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.

That's all folks!

Yesterday was my birthday and it started me thinking about it being time to wind the blog down. I've a lot going on in my life at the mo and the blog isn't so easy to keep up.

I've been at it two years now and it's been great. I've went from being a sad crack head who was secretly the coolest dude in town to everyone knowing just how mutherfucking cool I can rock. I've played electric rock and roll guitar solos, talked to daemons and kissed lots of sexy girls.

I've enjoyed massive support from the rest of the blogging community, particularly the Northern Irish blogging community. I'm not saying this is it for good but for now that's me.

Thanks for reading, I might post on here from time to time so it's not a total goodbye but if you do want some other good blogs to read in the meantime there's plenty listed down the side there.

Post Sex Sex Face (What the fuck that means?)

What a shite week I've had. The Punchbowl Girl is actually away for two weeks so she'll miss my birthday. Fuck that.

I've sat round the house wondering how to avoid conversations with Wino Jo about how he's fallen off the wagon and when he's going to get back on it and get the fuck back to wherever he was before I found him in a bin.

I've just been staying late at work and hating it too. They've lost a few contracts and it's us dicks on the floor that are getting the blame for it. We've been told no reading at the desks, no eating sweets from the machine, no fuck all.

One of the bosses walks up and down the floor glaring at people like he's cock of the walk even though his cock probably doesn't work any more. I'd love to have him a street fight; I'd destroy him, it's be so great watching him trying to throw the digs and getting wasted everytime he'd thought he'd connected.

Speaking of kickings I can't wait to get my hand on that cunt Mother of Bowling Ball.

A Family Update

My Fruitarian Brother showed up at my house today. I haven't seen any of my brothers in ages.

He was telling me that Wino Jo is getting out of hand. He's still off the booze but telling everyone that they're wrong about everything from what music they listen to to how they see society. I told him that he was being a dick at the end of living here and not letting Hot Baby Roy watch his teen romances.

Then he said that our Hot Shot Banker Brother was fed up trying to make his millions banking and turned to gambling, everyone thought it was a turn for the worse, except he was really good at it and after a few lucky big wins had fucked off to Switzerland rich as fuck. He posted him back pictures of him skiing and in a jacuzzi with lots of girls and a message on the back saying "which one for my wife?"

He said that he was thinking about going vegan (the phase before he goes full on fruitarian) and that our metaller brother was still listening to screaming hot electric heavy metal rock and roll solos on his hifi.

And that was it for the family update. Nice to catch up once in a while.

I asked him if he wanted some pancakes and he sat for a few but I'm sure he barfaramma'd them up in the bogs before he left. Yuk!

He said that it was his birthday next month and he wanted us to have an ethical party at his house. I don't know what an ethical party is but it sounds like the sort of thing to put Wino Jo back on the booze.

A Rotten Fucking Set Up

Yesterday was the budget and I'm not sure about what it holds for Northern Ireland. All I know is that we're so dependent on the mainland that if there's cuts we're fucked in some way. I no longer think David Cameron doesn't care if his wife doesn't cum. I think he does, I don't know. All I know is that I think George Osborne doesn't care. He might not even be able to get it up. I told myself I wasn't going to cry but I did. I did so much.

There's a lot of talk about cutting benefits. If you cut money from the poor they will turn to crime. That's all I do know.

Nanny Boo Boo called me to ask if I wanted to come down to her house for a piss up. I jumped at the chance. She said to bring Battle Cat because she hadn't seen him in ages. She even said to bring down Hot Baby Roy because she felt bad about not coming to his birthday and no one should be on their own at their birthday.

We marched down to Stranmillis, me, the mutt, Hot Baby Roy and Hot Firey Love Lady (don't ask). We started the booze before we got there and I felt like the leader of a gang. I thought I might bump into my protege but the streets were clear. When I reached Nanny Boo Boo's the lights were out. I knocked on the door and she answered it looking a bit edgy.

She ushered us in and I saw that there was a big cake on the table and a banner on the wall saying Happy Birthday.

"Keep quiet," she said as she ushered us into the living room. "He's nearly here."

It was too late to leave and I only just clocked that she was throwing a party for Fabian Wildman. I nearly stormed out but she gave me a look like she was only trying to be nice. I know she thinks we should be mates again but I don't like the ballbag any more.

Then the door went.

Nanny Boo Boo answered it and her and him came into the livingroom.

She started singing happy birthday and the rest of us joined in half heartedly.

He looked happy to see us but then again he looked like he was back on crack with his scrawny scruffy giggling dirty way. He came up and started talking eagerly to me about how it was good to see me again and all that. He was so happy to see Battle Cat. I hoped Battle Cat would bite him but he offered his paw.

Fabian is such a mess nowadays. He told me pretty quickly he was back on crack and that he's living with this guy who catches birds and murders them. He doesn't like it but not many people want to live with a crackhead.

He went to talk to Hot Baby Roy and I had a chance to say to Nanny Boo Boo that she should have told me what she'd planned.

"Please stay for a bit, it'll do him good to see you," she kept saying.

I stayed for a few drinks but I really didn't want to see the rotten bastard. Hot Baby Roy was all happy to be showing off that he'd a girlfriend and Fabian was trying to work some of his old charm on her but she was having none of it. I bet he even wanked in his hair before he came here.

I hate being set up.

Not So Happy Birthday Hot Baby Roy

Yesterday was Hot Baby Roy's party. He was so excited and I'd been sitting with my fingers crossed that someone was going to show. I'd managed to get a crisis loan off the dole and I bought him a Mr T keyring and a Hollyoaks Girls calender that had been reduced to 50p because it was half defunct.

Hot Baby Roy was all talking about the presents he was going to get and about how he'd put a note through the leotard girls' letterbox saying they were very welcome but Rock and Roll Stephen wasn't.

I sat watching the clock crossing my fingers so tight I left big purple tracks in them. A few taxis pulled up in the street and I thought it was going to get a bit easier but the people who got out went next door. I couldn't believe the leotard girls were throwing a party on the same night like they were trying to say fuck you to Hot Baby Roy. The longer we sat the more people went next door and no one came near us. Then at about half nine. Hot Baby Roy started to drink the bottle of vodka Nanny Boo Boo sent, and then he started to cry.

"Nobody came," he kept saying. And he started hugging Battle Cat and crying even more. "I want friends," he said.

I felt bad for him. Nobody came, not even just to pop in and say happy birthday. He didn't even get a text. He started to say that he thought moving in with me was going to be the start of him having a social life and that when he started to make friends with the leotard girls he thought maybe he'd get a girlfriend but now it was his birthday he saw that people just were having a laugh at him and he was going to go next door with a baseball bat and show mutherfuckers what time it was.

I tried to talk to him to calm him down, I told him that me and him should go out for the night, that I was his friend and that I wanted him to have a happy birthday.

He was a sorry mess by the time we hit the city. He was plastered and boked a few times on our way there. I don't know how we managed to get in anywhere.

We ended up in Lavery's back bar swinging and dancing like wild apes. No one wanted to kiss or cuddle us and we ended up sitting down for most of the night. I bought Hot Baby Roy a few pints and he fell asleep. I walked about looking for someone to talk to and ended up boking in the bogs for a wee bit. Then when I came back to him he was away. I looked for him and found him sitting talking to another wee ginger girl. She and him had twisted up faces like they were commiserating each other on not having things a bit more like they'd like them.

I left him to it, hoping that he'd pull her. He's still in bed, that or he didn't come home. I'm going for a long walk to ease my hangover.

Still Just Me and Hot Baby Roy for his Party

I went down to visit Nanny Boo Boo today to ask if she wanted to go to Hot Baby Roy's party and she said that she didn't. She tried to be nice about it but she gave me a bottle of vodka and said to say happy birthday to him for her.

At least she gave him something which is more than I'll do. I've no money and I'm scared of going on the rob. I think I've lost my nerve for it but I have to get him something.

I asked her when her birthday was and she said that it had been last year when she went to London. I asked her why didn't she tell me and she said that if she had I'd have asked her her age and we'd have fallen out but she knows I'd have said happy birthday and then we drunk loads and forgot about it.

"It's My Birthday So You Have To Sleep With Me"

So Hot Baby Roy's been getting all excited and asking me who I'm inviting to his party. I know he thinks the Leotard Girls are top of the list and that he's going to get a "it's my birthday you have to sleep with me" fuck off the Raven Princess Spandex but it's not going to happen. Even before I went next door to invite them I knew they weren't coming.

So I get invited in and The Raven Princess Spandex is saying that she likes Hot Baby Roy but that he hit Rock and Roll Stephen and she thought that was mean, even though it was one of her spidey fucker friends that knocked Rock and Roll Stephen's teeth out. She says she knows but that things are different now and she's been hanging out with him and she likes him and that Hot Baby Roy is in a bad place and blah blah blah. She's into Rock and Roll Stephen and Hot Baby Roy can go and fuck basically. I knew this was going to happen, basically because Rock and Roll Stephen is a good looking guy and Hot Baby Roy isn't. That's not a dig at gingers, he just isn't handsome and doesn't carry himself in a way that makes girls want him.

