Yesterday I went for a big long walk to clear my head and I think I stayed out too long because today I've been sneezing and coughing and bringing up nasty green spit.
I took the cough bottle and sat having a good old wheeze to myself. One of the sweaty metallers called round about something or other, I'm not sure what, but I made him kiss my hand, and he asked if he could lick my fingers.
I told him no.
He fucked off after that and Fabian Wildman told me he thinks there's trouble brewing.
I asked him to fetch me some scissors because I needed to defend myself in my weak state.
He reminded me that's why we have a big mean dog, and I reminded him that Battle Cat was a gentle soul and liked to play and not bite anyone.
He relented and brought me scissors, but he took hours to find them. In the end I refused them because I don't really trust myself with them.
I boked in a glass beside my bed and threw it out my window onto the street below. Nasty business being sick.
Showing posts with label fingers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fingers. Show all posts
Thursday, 30 July 2009
Friday, 6 March 2009
Those Poor Shops of Belfast
We have new neighbours. I heard them moving in yesterday. Two big sweaty metallers. When I saw them move in I was so shocked I just blurted out:
"Hello Sweaty Metallers, do yous worship the devil?"
"Get fucked you spidey ballbag," one of them said flipping me da bird.
Then I explained that I wasn't judging him it was just that the peeps who used to live there were satanists.
"Do you want your shit kicked in?" he asked, thinking I was just taking the piss more.
It wouldn't have been right to slap them around the place, because I'm sure they get people saying this shit to them all the time. I went inside. I figured I'd go round another time and introduce myself properly.
Fabian came home today in tears. When I asked him what was wrong he said that he'd caught a wee kid shop lifting and called the cops, when the cops came it was the same ones that busted him last year. The cop didn't recognise him but Fabian realised there and then what a scumbag he was.
"So you're not going to catch shoplifters anymore?" I asked.
"No!" he spat. "I'm a scumbag for thieving. Those poor shops of Belfast."
One of the chairs in our kitchen has a wonky leg. If he'd been sitting on it I'd have kicked it out from under him. But as it was he was on a sturdy seat.
"Hello Sweaty Metallers, do yous worship the devil?"
"Get fucked you spidey ballbag," one of them said flipping me da bird.
Then I explained that I wasn't judging him it was just that the peeps who used to live there were satanists.
"Do you want your shit kicked in?" he asked, thinking I was just taking the piss more.
It wouldn't have been right to slap them around the place, because I'm sure they get people saying this shit to them all the time. I went inside. I figured I'd go round another time and introduce myself properly.
Fabian came home today in tears. When I asked him what was wrong he said that he'd caught a wee kid shop lifting and called the cops, when the cops came it was the same ones that busted him last year. The cop didn't recognise him but Fabian realised there and then what a scumbag he was.
"So you're not going to catch shoplifters anymore?" I asked.
"No!" he spat. "I'm a scumbag for thieving. Those poor shops of Belfast."
One of the chairs in our kitchen has a wonky leg. If he'd been sitting on it I'd have kicked it out from under him. But as it was he was on a sturdy seat.
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