That Kicking Didn't Go According To Plan Then

It was such a simple plan; I had his address and I was on my way round to Mother of Bowling Ball's to give him the kicking of his life.

Instead I spend last night sitting in casualty.

I left work early complaining of having a dicky tummy, which was a complete lie. I was fighting fit. I went home to do some press-ups (not too many because they tire you out, just enough so I'd be all big and fearsome looking). I took no weapons with me; this was going to be a clean street brawl. I thought about texting Hot Baby Roy so he could come and watch, maybe even lay a few digs in while Mother of Bowling Ball was flat on his back crying. But no, Hot Firey Love Lady would try to stop me, this was going to run as smooth as Barry White sliding out of a fridge.

On the way over I did a Rocky Run and thought maybe some street kids would run along with me because they knew I was the champ. I stopped just round the corner from the house to get my game plan together. I was going to have to knock the door, storm in when it was opened and slam it behind me. If it wasn't Mother of Bowling Ball that answered the door I was going to have to tear the place apart to find him.

There was a sound coming from inside a bin like a dog had a toothy accident when licking it's balls. It was distracting me and I needed focus. I opened the lid to see Wino Jo in there with a big yellow face half hiccoughing, half screaming.

"Wino Jo? What the fuck are you at?"

He couldn't remember. He banged about inside the bin until it fell over, then he crawled out and boked all over the alleyway.

He's off the wagon then. Worse than that he'd been drinking Turgenev (vodka and Berroca) all day. Bad fucking move. Because Berroca is full of vitamins you're only really supposed to have one glass of the stuff. It gives you a nice kick if you're trying to keep a bender going but no way should you get drunk on it.

The Turgenev left in the bottle was the colour of a happy horses pish (yellow - not clear). I took him to the city hospital where we had to wait for hours to get seen. I kept getting water into Wino Jo and making him go to the toilet to boke. By the time we were seen he was a complete mess but he was past the worst of it. The doctor just sent us home and asked me to keep an eye on him.

Yes he's back at mine, he's off the wagon. I don't know how long either is going to be fore but I hope both are not long.

On The Scent of Mother of Bowling Ball

Gingerella and Hot Baby Roy came back late from casualty. I was in my bed and stayed there. She stayed overnight. In the morning I woke up in time to hear her leave. I threw some clothes on me and set off up the road after her. Determined that I was going to find out where she lived and kick fuck out of Mother of Bowling Ball.

She caught a bus at the end of the street and there the trail went cold, because I'd no money and all buses lead to the city centre. I'll find out where she lives soon enough and when I do Mother of Bowling Ball will rue the fucking day.

Hot Baby Roy Gets Dug

Last night was spent in casualty at the City Hospital. Hot Baby Roy called round looking like someone had kicked his fuck in. I was a bit pissed off because I haven't seen him in a while. I almost told him to go fuck but when I had a good look at him I felt sorry for him. He'd a big fuck off black eye and a real sorry for himself look on his face. There was blood pissing out of his nose and he couldn't straighten his arm properly.

I put my coat on and took him to casualty. The taxi driver was a right dick. He almost didn't let Hot Baby Roy in because he was bleeding. I told him if he got any on the seats I'd pay for the cleaning (but I'd no intention of doing this).

Once at casualty there was a sign up saying said we'd only have a few hours to wait. This wasn't so bad because there was a newspaper with sudoku on it which I sat and worked with while Hot Baby Roy babbled on about what he'd been up to.

He started talking about how he'd seen Mother of Bowling Ball and asked him not to hurt me.

I asked him was that what happened him. He said no and that he'd been giving his sex man speech to some totally hot babes in Lavery's when he got his balls kicked up and out through his mouth (this is a metaphor apparently) by their baddie boyfriends.

"I wish they'd let me fight them one at a time," he kept saying. Or shouting, he was getting really emotional and I had to make menacing eye contact with some other sick people.

We eventually got called after 8 hours and stuck in a wee shit cubicle for another hour. We were so bored when we were in there we started looking round for things to steal. Hot Baby Roy found some incontinence nappies and said he'd love to get some wee Methody doll in one.

I couldn't find anything to beat that so I sat and huffed. The cool doctor came in after a bit and gave Hot Baby Roy some stroke tests and wiggled his arm about. It was all a bit balls really. We got send home with instructions for Hot Baby Roy to come back if he starts projectile vomiting.