him my love for Hermione was pure, while he said he'd love to have sex with Emma Watson under a waterfall.

I didn't fancy his chances but I told him that was a nice thing to think about.

He said that if Razorlight could do it, so could he, because Razorlight was an ugly bastard and Hot Baby Roy had moves.

He has a point there but I'm not so sure her and Razorlight did the deed. I suspect if they did that Razorlight would boast about it in a song.

He said that when he came off crack he'd written her a letter, not about sex but about the other emotions he felt for her. She never replied. He included a picture in it too. That might be the reason why.

He said he was doing his Care Bear Stare in the photo and that if he ever met her he'd do it and he'd be sure to win her heart. He did it for me and I told him he'd have more luck if he just bundled her into the back of a van.

He asked what me and Fabian Wildman were doing for the twelfth. I told him I didn't know about Fabian Wildman but I liked to sleep all day and wank a bit. I waved the Hermione picture at him to show I appreciated the effort because he looked a bit sad that we weren't doing anything.

Perhaps Hot Baby Roy is lonely like I used to be.

Hot Fun in the Sunshine

I took Battle Cat for a walk down the Lagan Meadows today, Fabian Wildman came with us. It was nice just hanging out the three of us like the old days. It made me think about how lonely I used to be and how I'm not any more and Fabian and Battle Cat were the start of it ending. Though part of me is questioning how that's changing. Battle Cat was bought to eat The Death Owl but now we never see him and even if we did I wouldn't want Battle Cat to eat anyone. Fabian used to be really cool then he became a yuppie, then a racist, now he's a crackhead again but he seems so much sadder than before, like he thought when he quit everything else would start working, but he's tried that and now he's decided to settle for being a crack head.

I didn't say any of this. I bought me and Fabian Wildman a twelve pack. We walked down about half way to Shaw's Bridge and sat guzzling them in the grass and sun. After we'd finished Fabian pulled out the crack pipe but I told him if he smoked that I wasn't carrying him home. I thought he was going to spark it up but he put it back in his pocket.

"It'll keep till later," he said.

Like so many things, I thought.

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:

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: