Looking after Nanny Boo Boo's Place

Today I thought it was about time I cheered up. So I went and got a lend of Mr Spoon's lawnmower. Not because I wanted to mow my lawn but because I wanted to huff the petrol out of it. Only the rotten old bastard never told me there wasn't any in it. So I just waited a few hours and gave it back to him (after breaking the blades) and telling him he'd broken blades and I couldn't use it.

He looked pissed off but then again so was I, so fuck him.

I took Battle Cat down for a walk to Nanny Boo Boo's because she's gone to stay with her nephew in London for the week and asked me to water her plants. I let myself in and found a big bowl of sausages and a note saying "help yourself to wine". I got pished on her wine and listened to her LPs. This one is fucking rocking, it reminds me of Jive Bunny:

Party Time

So on Sunday we'd a big cool party to celebrate Battle Cat being back. We didn't want to make it a rock and roll heavy metal vomit one because Nanny Boo Boo was coming over and we were worried about how she'd find it. The Sweaty Metallers were on their best behaviour but a few sherry's in Nanny Boo Boo starting asking for the vodka and asked for us to play some loud music. She was a right riot. Listening to all the sweaty metaller's funny stories about rock and roll vomit parties and all the sweaty metal things they get up to. It was then I realised that both of them were competing for the affections of the Banshee who lapped it all up.

Fabian Wildman and Betty Blue were hanging out in the corner talking to Mr Spoon because Betty Blue wants to start making weird wine with beetroot and rhubarb and other weird stuff. Mr Spoon had kindly brought round two bottles (which, no harm to him, made everyone who tried them boke). The special place was reserved for Battle Cat who sat in the corner most of the night woofing away pleasantly and glad to be home.

Mr Spoon left around ten and Nanny Boo Boo a short while later. I told her I'd bring Battle Cat down to visit soon. She said she'd like that and that she'd enjoyed her time at the party and maybe she'd get an invite to the next heavy metal vomit one. I don't see why not.

After that we all played strip twister which got very messy and we were all drunk and didn't understand the rules.

I can't remember how it ended but I woke up bollock naked in the living room on my own with Battle Cat licking my face.

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.

I have cool things on my mind

Sorry I haven't posted much this week. I've been lying in bed wanking away about the yankie doodle dandy. It made me think I've got to go and get me a girlfriend, one who makes me feel cool all the time!

I asked Fabian Wildman if he wanted to go to a rock and roll vomit party where I could meet ladies of questionable age and gender.

He told me he wouldn't because you're no one at those parties if you can't play guitar or bongos and don't have a Prince Albert.

I screamed the house down. This just isn't fair. I've wasted all my time smoking crack and feeling lonely and cool while geeks have been up in their bedrooms learning cool tunes or out getting their willies pierced.

The Sweaty Metallers and Mr Spoon came round to ask me to keep it down but I just stood in the hall screaming and balling my eyes out.

One of the Sweaty Metallers gave me a big hug and said I must be a nice guy and that he liked my scream. He said he wants me to sing for his Sweaty Metal band and that we'd never stop having Rock and Roll Vomit Parties.

This is the beginning of cool times!

Heavy Metal House Party

I went round to the Sweaty Metallers' house today. I brought them a housewarming present. I was sure this would get things off to a great start.

"Hello Sweaty Metallers," I said when they answered the door. "Here's a Phil Collins album for you to listen to when you're slam dancing."

The sweaty metaller told me to fuck off and slammed the door in my face. Fuck them I'm not going to try any more. I decided to have a quiet night in but the metallers started playing loud heavy metal. I looked out the window to see people in the garden. It looked like they'd invited everyone else in the street, even Mr Spoon.

I was so upset. I tried to tell Fabian Wildman but he didn't care; he was too busy talking about his five-year plan. I couldn't be arsed listening I just sat around pissed off wanting to lick the bowl.

Accidentally Kelly Street

After sorting stuff out with Indie Kid I started thinking about sorting things out with the rest of the street: Fat Rab and Hooka, that would take a while and is best left alone for now, Mr Spoon, I was going to have to think about that; for all his huffing and puffing and moralising and all that crap he just wants to think he lives somewhere nice where (nomatter what people do in their home) that sort of stuff doesn't happen on the streets.

