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.

More Songs About The Smoker

I went for a walk down the Lagan Meadows hoping I might find a fiver or a tenner lying around. Why is it that I always find some shit like a letter to an ex-girlfriend or some motivational shit someone's written to convince themselves not to top themselves but no one ever drops a nice fiver or a tenner for poor old Tuesday Kid no fucking way.

I came across Panther Man sitting scabbing some drink off The Indie Kid and telling him all these platitudes. It nice the two of them can hook up and bore the shite out of each other from time to time.

When he saw me the first thing he said was; "Have you ever dreamed about wolves Tuesday Kid?"

"I don't remember much about my dreams," I shrugged.

He gave The Indie Kid a look and said "you see?"

The Indie Kid wrote something down in a wee shitty moleskin jotter on his leg.

"What the fuck are you writing about me?" I asked and took the book from him.

The Smoker never dreams
even though he falls asleep
he cannot see the wolves
even in his dreams.

"So those smoker songs are about me?"

The Indie Kid started to blush. I thought now was a good time to scab a tenner off him but he said they'd spent their last money on alcohol for inspiration for songs.

There wasn't enough in the bottle to get me drunk so I wandered home skint and sober.

Wino Jo hits the road

wino Jo came into the livingroom and spoke to me this morning. He said that he was going to go and visit the Fruitarian. I told him I was sick but when I was better then yes. He said he was going to go today.

He's going to stay long term at the Fruitarian's it'll be nice him sitting eating rotten bananas and tofu. I know he can't stand it but he takes what he's given (he's polite like that) and he knows to go when the money runs low, good old Wino Jo, fucker.

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.

Morning in Belfast

Something about being sick makes me appreciate the ability to get out and stay out of the house. I went the long walk to work this morning and had a dander down Botanic Avenue. I went into the new French cafe, where the hippy shop used to be.

Pretty nice menu, you can't go far wrong with a pancake stack, maple syrup and a big mug of coffee, yummy scrummy.

Old man on Botanic Ave wandering around picking up scraps of paper, and throwing them back down again. Wonder if he thought they were cash, there is a recession I suppose.

Standing at the bus stop opposite The Empire a young man in a tracksuit couldn't keep his hands from down the front of his trousers, maybe he has his wallet down there.

Man on the bus kept doing a Jim McDonald and saying "so it is," all while he sat and shot out random sentences about "that's not how it is," and "you can't expect that for minimum wage". In fairness he seemed to be preparing a conversation he was actually going to (or wanting to) have with his boss rather than just randomly talking to himself.

Went into Waterstones to shoplift but couldn't find a book I wanted. Catcher in the Rye was pure class. I really want to get into this reading thing, any recommendations?

In work I was told that I had to have a back to work interview, it's tomorrow. Never had one of them before. Hope it's not a formality for getting fired.

The Raven Princess Spandex Visits

Working on the assumption that Hot Baby Roy and Wino Jo now live with me, The Raven Princess Spandex was our first foot of the year and she didn't bring money, coal or shortbread like she's supposed to. I'm hoping that her beauty is the good luck we need, or I need.

She was a bit strange with me, probably because last time I saw her I boked on myself. She didn't mention it and I felt that I shouldn't.

She asked if Hot Baby Roy was in and I told her that he wasn't. Even though he was up in his bed sleeping. It reminds me of last year when Fabian Wildman and Betty Blue were together and fucking all over the house even though Hot Baby Roy and The Raven Princess Spandex haven't fucked yet (so far as I know).

He keeps saying he's going to visit sex shops on Gresham St and buy a whip for her to hurt him with. I offered him a baseball bat and he considered it but no.

I asked him if they were a couple and he said not yet. I asked him about Princess Cheetara and he says if I leave her for a while she might get me mixed up with Wino Jo and then I can that it was him and not me that boked on himself but for now that door was closed.

I think he wants them both for himself and if he gets them both he'll be getting a round or two with the baseball bat from me.

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.

An Unwelcome Guest

I woke up this morning and the house was freezing. I went downstairs to find Clarence lying on the livingroom floor clutching an empty vodka bottle in one hand and rubbing his crotch slowly with the other. He'd Hot Baby Roy's Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging DVD tucked under one arm. It was rotten looking.

"Clarence, how'd you get in here?" I asked.
He just groaned.

Fabian Wildman came down stairs asking why the house was so cold. He said he didn't know how Clarence got in, then we discovered that he'd kicked the back door in while we'd been sleeping.

My first thought was Battle Cat, if he'd ran away again, Clarence was dead meat. I ran out into the back to find him lazing about in the garden. Clarence had left the back gate open. Bastard.

I shut the gate and ran back inside.

Fabian Wildman was already going through Clarence's pockets for money. He shook his head at me to say there wasn't any.

"Who does this bastard think he is?" he said. "This is our home."

It was touching to hear that Fabian Wildman still thinks of this place as his home. We gave Clarence a few gentle shakes to wake him up, then after asking how he was feeling, me and Fabian Wildman beat the shite out of him.

Not So Happy Birthday for Fabian Wildman

Today was Fabian Wildman's birthday so I bought him a cake. I'm skint on the dole so it was a nice big 99p cake from the Spar. Fabian didn't mind because he's in the zentai stage of crack withdrawl. He's jittering about the place skatting morning, noon and night,

scoodley boo scoodley boo scoodley scoodley da da toe toe scooby wooby wooby wooby just hit me now wooby wooby doo doo doo pa pa pa pa de de de de boom

is all you hear from him.

He skats for a bit then he bursts into tears and screams about wanting to see his face. I don't know who's face he means, he's started talking long into the night (between skats) with someone called Boom Fizzle. Boom Fizzle owes him money and won't give it to him. It's something to do with some robbery they've both committed that went horribly wrong. Fabian Wildman wants Boom Fizzle to armwrestle for it. These conversations always end with Fabian Wildman bouncing off the walls in his room. I run in to see what's wrong and Fabian Wildman shouts:

"That mutherfucker Boom Fizzle attacked me, he'll hurt my children, stop him please."

That's when the screaming and crying starts but five minutes later he's back skatting and shaking like a crackhead.

Anyways, he got the cake and said:

"Thanks for this but I'm not sharing it with anyone but Boom Fizzle," then he went to walk upstairs and walked into a wall and squashed the cake against his chest. The whole fucking thing fell on the floor and the only one who got any way Battle Cat.

Fabian Wildman told me I could lick some cream off his chest if I wanted. I told him no and he said that "Boom Fizzle will jump at the chance."

Then the doorbell went. I thought it might be Hot Baby Roy coming to wish him well so I answered it.

It was the peelers again looking for Fabian Wildman. There he was standing covered in cream and in a Zentai. I just said, "no one's here but me and my sweet Boom Fizzle," (this is actually a lie but it sounds cooler than what I did say so fuck it, poetic licence).

The peeler fucked off them and Fabian slithered up the stairs covering them in cream.