The Unemployable Hot Baby Roy

Me and Hot Baby Roy have both ran out of dole at the same time. So we're both talking about where we're going to rob. I've told him to stay away from Dunnes because they might recognise him from going in with me.

He thanked me for the tip off and said that he felt greatful. It seemed like we were talking more open and freely about ourselves than we'd done in a long time so I asked him:

"Do you ever look for work Hot Baby Roy?"

"No," he said shaking his head. "I'm unemployable. I'm blacklisted with every recruitment agency in Belfast. I'd show up for the new job, sometimes I'd smoke crack to get over the nerves, or try some office flirting. It never went my way. It wasn't my fault, I wanted a job and to be the hot boy in the office but I found out that that doesn't suit me. It's just a foolish dream. So I thought about getting together my own little pub quiz. You know, kick out the people using mobile phones, cheeky winks and bonus points for hot ladies but no one wanted to help me buy my dream. I asked everywhere. No one wanted to help me. No one wanted Hot Baby Roy to succeed. And that's why I steal because no one gave me what I wanted when I asked for it."

So off we went out for theft. Hot Baby Roy came home late, drunk with no booty and a black eye.

He said he didn't want to talk about it, and had maybe said more than was smart earlier.

A Nice Day on the Sofa

This morning I broke the bad news of my firing to Hot Baby Roy and Wino Jo, they both started shouting at me about how could I do this? And how I couldn't go back on the dole. I reminded them that they both were on the dole and that maybe now they could stop scabbing off me and go out and find jobs and treat me to the spoils of their hard earned jobs.

They both started shouting again and I just went back upstairs and had a snooze. When I woke up neither of them were in the house so I went down and sat on the sofa with Battle Cat. I told him that I was fired but I wasn't going to stay on the dole long because I want money. I just want a better job than the shit one I had.

There was fuck all on TV so we watched a Chuck Norris DVD were Chuck stares down a bear. I don't know why everyone goes on about Chuck being all hard. I'd slap the ginger wee pishflap about with my big toe.

Back on the Dole and Dreams of Cheryl Cole

Sitting shivering at my desk yesterday and coughing so much I had to keep putting customers on hold, London Girl came over and said that I was spending an unacceptable amount of time on calls. I told her all about my cough and she said that she had noticed how much I'd been spitting in the bin and how this was unacceptable too.

I turned to my screen and spat on it a nice big green and red phlegm bomb.

She walked away all startled and Little My said "yer pure fucked naw."

Then a call came through on my phone and I said "You're not getting your money back," and hung up.

I braced myself as I saw Truffle Shuffle and The Huffy Tortoise coming waltzing across the floor with London Girl all startled and teary eyed.

The Huffy Tortoise waved his fingers at me to come here, I waved two fingers back at him to go away.

Then they said that I was to hand over my security pass and leave the building. I repeated my two fingered gesture and Truffle Shuffle grabbed my top.

"I told him if he didn't get his hands off me he'd be getting sued like the fat squaddie mutherfucker that he was."

The trio waltzed away again like a gang of mutherfuckers and five minutes later someone from HR came in and told me that I needed to leave or they'd be sending security to shift me.

I asked her when was I getting this months money and she said that I'd be paid on the normal date.

I stood up and went to make a rousing speech about how call centres are the modern day work factories that killed Victorian children but instead of us losing arms or legs these places took our souls! But I coughed and boked my ring up and slid all across the floor on it before these burly security guards ran into the room and grabbed me and fucked me out of there.

I stood out on the street and shouted that I'd be back with a snooker cue to fuck them up but when I got home I felt relieved that I was no longer in work and fell asleep having a sly wank to Cheryl Cole at the Brits, she'll be back on the market soon after Ashley has been exposed as a cheating scumbag. She wasn't wearing her wedding ring, maybe I could put one there.

Spare Keys and Credit Card Details

I had to go and get a key cut on my lunch break today because Hot Baby Roy said he never had one last time he stayed. He said that Fabian Wildman must have kept his after he moved out. I didn't like the idea of him running about with a key because if he goes back onto crack he'll come round on the rob.

My boss was nice to me today, not especially just really cheery, which if my memory serves me (and with all the crack I've smoked sometimes it doesn't) means I'm about to get the boot. I made note of two wanky customers credit card details today, no sense ripping off nice people.

On the way home I thought up a song about needing money and asking people to spare change. I wrote it down but I saw a tramp in the rain with not much in his cup so I gave it to him. Should have kept it, might need it in a few weeks.

Heil Fabian!

I've been a bit disturbed about Fabian Wildman's drunken outbursts and rather than blow up at him and start going over a load of old PC shite I decided to take the softly softly approach. Basically if he's recently been talked into this, it might be easy enough to talk him out of it.

So I sat down with him last night and asked what the craic was?

He told me that he wasn't a racist but that he didn't want poles taking our jobs.

I asked him if it was because he got fired.

He said no it wasn't.

I asked him if he thought that it was right that people from this country go all over the world taking jobs.

He shrugged and then showed me a text he'd got with a polish joke on it about how a hundred poles died in belfast last night when the bed 60 of them were sleeping on collapsed killing them and the 40 sleeping underneath.

I told him I didn't think it was funny. I asked him if he was upset about other stuff.

"No," he replied. "I just want to huff gas all day."

Then he brought out his 5 lighters for a pound and started huffing away.

This isn't over yet.