Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging Night

Hot Baby Roy called round plastered last night. He brought a DVD of Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging.

"If you like Hermione Granger you'll love this!" he foamed at the mouth as he reached for the DVD player with big greedy hands and greedy eyes.

"Is there magic girls in it?" I asked him.

"Not that kind of magic," he said, "but magic all the same."

As it turned out, it was a film about teenage girls learning about growing up. I didn't like it in the way he thought I would but it seemed a touching wee film anyway, in the end it just bored the fuck out of me. The girl was a grumpy teen who talked like a bucket of melted ice cream. I fell asleep at the part where she goes to get snogging lessons and woke up at the end as the band in the movie (The Stiff Dylans), play a pish song.

There were some bits Hot Baby Roy wanted us to watch twice but we politely (but firmly) said no. After it finished he asked if we fancied seeing Bratz. We told him that we were tired and it could wait til another day but he said one of the girls had a deaf friend. We told him he should bring it another time.

He also kept making hints that he's about to get kicked out of his flat, oh dear.

Pete Doherty Plays Belfast!!

The Indie Kid across the street threw a party last night. A kind of 'let's get the parties started' thing but later he told me (when totally pished and close to tears) that it had all been about getting some of the fine pussy across the street. She didn't show up but there was a motley cast of indie rock and rollers from around Belfast.

Rock and Roll Stephen was there, meaning business, wearing the tightest pair of women's jeans and the tightest perm and his mothers handbag. He'd a wee silver case full of rollies.

I told him he looked like he meant business and he said: "From now on things are going to be full on, with relationships and studying."

I winced and told him that I once met Johnny Borrell in Donaghadee (a lie but the Indie Kid will back me up because he thinks it's true).

For some reason Sexy Carlos was there and he was walking around bare chested with the words "Who do I trust? I trust me!" scrawled across his chest in red lipstick. A thing Rock and Roll Stephen told me he'd stolen from the Manic Street Preachers, I thought it was Scarface.

I got talking to this girl at the punch bowl who told me that she was going to comit suicide when she turned twenty one. I asked her what age she was and she said nineteen. I told her that she should extend it to twenty five because after school and uni there's a lot of fun to be had lying around on the dole playing computer games and smoking crack (if that's your thing, it's not mine any more).

She told me that what I'd just said was profound. I smiled like a dog who's just realised it can lick it's own balls. I pretty much talked to her the rest of the night giving out half-wisdoms which she pretty much lapped up like a cat who'd been left out a bowl of milk by people who aren't it's owners.

Rock and Roll Stephen nearly spoiled it by bringing out a guitar and shouting:

"Who says Pete Doherty can't come to Belfast. Rock and Roll Stephen brings Pete Doherty right here!"

Then he started playing some Pete Doherty but no one really listened. I was glad when he fucked off home in tears.

Tuesday Kid the Teacher - Lesson 1

I went down to Stranmillis today to speak to the wee lad about sticking bangers up cats arses. It turned out he was about 16, 17 and not a wee kid at all. So I slapped the fuck out of him and told him that it was about time he grew out of doing that. He said he'd get the peelers on me because he was too young for me to hit. I told him if he was old enough for the army then he was old enough for me to give a kicking to.

He cried and said that he'd tell his da. I told him that his da had done nothing wrong and I didn't want to slap the fuck out of him but I might let my dog bite him if he gets on my wick about teaching his son the lessons he should have a long time ago.

He asked if I thought it was right that parents hit their kids.

I told him no but that since I was in no position to ground him or stop his pocket money the only option I had was to give him a kicking.

He said that he felt he needed a role model like me in his life, because I was cool and his da was not down wiv da kids (he didn't really say this bit but I could see it in his face, his eyes especially!)

He said he wouldn't hurt cats anymore and asked me to go in for him to the off-licence. I took his money and fucked off home with it. Lesson one.

Humpy Fuckers

I was out walking Battle Cat today when I saw Good King Thumpo. He was all angry and shaking his fist at some oul man out walking his dog.

I asked him how he was and he told me that he had split up with his girlfriend. I didn't know he had a girlfriend but his sort always do (hard fuckers who lick to kick people's fuck in).

I asked him who his girlfriend was and he told me it was some wee hippy doll who did voodoo. The more he talked about it the more it sounded like Hooka and I remembered how crap that had went and I asked him a bit more about her and yes she did indeed have a cat called Gobbolino and a few other things.

Battle Cat woofed excitedly when Gobbolino was mentioned, and I hoped Good King Thumpo wouldn't twig that they used to be mates.

On the one hand I was glad she'd split up from Fat Rab but I started wondering why the fuck she'd went out with Good King Thumpo and not me.

Then Good King Thumpo said he didn't think she was over he last boyfriend. This sucked even more. I told Good King Thumpo he should kick fuck out of him, I hope he does, just for old times sake.

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