Tramps Beg For Change On The Streets! Leave Me Be!

It's funny that Hot Baby Roy seems so developed these days (even though disaster threatens to rear its head at any minute). He was always the one out of us that I thought was the one you could depend on to be doing worse than you. I think maybe Fabian Wildman thought that about me, but I've a shit job and a great girlfriend so I've gained a lot more than I started with at the beginning of this blog.

Even though he's meant to be getting off crack for good I thought Fabian Wildman was the one person I knew who had really let themselves go. That was until I came across Panther Man the other day. He was sitting down the back of Queen Street drinking scrounged up cider with Foosted Wotsit Head. I remember he used to wear black velvet and slink around the place giving out faux/obvious wisdom to all the banal fuckers who'd lap it up. It wasn't a bad racket, certainly better than scrounging up change.

They asked me if I'd some money for Buckfast because then they could make Solzenicyn.

I told them there was no cider in Solzenicyn and they gleefully waved a bottle of brown lemonade at me.

There was a time I'd have sat and joined them, another I'd have mugged them for their coppers and silvers, this time I shrugged and walked away down the street.

Am I turning mean? I guess Bowie knows.

Pain

At the back of the carpark on Tomb St where sk8rkids huff paintball pellets and drink Solschenizyn (brown lemonade, schnapps and a dash of Fanta), was Rock and Roll Stephen, the Unicorn Girl and Clarence Pishflap.

"This isn't your usual place," I said to them. "Your gang don't roam here, what's the story?"
Clarence Pishflap spat and said to the Unicorn Girl that my mate Fabian Wildman was the one who broke her friend Betty Blue's heart.
The Unicorn Girl looked at me and said that I should maybe leave because she won't speak to friends who hurt other friends.
I told her I hadn't seen Fabian Wildman in ages and that I was a free man and could go round Belfast wherever I wanted.
Clarence Pishflap said that him and the Unicorn Girl were off and they left, Rock and Roll Stephen looked sad so I offered him some pink Champaigne.

He blew air out his flapping lips and said that he didn't need to teeth to tell me that Clarence was putting moves on the Unicorn Girl and that I was out of the picture.

I told him I hadn't seen or even thought about the Unicorn Girl in months and that my neighbours wore leotards all day long, and sometimes so did I.

"I know," he said sadly, and I remembered how he lost his teeth.

We sat in silence and I fell asleep, when I woke up he wasn't there. It was only me.