I know he likes to make weird wines so I went to the veg shop on the Lisburn Road and bought him loads of beetroot and ginger and an aubergine.

I went round his house and knocked his door but no-one answered. It didn't sound like he was in. I went to the shop and bought a notepad and a pen and wrote him a wee note:

"I hope you can make some of your nice wine with this lot. I liked the bottle you gave me last summer Christmas."

Then I left it at his front door in a bag.

I was about to go in the house when I heard this Rolling Stones song playing loudly from the living room:



I looked through the window to see Fabian Wildman slithering about in his zentai giving it his best Jagger moves.

He was shouting: "Betty Blue! Whip my ass! Aren't you hypnotised by my ass!"

I didn't look any more to see her. I decided to leave them to it. Fabian more than deserved the house to him and Betty Blue for the rest of the day. So I went round the back and got Battle Cat and me and him went off to the Lagan Meadows for a nice big long walk.

Kinky Mr Spoon

Today Mr Spoon called round to say that him and some of the other residents had heard of my pissing through Hooka and Fat Rab's door. He said they were all thoroughly disgusted and started going over some other crap about decent behaviour and animals.

I'd half a litre of vodka in me at this point so I asked him if he'd like to see the inside of his living room from my living room.

He said he didn't know what I meant.

I asked him if anyone had ever put his head through a brick wall and would he like me to do it for him.

He said no.

Then I told him that I'd let him off this time but he'd best fuck off and mind his own business unless he'd like to wake up some night and find himself dangling over his wife in a suspension harness.

He said I was vile and bared his teeth at me.

I asked him if they were false teeth.

He said they were.

I told him mine were real and unlike his they could break open boiled sweets.

He burst into tears.

I opened the door for him and he hobbled out of it dejected.

That felt great. I stuck on this snoop and JT song on repeat:



I danced round the living room until I boked all over the sofa. I'll clean it up in a bit but I'll have a snooze first.

Spring Cleaning in Winter

I started cleaning out the spare room today. Now Fabien's a proper housemate he needs a proper room. The spare room is full of a lot of junk that I bought and intended to use but never did.

There's a glockenspiel, an unassembled pool table, a surfboard, a dead body in a suitcase (that smells a bit), a load of tobacco that I found at the dump that I started making into fags to sell (but a visit from some local lads put a stop to that if you know what I mean) and a kareoke machine for fun nights in (that had never been used).

One of the things on that list is a lie by the way.

I wasn't the only one in the mood for sorting stuff out round the house. Today saw (or heard) the second rare outburst from Mr Spoon in as many days. I was lying on the sofa hazy from crack when I heard him banging on the wall. I wondered what he was at but the regular thumping sounded like he was putting up shelves.

Suddenly there was a crash and the sound of something heavy falling on and smashing something ornamental (like a china vase).

"AW FOR FLIP SAKE!" he shouted.

Such a nice polite man, even when he's not in the mood.

Christmas Day at our house

We'd a nice mellow affair at Christmas. Fabian it turns out had bought a few things for me and Battle Cat, all he could afford, which was a tin of BO spray for me and a tin of Pedigree Chum for Battle Cat. It was a nice thought but he bought me Lynx, which now means I'll smell like a 15 year old boy who hasn't showered after PE.

We were settling in for a good game of Gin Rummy with Battle Cat lying sleeping when we heard a knock at our door. I answered it to find it was our other neighbour Mr Spoon. I don't know his real name but he looks like Mr Spoon, anyway he said he had a present for us. I hoped it'd be some of his homemade rhubarb wine but it was an old lp.

He said he saw I had a pet dog (the nosy fucker didn't mention Fabian Wildman) and he thought I was doing a really good thing by taking care of an animal because animals are weaker and look to humans for protection, so he wanted to give me this old lp to remind me that there was still a lot to do to help animals at this time of year.

Here's the track. It's an old christmas song by Adam Faith called Lonely Pup in a Christmas Shop.



I thanked him and didn't invite him in because we were getting ready to have a good smoke of crack. I let Fabian and Battle Cat hear it. They were really unimpressed, Battle Cat started barking loudly and angrily at the lp player. We turned it off before the end. I woke up later to find Battle Cat had shat on the cover. I threw both it and the lp in the bin.