I Should Never Go To Parties

Last night was the Raven Princess Spandex's birthday party and me and Wino Jo and Hot Baby Roy were all getting ready to go. I came into the livingroom all dragged up in a nice tasteful evening gown and high heels. It's not often I get to wear drag (neither of them are clued up about it) so a fancy dress party is a great occasion for me to mill around in softer fabrics.

Wino Jo and Hot Baby Roy were all pissed off because they thought we should go as The Beastie Boys but I said that no one would get that and they huffed and puffed and said that I was a rare boy in my dress and I told them that they should try it, they did and said that it actually felt nice and that we should all go as girls.

We were all kinkied up and headed round to the party. The door was answered by Princess Cheetara who was dressed up as Supergirl and not Cheetara from the Thundercats as I had hoped.

The Raven Princess Spandex was dressed up as old-skool Catwoman Julie Newmarr. We weren't right in until I noticed Rock and Roll Stephen and the Indie Kid all done up as the Libertines (the jackets were pretty close to the real deal) all set to sing some songs.

It was only after the first one "Ballad of The Smoker" that I twigged who they were singing about. Here's the lyrics:

"The Smoker smokes, but is it tobacco?
Is it for release?
Is it because he thinks he's cool
like my idol Pete Doherteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

They kept giving me smirky looks during the song and The Indie Kid even looked at Princess Cheetara and licked his lips. I was about to wade in with my fists flying when a nice spide (not sure if he was in fancy dress or not) waded into them with:

"What's this shite, are you two fruits?"

then he grabbed the guitar off The Indie Kid and nutted Rock and Roll Stephen in the face. This half stopped the party before it started. I realised that the house was teaming with spides.

Princess Cheetara came over and was laughing away about Rock and Roll Stephen getting nutted. I felt like shit, she's a big millie.

Hot Baby Roy and Wino Jo didn't seem to care, but I cared. I watched as they followed the Leotard Girls round the house like sappy puppies, while the Leotard Girls went to great lengths to tell stories that were all about someone getting demeaned and ended with "It was some craic!"

How had I been so blined by beauty and spandex? How?

Art School Confidential

The party was a strange affair. Hot Baby Roy was on his best behaviour and have even had a wash (not just himself, his clothes!).
I don't know much about art beyond a few chats with Betty Blue, and even then I only know some weird facts (they're the only ones that stick in my head).

My nerves got the better of me and I got fairly pished early on. Some guy sat talking to me about how he wanted his house covered in Mother of Bowling Ball just like his electric rock and roll grunge guitar. And how he doesn't like that his girlfriend likes to hang out with asshole graffiti guys down at Pilot St. I told him that graffiti was cooler than mother of bowling ball any day of the fucking week. Then I went to the toilet and boked all over the show. Nasty as fuck. I fell asleep hugging the bowl.

I woke up at about midnight with someone banging at the door telling me that they needed to pish. I told them to find a beer can. They shouted back.

"I can't, I'm a gurl."

In one of those shit American accents people over here pick up watching shite like Gilmore Girls and Party of Five.

I wondered out of the bathroom and found a sofa to sleep on. I woke up to find this guy putting make up on my face. I told him if he was still here when I came back from washing my face he was in a lot of trouble.

As it was, the girl who wanted a pish had fallen asleep too, (she must have been hugging the bowl too). She came out looking dazed. As it turned out she loved the make up and said (this is verbatim):

"I like to go a little trans-gender too sometimes."

Then I stuck the lips on her. Rock on.

It was a fucking great party.

Johnny Davro and Peace Man come to a Jam

Today I was jamming with the sweaty metallers. It was wild, I was screaming at the top of my lungs. It was a new song and there were no lyrics yet so I just kept screaming about Satan! and Sex!

Johnny Davro and Peace Man were there, they are the coolest dudes in the city and they make the scene. If they go to a gig and stay for longer than one beer then whatever band are onstage have made it in Belfast.

In the middle of the jam Johnny Davro got up and started dancing all slow and metaphorically. Peace Man sat clicking his fingers. The sweaty metallers stood there nodding proudly between each other. Then when the song ended Johnny Davro asked me if I'd ever heard of Rimbaud? I thought he said Rambo so I nodded excitedly. He smiled a knowing smile and said:

"I thought I heard some of his influences in there."

