Help Me I'm Turning Into a DIck

I'm doing that thing that guys who haven't had a shag in ages do. And I haven't had a shag in ages. I look at every girl as a potential ride. I'm not so bad that I'm giving them numbers out of ten but still.

I saw Nanny Boo Boo last night (no I'm not thinking of shagging her) and she was telling me that she's been reading my blog and she knows that I fancy Fabian Wildman's ex-girlfriend and that she hasn't said anything about it but she thinks it could cause a problem between us. I told her that there already was a big problem between us and that Fabian Wildman smelt of piss and had no chance of getting her back.

She said that Fabian was drinking his piss to try to calm his jitters when he was giving up crack and that so far it hadn't worked but him and her were hopeful.

                                   A better use for a bottle of piss

I told her that Betty Blue was seeing some other guy in the office and that I was a bit jealous to start but they seem to be a bit loved up and that there was this other girl I might have a blossoming romance with. And she asked if it was the wee girl who was going to top herself and I said that wasn't a given and that maybe with my stud loving she'd give that idea up completely and get in my bed.

Nanny Boo Boo said she liked to hear me talking like that because she thought I should be out shagging lots of girls. She says that My Protege has himself a girlfriend now and I'm so jealous because he's obviously been using the street skillz I taught him and it seems to work for him but it hasn't for me.

The Punchbowl Girl hasn't been back at work for a few days and I'm starting to worry I've missed an opportunity for sex. We'll see.

How Do I Get Rid of Leotard Parties Next Door?

Fabian Wildman left half a bottle of real piss in my bathroom. I don't know why he didn't piss in the toilet? He's used it many times in the past. I threw it out in the alleyway but then I became paranoid about a wino finding it and drinking it so I put it in the Leotard Girls' bin. I hope it attracts rats to their house because I'm sick of being woken up in the night by their shit leotard parties that I'm never invited to. They had one last night that ended up with a mad scrap in the streets (two spides digging each other in the mouth). The leotard girls stood out in the street cackling away.

I stuck on the TV and watched retards sleeping on Big Brother. Lucky bastards, they don't have spide fuelled leotard parties going on nearby.

Fabian Leaves

Fabian Wildman left this morning. Stanley came round in his car and they shifted their stuff. It was gruesome. He didn't even knock my door to ask for help. I was still pissed off at him for how the party ended. In the end I went down to say goodbye. He said he'd call by and we would still hang out but I think he was lying.

When he went I found that the book I'd stolen for him was left on the coffee table. I was pissed off. I took it into the back yard and let Battle Cat piss on it. Then me and him went down to see Nanny Boo Boo. She asked how the party went. I lied and told her it was a swell affair.

She asked if I'd someone to move in. I told her I wanted to live on my own for a bit. I didn't like living with strangers. She nodded and said that at least I'd Battle Cat to keep me company.

"Aye, he's not much of a conversationalist, are you boy?" I said to him.

He thumped his tail off the ground and kept eating the bowl of scraps Nanny Boo Boo had saved for him.

Then she went in and stuck this tune on and we just sat drinking wine. I was so pished at the end of it all Battle Cat had to walk me home.

Big Old Plans (or new ones)

Getting off crack is exhausting work and spending a lot of Tuesday down the Lagan Meadows really took it out of me. I've been sick in bed ever since. Fabian Wildman gave me a cough bottle and made a joke about how I'm using it for its intended purpose for once.

Being in bed has given me more time to weigh up my situation. I haven't heard from any of my neighbours since but I'll take that as a good thing, for now.

Battle Cat has been up keeping my feet warm and I've been talking to him about how I'm going to stay off crack and get a job and do cool stuff. I'm not sure what yet but I'll figure it out I'm sure.

The first thing I'm going to do is burn my bedsheets because he's just pissed on them. But for now I'll have a wee snooze (no pun intended).

Indie Wank Boy Gets Fucked in the Mouth

I've been dying for a smoke of crack all week and today I couldn't take it any more. I went out to the bin to search for my pipe, to find that the bins had already been emptied. I went in the house and started pacing up and down the living room thinking about how I could get myself some crack and be back here and high in under an hour.

Then I went to the cupboard and found a bottle of Vodka. I thought if I'd a few slugs of it it'd calm me down. I downed it in about ten minutes and felt great for about half an hour then I boked all over the place and passed out.

When I woke up the house was empty and in darkness.

I went across the street still a bit pissed to speak to the indie dick who filmed me pishing through Hooka's letter box.

"What do you want?" he said.

I grabbed him by the throat.

"What do you think you're at videoing me with your phone you wee wanker?"

Some Razorlight rock and rollers came piling out of the livingroom.

"Let go of him bozo," they said.

"Okay," I said letting him go. "I want you to destroy that video."

He started laughing and looking at his mates. I kneed him in the balls and brought my fist up to hit him in the mouth as he doubled up.

He keeled over unconscious. His mates stood there looking worried.

"Any of you wee wankers fancy a taste?" I asked them. They shook their heads.

I went through the wee indie wanker's pockets and found his phone. I found the video on it and deleted it. Then I put it back in his pocket.