That basically leaves the list at me, him and Battle Cat.

I asked the Raven Princess Spandex if The Death Owl had shown up again and she said that her and Princess Cheetara had just made it up because Rock and Roll Stephen had told her about how I was scared of the Death Owl and used to fancy the girl that lived here and she had to move away because I was always following her around.

Fuck them.

I'm Mr Blue

I know I haven't been posting much and it's a kind of excuse that I've been depressed but it's an even bigger one that nothing much has been happening. I sometimes go looking for a blog post when I don't have one. I pick up bits of paper I find lying on the ground hoping that there's something funny/interesting written there but that recently I've found nothing but boring scribbles that I can't really read.

I spend a lot of time online filling in job applications that I never recieve replies to. I wank a lot, and cry a bit too.

Today Hot Baby Roy told me that it was his birthday next week and he asked if he could have a party here. I said yes but I don't know who he'll invite most people I know either think he's a pervert or want to give him a kicking (most of them think both).

I thought this year was going to be fun. I'm blue.

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 Long Fucking Day

Yesterday was a weird one. Firstly it was my fruitarian brother's birthday. I haven't heard anything from any of them since my "intervention" so I didn't really know what to do. In the end I sent him a text and I got one back saying some balls about how he's thinking of going off meat again. I'll look forward to missing this intervention.

Secondly one of the sweaty metallers moved out. There was loads of shouting about how the other was "a spandex licking mutherfucker" mutherfucker was emphasised in that way that metallers sometimes do when they're wanting to get extra metal about something.

Fabian's thinking he might move in there. I think he should just stay here. The cops haven't been round in ages.

I asked him why didn't bring round Sandcastles and The Unicorn Girl again. He said that they'd been scared off by Hot Baby Roy and especially Clarence. Clarence told the Unicorn Girl that he liked to get drunk at the weekends and slap the fuck out of indie kids. Me and good king thumpo did this once but I didn't say. Fabian saw I looked upset but he didn't know why. He said he was seeing them again tonight and he'd say to them about maybe calling round again.

After he left Hot Baby Roy called round in tears saying that he couldn't find his Bratz DVD, he'd left it here but I was so pissed off I told him I hadn't seen it. He said he was going to bring round Wild Child someday soon because there was a hot dance routine in it, he saw I wasn't impressed so he added, "and there's stuff about emotions and friendship in it too."

Not So Happy Birthday for Fabian Wildman

Today was Fabian Wildman's birthday so I bought him a cake. I'm skint on the dole so it was a nice big 99p cake from the Spar. Fabian didn't mind because he's in the zentai stage of crack withdrawl. He's jittering about the place skatting morning, noon and night,

scoodley boo scoodley boo scoodley scoodley da da toe toe scooby wooby wooby wooby just hit me now wooby wooby doo doo doo pa pa pa pa de de de de boom

is all you hear from him.

He skats for a bit then he bursts into tears and screams about wanting to see his face. I don't know who's face he means, he's started talking long into the night (between skats) with someone called Boom Fizzle. Boom Fizzle owes him money and won't give it to him. It's something to do with some robbery they've both committed that went horribly wrong. Fabian Wildman wants Boom Fizzle to armwrestle for it. These conversations always end with Fabian Wildman bouncing off the walls in his room. I run in to see what's wrong and Fabian Wildman shouts:

"That mutherfucker Boom Fizzle attacked me, he'll hurt my children, stop him please."

That's when the screaming and crying starts but five minutes later he's back skatting and shaking like a crackhead.

Anyways, he got the cake and said:

"Thanks for this but I'm not sharing it with anyone but Boom Fizzle," then he went to walk upstairs and walked into a wall and squashed the cake against his chest. The whole fucking thing fell on the floor and the only one who got any way Battle Cat.

Fabian Wildman told me I could lick some cream off his chest if I wanted. I told him no and he said that "Boom Fizzle will jump at the chance."

Then the doorbell went. I thought it might be Hot Baby Roy coming to wish him well so I answered it.

It was the peelers again looking for Fabian Wildman. There he was standing covered in cream and in a Zentai. I just said, "no one's here but me and my sweet Boom Fizzle," (this is actually a lie but it sounds cooler than what I did say so fuck it, poetic licence).

The peeler fucked off them and Fabian slithered up the stairs covering them in cream.