After he left, the sweaty metallers said that he must like me because he said more to me today that he's said to members of his own family in his entire life.

I felt so cool I skipped next door and told Fabian Wildman, he was too busy slithering around the floor in his Zentai screaming:

"Mummy let me lick the bowl!"

I know how he feels. I love to lick the bowl.

Foosted Wotsit Head has More Dreams

Sorry I haven't been blogging so much recently but my life is now a whirl of Heavy Metal Vomit Parties and Electric Rock and Roll Guitar. So much so that I've been neglecting nearly everything except partying down and licking the bowl. It's great. I went to a party in the Four Winds yesterday and there was mudwrestling ladies there. I have been having so much fun that I've forgotten to take Battle Cat for walkie but luckily racist Fabian is doing it. I've forgotten so much that I heard a rapping at my door the other night and answered it to find Foosted Wotsit Head standing outside crying.

He told me that he's having nightmares about a violent encounter with Wino Jo and he's scared he did something to him.

I told him if he has I'd personally see to it that he gets kicked down a flight of stairs. He started to get edgy and twitchy and told me that he could do violent things to me, he said he's the best streetfighter out of the scabby nettle gang. He has a twitchy wee rock and roll step that he uses to sort boyos like me out.

"Oh yeah?" I said. "Well I've got a Heavy Metal step."

Then I booted him through a double glazed window. Then I picked up a flying V guitar and played a smokin' hot electric solo.

I have cool things on my mind

Sorry I haven't posted much this week. I've been lying in bed wanking away about the yankie doodle dandy. It made me think I've got to go and get me a girlfriend, one who makes me feel cool all the time!

I asked Fabian Wildman if he wanted to go to a rock and roll vomit party where I could meet ladies of questionable age and gender.

He told me he wouldn't because you're no one at those parties if you can't play guitar or bongos and don't have a Prince Albert.

I screamed the house down. This just isn't fair. I've wasted all my time smoking crack and feeling lonely and cool while geeks have been up in their bedrooms learning cool tunes or out getting their willies pierced.

The Sweaty Metallers and Mr Spoon came round to ask me to keep it down but I just stood in the hall screaming and balling my eyes out.

One of the Sweaty Metallers gave me a big hug and said I must be a nice guy and that he liked my scream. He said he wants me to sing for his Sweaty Metal band and that we'd never stop having Rock and Roll Vomit Parties.

This is the beginning of cool times!

Indie Wank Boy Gets Fucked in the Mouth Part 2

When I came round this morning I felt awful. I sat in my room and shook for ages.

Fabian Wildman came in and asked was I okay. He says he could hear my bed jingle and it didn't sound like wanking.

I told him about hitting the Razorlight fan.

He asked if I wanted him to go and talk to him and settle things. It was a kind offer but I really need to start sorting some of my own messes out.

He said it was okay because he remembers how I cleaned up his boke when he gave up and that's why he doesn't mind doing the same for me now.

I told him I'd take this one.

I had a shower and went over the road with a wee present for the indie boy.

He opened the door and looked all scared at me.

"I've just come over to say sorry about hitting you last night," I said.

He looked like he wasn't buying it.

"I've a wee present for ye," I said. "Can I come in?"

He opened the door and stood back.

I gave him a bit of paper that said "Johnny Borrell".

"Let me tell you how I got this," I said. "Years ago Johnny Borrell was on crack like me. He went to Donaghadee to help him give it up. I met him when he was there. He was always walking around, wearing sunglasses and playing electric rock and roll guitar. I told him that I thought he was a cool dude. I told him I thought he'd go far and be famous. I asked him for his autograph because when I saw him on tv I wanted to be able to say I was the first person to get his autograph. So he gave it to me. And now I'm giving it to you."

You should have seen the wee indie lad's face light up. It was like I'd just shown him how to levitate because he could have floated by the look on his face.

He offered me a smoke of a spliffy but I told him I was grand as long as we were cool.

He said we were.

I wished him luck and left.