Threats from Occult Forces

Yesterday was when I had that conversation with Hot Baby Roy about us stopping crack. He was really disappointed and said that he'd been planning some good crack smoking times and he was gonna get me and him initialled pipes but I told him no way hose.

He brought out a few rocks of crack and said it'd be a shame to throw them away. I said okay then, for old times sake.

We sparked up the pipe and had a good old smoke of the crack. We were having a great time, and Hot Baby Roy said: "Wouldn't it be great if it was like this all the time?"

I thought so, but then I thought a bit harder and I saw us in about ten years time, still on the dole, wearing the clothes we were wearing then with not a tooth in our heads. I told him it would break my heart.

He said that I was killing his buzz so he was going to go and see if Hot Baby Roy on crack could have his way with The Raven Princess Spandex. I told him to remember that no-means-no because the last thing we wanted was the cops to show up when we were doing crack.

He rolled his eyes and fucked off.

Five minutes later the door went. I thought he'd forgotten his keys but when I answered it Balkazaler was standing there bearing his fangs.

"I wondered if I'd see you this week I said. You're not getting my fucking vote."

"Shut up you crackheaded fucker. What are you doing smoking that shit again?"

"I'm just having a bit for old times sake, anyway I'm bored, like it's any of your fucking business."

"Listen I'm a powerful daemon! I can see the future and you need a clear head."

"Why? Is this something to do with The Death Owl?"

"Never mind him, this is much bigger than him. You stop smoking that shit or I'll kick your balls up and out your mouth."

"I was quiting anyway after tonight. You're still not getting my vote you peeler tasched fucker."

"You're not registered to vote in East Antrim," he reminded me. Then he walked to the front door, unfurled his horned scaly wings and flew off into the night.

Captain Cool Bastard Doesn't Live up to his Name

Today it's nice and bright and I'm on late shift so I'm a wee bit happier about everything, I've sent off a load of job applications and though they're for shit jobs I'm sure the change of scenery will be nice, so yeah I'm being all upbeat and possitive and part of that is because I've a new person in my life to look down on:

Captain Cool Bastard.

I think Captain Cool Bastard thought up the Captain Cool part of his name himself. He's been telling stories since I got in at 11. They've all consisted of fights he's won and girls he's fucked. None of them are from Belfast even though he's lived here his whole life (as Book Boy managed to worm out of him). But by all accounts he's fucked more than Cassanova and there's sure to be loads of Captain Cool Bastard Bastards running around Dublin, Drogheda, Dundalk, and anywhere else the Dublin Airport Bus stops at. Captain Cool Bastard says he goes down there once a month at least looking for sex and he always gets it. I sounds seriously more like some sort of rapist confession than anything else but Captain Cool Bastard says it always happens in hot steamy nightclubs like in that Usher song - Love in this Club.

I asked him why he never pulls in Belfast and he says that he likes Exotic foreigners. By this he means Irish Girls.

Fat Mo and Hoors Bastard have already taken a shine to him and the three of them have agreed to go on a rape (sorry pulling) spree at the end of the month.