Dull Again

Work is dull, it's repetitive, it's safe, it's dull and grey. I went to the canteen to buy some fruit pastels from the vending machine, hoping to inject a little colour into my afternoon but the machine ate my money and chuckled as it kept the fruit pastels from me. A tear the size of my balls rolled down my face but it was see-through and as colourless as my job.

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.

First Day on the Floor

So today I was in bright and breezy at nine for my first day on the floor taking calls. It's such a sweat shop. We were threw down to answering calls and having fuckers rant at us fullscale from the word hello, actually we've this pish script to recite at the start of the call, it's not as bad as what dicks at McDonalds have to say but it's not as accurate as "If you're going to be a dick to me, fuck off," which I'm gonna say if this keeps up.

People came round and every so often asked if we were doing alright but when we said no they didn't really do much.

I was called off to the side by my manager for telling a woman that I only just started working here and had never spoken to her before because she was sitting going, "you did _____" and "you did _____" and then later I was called again for telling a customer to stop spitting (I thought this was funny but the manager didn't).

Not much of a start, but a start at least (or most).

No Job and No Dog

I just found out I didn't get the job, and there's no sign of Battle Cat. I've ran out of places to look, all I can do now is just call the dog warden and repost my gumtree ad.

Fuck this!

How Do You Like Your Eggs In The Morning?

So I came downstairs this morning to find that there were no eggs in the fridge. This meant Betty Blue was round. I realised I hadn't seen her in a while.

Fabian came down the stairs in a crappy tracksuit looking gleeful.

"Me and Betty Blue are back on!" he said excitedly.

To be honest I didn't know they were off. I'd been so caught up with the Sweaty Metal band I hadn't noticed. Then I remembered him sitting crying in the livingroom about a month ago. Poor guy, I'm glad they're back together.

"That's great Fabian Wildman," I say "She's pretty cool."

This isn't strictly true, I've barely had a conversation with her but she makes Fabian happy when she's around, so I want to say something nice.

"Yeah, she was going out with some muso dick called Peace Man (oops!) for a few weeks. But that's over, I was acting like a prick anyway. Going over all that nasty shit about foreigners. Sorry if I said it to you I was just pissed off with my shit job, then losing my shit job. I thought it was all about the respectability of having a job until I realised that having a shit one was destroying my self respect. Fuck that. Anyways, gotta go buy some eggs."

He licks his lips greedily at this. He can see from my face that I didn't really get what he was saying. He goes into the living room and sticks on this song.

"This is what I was trying to say. These guys say it better."

Looking for a new hobby

Already I'm hyped because I'm amped. I got up early yesterday morning and licked the bowl. I'm going to need to find a hobby in the coming weeks so I don't get lonely, what with Fabian Wildman having a job. There's only so much dog walking you can do. I think I might start going to the zoo and feeding the animals. I haven't been to Belfast Zoo in years and it'd be nice to go and hang out with all the monkeys and thank fuck one of my ancestors decided to jump down from the tree and walk upright. It's strange to think about how your parents and beyond influenced you. Like all the people who have big wonky heads because their ma's drank booze when they were in the womb.

I thought about researching my family tree but when I said this to Fabian Wildman he said that there was only so much I could find out on line, I'd need money to travel about the show so that was a big no no.

When I asked him for suggestions he gave me a funny look and said - "you could try getting a job."

Fuck me, he hasn't even started and he's already talking like a big capitalist scumbag. See if he starts catching shoplifters I'll loose all faith in humanity.

If he forgets who he is I'll play him this Neil Young song to remind him:

Congratulations Fabian Wildman

Fabian Wildman found out today that he's got the job he applied for, pretty cool. We had a celebratory bottle of Vodka last night and he bought Battle Cat some dog treats. He made me promise not to say the name of the shop on here, so I won't. He also said if anyone works out who he is from this blog he'll let you away with shoplifting (to be honest I think he'll let you away anyway, so go for it).

Betty Blue and Hot Baby Roy came round and we had a right oul knees up. Well done Fabian. I bought him a new Zentai to celebrate, but it was really an excuse to get myself another leotard - leopard skin this time. Yeah!

Meeting my public

Fabian Wildman has a job interview next week. He's very excited about it, even though it's for some pish cheapo shop type affair which I know he'll hate. Since he told me I've been having these thoughts that I'll bump into him in five years time and he'll be like Bell Boy in Quodrophenia and I'll end up riding my scooter off a cliff in mental anguish.

I also spoke to someone today for the first time about my blog who didn't know I wrote it. My hot shot banker brother was on the phone for the first time in ages and he told me about this blog he'd been reading about this crack head who'd gave it up and I should read it because it might give me the nudge to quit. I didn't tell him it was me because I wanted to hear what he said about it. I was surprised he didn't clock it was me, but then again we haven't spoken much in a while and when we do we don't go into detail about what's going on so he wouldn't know much of the stuff on the blog. He must have started reading it recently otherwise he'd have spotted all the mentions he got last year. Oh well, it's me by the way, ha ha.

OG Loc of the Holylands

When Fabian got back yesterday I didn't have the heart to give him the summons. he was taking Betty Blue off for a romantic weekend. I don't know how he was able to afford it but he said that since he's quit crack and not stopped stealing he's got a nice wee packet tucked away.

Once he left I locked Battle Cat in the kitchen and went round to The Death Owl's with a bottle of vodka. I sat outside on the doorstep for hours and drank the bottle. I was going to smash the bottle over his face. One of his neighbours came out and asked me what I wanted. I told him I was going to kick fuck out of The Death Owl when he came home.

He told me I shouldn't mess with The Death Owl because he was a wierdo satanist and at night he could be heard cackling and going over a load of mumbo jumbo.

I told him I was friends with Fabian Wildman who used to live there. He said Fabian was a no good druggy bastard. I told him Fabian was off the crack now and that he wants to get a job.

He said he hadn't a job either but that he had bought decks and he wanted to get lethal on them so he could play at a rave club. He asked me if I wanted to hear him. He took me in and played a mix of beats. I thought he was bollocks. He started doing all this freestyle rap which was arse bisuits.

It was all:

"yo fly homies, I'm so lonely
got me a gun, gonna shoot yer mum,
my shit ain't wack even though I'm not black,
what yo ass think of that?"

I told him he should hire someone else to do the rap but the beats were good.

Then he started into another freestyle just to show I was wrong:

"One day I'll be on top-o-tha-pops
living my dreams cause they don't stop
you'll be smokin crack wit yo druggy mate
and whinnin about how yo life ain't great.
Are you digging my fly rhymes homie?"

I told him he was the greatest rapper I'd ever heard. He told me he couldn't wait for the next election because he voted DUP and was going to do a song to help Sammy Wilson get re-elected. I eyed him suspiciously because if he likes that daemon then he may be in league with The Death Owl. I make my goodbyes and thanked him for his knowledge (see raps) and left. Then I went to the shop and got a permanent marker and wrote OG Loc on his front door. Then I put the empty vodka bottle through The Death Owl's front window and legged it up the fucking road.