"See when he comes round," I said to his mates. "Tell him if he's made any copies he'd better delete them too, because if I find out there's any floating around I'll give him some more of the same."

Kinky Mr Spoon

Today Mr Spoon called round to say that him and some of the other residents had heard of my pissing through Hooka and Fat Rab's door. He said they were all thoroughly disgusted and started going over some other crap about decent behaviour and animals.

I'd half a litre of vodka in me at this point so I asked him if he'd like to see the inside of his living room from my living room.

He said he didn't know what I meant.

I asked him if anyone had ever put his head through a brick wall and would he like me to do it for him.

He said no.

Then I told him that I'd let him off this time but he'd best fuck off and mind his own business unless he'd like to wake up some night and find himself dangling over his wife in a suspension harness.

He said I was vile and bared his teeth at me.

I asked him if they were false teeth.

He said they were.

I told him mine were real and unlike his they could break open boiled sweets.

He burst into tears.

I opened the door for him and he hobbled out of it dejected.

That felt great. I stuck on this snoop and JT song on repeat:



I danced round the living room until I boked all over the sofa. I'll clean it up in a bit but I'll have a snooze first.

1 Day Off Crack

I couldn't sleep last night, I think I managed to drift off for twenty minutes here and there but nothing like proper sleep. Anyways I heard Fabian Wildman take Battle Cat for a walk and when he came back he called me down to the kitchen.

"Okay so It's been 24 hours since your last smoke of crack," he said. "So me and Battle Cat have got you a cake for your one day anniversary."

"Thanks," I said, I was a bit overwhelmed because I really wasn't expecting this.

"You see when you've done a week we'll have another, then every month, then so on. You know."

"Aw I already owe you a day, week and month one," I said.

"Never worry," he said. "Let's eat cake."

"Woof!" said Battle Cat.

We were tucking into some cream cake when there was a knock on the door.

Fabian went to answer it. I heard him talking to Fat Rab and Hooka. They sounded angry. They were shouting about the police.

Fabian invited them in.

"There's some people here to see you," he said.

"That wee indie wanker across the street videoed you on his mobile not only pouring milk through our door, but pissing in it too."

I shrugged.

"You'd need to do better than that," Fat Rab said. "Unless you want to wake up some night to some of our occult mates kicking your door in."

"Tuesday Kid here is celebrating giving up crack," Fabian Wildman said. "He did a lot of stuff on crack that he can't remember, so if he can't remember it, everyone else should forget it."

I looked at Hooka but there was nothing soft in the way she looked at me.

"We're going to the fucking police," Fat Rab said all smug. "Then we'll set the lads on you."

"Fine, we'll stab the pair of you," Fabian said.

Hooka gave a wee sound like she was scared, and Fat Rab tried to look like he wasn't scared but it was obvious he hadn't expected Fabian's answer.

"It's okay," Fabian said. "We won't kill you. But we'll stab some of your satanist mates too, especially the Death Owl. I know none of you dicks can fight for fuck."

Fat Rab and Hooka just stood there looking stunned.

"Right now if you've said your piece, fuck off," Fabian said motioning at the door.

"We're gonna party down, they can go fuck themselves," he said taking a bit mouthful of cake.

Giving up on the bad stuff

Okay so that's me done with the oul crack. I've given up and binned my crack pipe. Me and Fabian Wildman pissed on it, then we let Battle Cat piss on it, just so I really wouldn't want to use it again.

I've me bottle of cough syrup and I'm gonna take it steady. I wonder what life will be like now me and Fabian will both be off crack. He's out looking for a job, says he's sick of the dole. Says it's hard to get a job because everyone is looking for one and a lot of ones that already have one want two. That's a bit strange. No one should have to work two jobs to get by, or even have a nice life.

Everyone should get some time on the dole like me, just clears your head, and if you've a cool mate like Fabian and a puppy dog like Battle Cat it can be a lot of fun.

But I also remember how lonely I was last year and sadly it's like that for a lot of unemployed folk.

I'm gonna settle down now and get some sleep. I hope I don't piss the bed.

The Coolest Crackhead in Belfast

Hooka and Fat Rab went on holiday today. I don't know how since both of them are on the dole. Anyways, Hooka came round to ask if I'd look after Gobbolino. I said yes, like the sappy bastard I am.

Anyways I thought I'd let Gobbolino and Battle Cat play but I had to watch them because Gobbolino is still very tiny, and he could fit easily in Battle Cat's mouth, but Battle Cat was nice and they had lots of fun.

Fabian has started being twitchy and it's starting to do my nut. He gave me his knife to look after at the start of the week but that hasn't stopped him being a scary bastard. I watched him this morning have a conversation with himself in the mirror about how he was the coolest. He went on to list all the things that made him the coolest including rollerblading and shoplifting. I didn't know he rollerbladed. It kind of explains his love of spandex.

I got so stressed out about looking after him and the animals and the thought of Hooka and Fat Rab in some fancy hotel together (probably more like some shit B and B in Portrush) that I went and pissed through their letter box. That'll be nice for them to come back to.

I went in the house and told Fabian Wildman about it and he says milk would have been better because it smells worse than piss after it soaks in.

I went round later and poured a bottle of milk in. Fuck them.