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.
Showing posts with label dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dad. Show all posts
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Monday, 24 August 2009
A Visit From Wino Jo
Wino Jo called round today. He was there to make up with me after the intervention. I've a feeling that the others will be calling soon and that he's here to smooth things over first.
He's stayed dry (off the booze) but he's all obsessed about finding Foosted Wotsit head and getting him off the booze too. I told him that Foosted Wotsit head wouldn't be back not ever.
He asked if I'd killed Foosted Wotsit head.
I couldn't believe he'd think me capable.
I told him no, but that I'd thought Foosted Wotsit head killed him, because of all his violent dreams.
We talked about not much for a long time. Then he burst out saying that he thinks we all have addictive personalities in our family. Him to booze, me to drugs, the fruitarian with his health food, the hot shot banker with money and the metaller with heavy metal. I told him that our metaller brother wasn't addicted to metal but he may have a point about the rest of us.
He asked me if I'd think of giving up and I told him I already had, and that I'd a nice house and a puppy dog and was trying to get myself a girlfriend.
He said he was glad about me sorting myself out and he hopes I get a girlfriend. He started to talk about our dad. Who was a drunk himself. He said that he remembers one time as a kid that he boked and dad stuck his face in it and kicked him up the arse. Nasty fucker. I wasn't sure the way he said it if it was his boke or dad's boke but I wouldn't be surprised dad did it either way. He was a sadistic fucker. Anyway the next time Wino Jo boked he made sure it was in a flower pot or somewhere that dad wouldn't spot it; the oul man hated 'poofy flowers' as he called them.
In the end me and Wino Jo took Battle Cat for a nice walk and he caught the train back to my metaller brother's house in foosted Larne. He says he hates it there, there's electric rock and roll smokin' hot guitar solos every night of the week.
He's stayed dry (off the booze) but he's all obsessed about finding Foosted Wotsit head and getting him off the booze too. I told him that Foosted Wotsit head wouldn't be back not ever.
He asked if I'd killed Foosted Wotsit head.
I couldn't believe he'd think me capable.
I told him no, but that I'd thought Foosted Wotsit head killed him, because of all his violent dreams.
We talked about not much for a long time. Then he burst out saying that he thinks we all have addictive personalities in our family. Him to booze, me to drugs, the fruitarian with his health food, the hot shot banker with money and the metaller with heavy metal. I told him that our metaller brother wasn't addicted to metal but he may have a point about the rest of us.
He asked me if I'd think of giving up and I told him I already had, and that I'd a nice house and a puppy dog and was trying to get myself a girlfriend.
He said he was glad about me sorting myself out and he hopes I get a girlfriend. He started to talk about our dad. Who was a drunk himself. He said that he remembers one time as a kid that he boked and dad stuck his face in it and kicked him up the arse. Nasty fucker. I wasn't sure the way he said it if it was his boke or dad's boke but I wouldn't be surprised dad did it either way. He was a sadistic fucker. Anyway the next time Wino Jo boked he made sure it was in a flower pot or somewhere that dad wouldn't spot it; the oul man hated 'poofy flowers' as he called them.
In the end me and Wino Jo took Battle Cat for a nice walk and he caught the train back to my metaller brother's house in foosted Larne. He says he hates it there, there's electric rock and roll smokin' hot guitar solos every night of the week.
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