I walked home a different way from work yesterday to avoid Fabian Wildman, when I got in the house he had already been and gone. Hot Baby Roy was there and he was saying that him and Fabian had a nice chat about stuff and that he is okay about the past.
I told him that was maybe because he was in love and that everything is a bit nicer when you're in love. He shrugged and said that he had to go soon and have a hot date with Hot Firey Love Lady.
I asked him about how he could afford all this dating and stuff and he said that Hot Firey Love Lady doesn't mind paying for everything. He must have a big wang or she must have little self esteem for that to be working.
He said that he thinks we should hang out a bit with Fabian Wildman because it could be good to get the gang back together.
"Fuck sake, it's not like it's Robbie and Take That." I told him, and he got all excited about how Robbie and the boys were gonna make some great music and that him and Hot Firey Love Lady were going to have a great time at the gig.
He talked for ages about it, the only other thing he said about Fabian before he left was that he left a bottle of stuff he'd been drinking here and it smelt of piss. If he's pissing in bottles and leaving them out on the streets for winos he's a wanker.
Showing posts with label street drinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label street drinking. Show all posts
Friday, 16 July 2010
Monday, 21 June 2010
No New Buddies :(
The work do was a total wash out. That means it was the first and only piss-up after the first week of training before everyone starts thinking everyone else is a ballbag.
Kissy Boy didn't go to it so I was left making conversation with the rest of them who to be fair all seem terribly nice and straightforward people. I started feeling that maybe I was to them what Hoors Bastard and Captain Cool Bastard were to me.
Betty Blue was there and I wanted to get speaking to her but she was fairly quiet and left after one drink. I thought of going outside to say hello but I got the feeling she was trying to avoid making eye contact with me in the pub so I left her alone.
I left after the second drink and politely tip-toeing my way through intense but boring conversations about the World Cup and the last Big Brother. I told one guy that England didn't have a hope and he looked at me like I'd just offered him a tape of his ma spooning shite in her mouth like it was chocolate mousse and she was a Chambourcy hippo.
"Oh yeah? We'll fucking see about that," he said before fucking off to the toilet.
And that was the only swear word anyone said all night. And it sounded so unnatural coming from him, like he'd only ever seen the word written down.
I went to an offlicence and got a bottle of whiskey wine and went and sat down where the Scabby Nettle Gang used to sit. No one was there, they're either all dead or dried out and in old folks homes. There's just me, moping around like some old man whose buddies all died in the war.
Kissy Boy didn't go to it so I was left making conversation with the rest of them who to be fair all seem terribly nice and straightforward people. I started feeling that maybe I was to them what Hoors Bastard and Captain Cool Bastard were to me.
Betty Blue was there and I wanted to get speaking to her but she was fairly quiet and left after one drink. I thought of going outside to say hello but I got the feeling she was trying to avoid making eye contact with me in the pub so I left her alone.
I left after the second drink and politely tip-toeing my way through intense but boring conversations about the World Cup and the last Big Brother. I told one guy that England didn't have a hope and he looked at me like I'd just offered him a tape of his ma spooning shite in her mouth like it was chocolate mousse and she was a Chambourcy hippo.
"Oh yeah? We'll fucking see about that," he said before fucking off to the toilet.
And that was the only swear word anyone said all night. And it sounded so unnatural coming from him, like he'd only ever seen the word written down.
I went to an offlicence and got a bottle of whiskey wine and went and sat down where the Scabby Nettle Gang used to sit. No one was there, they're either all dead or dried out and in old folks homes. There's just me, moping around like some old man whose buddies all died in the war.
Saturday, 9 January 2010
Bum Fights
Somehow Wino Jo's old drinking buddy Foosted Wotsit head has found out that Wino Jo is staying with me. Seems he didn't hear that Wino Jo is off the drink and he arrived up at the door with a big three litre Scabby Nettle Gang welcome pack.
Wino Jo was happy to see him but Hot Baby Roy told him to get knotted. That Wino Jo had been dry for a while and was staying dry despite what degenerates like Foosted Wotsit Head tried to do about it.
Foosted Wotsit Head beat the clean shite out of him and showed him that alcos can fight as well as healthy boys anyday, or that was the way Wino Jo put it.
Foosted Wotsit Head didn't give him a severe enough beating though because it wasn't long before Hot Baby Roy was on his feet and in and out of the broom cupboard and beating the shite clean out of Foosted Wotsit head with a baseball bat.
Wino Jo said he just sat back and laughed and he never realised how funny street drunks were until he stopped being one.
I thought this was a shit thing to say about his old mucker Foosted Wotsit Head but since Foosted Wotsit Head fled the city last year when I thought he'd killed Wino Jo in an alcohol fueled rage I patted Hot Baby Roy on the back and told him there was only room for one ginger in this house.
Wino Jo was happy to see him but Hot Baby Roy told him to get knotted. That Wino Jo had been dry for a while and was staying dry despite what degenerates like Foosted Wotsit Head tried to do about it.
Foosted Wotsit Head beat the clean shite out of him and showed him that alcos can fight as well as healthy boys anyday, or that was the way Wino Jo put it.
Foosted Wotsit Head didn't give him a severe enough beating though because it wasn't long before Hot Baby Roy was on his feet and in and out of the broom cupboard and beating the shite clean out of Foosted Wotsit head with a baseball bat.
Wino Jo said he just sat back and laughed and he never realised how funny street drunks were until he stopped being one.
I thought this was a shit thing to say about his old mucker Foosted Wotsit Head but since Foosted Wotsit Head fled the city last year when I thought he'd killed Wino Jo in an alcohol fueled rage I patted Hot Baby Roy on the back and told him there was only room for one ginger in this house.
Sunday, 20 December 2009
Talking Street Drinking and Missing Cool Partys
Hot Baby Roy left for the party looking cool last night and I sat in with Wino Jo, who was in a wile state thinking he was back on the drink. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I'd beat him up in his sleep.
Hot Baby Roy was spurting all this shite about spandex and making fetish videos with the Leotard Girls once he had one or more of them for a girlfriend. It was not fucking fair. He's going to ruin our chances with them when he lets his drooling hard on do the talking, bastard.
I told him that I wasn't going to save him if some big musclebound lughead beats him up.
He went away saying I'd thank him for it when I saw it working.
Hot Baby Roy heard the loud music coming from next door a bit later and he asked what was happening.
I told him there was a party and we'd been invited if he wanted to go. He said that he'd probably make a dick out of me if he went there and got drunk.
I told him Hot Baby Roy was probably already doing that for me.
I took him for a walk into the city centre because I couldn't hack him sitting round the house in the state he was in. I thought it would make him calm down a bit.
This made him worse, he kept seeing all the tramps and saying "there's where I'll end up."
I the end I stopped outside a pub and told him that I'd go in with him and make sure he didn't drink. I wouldn't drink either.
He was scared to go in but I told him that I'd look after him.
He agreed that he'd go in for a coca-cola.
When we went in there was live music playing and he sat and talked to me about how the music was decent and I told him that he needed to learn to let other people do what they wanted and that it was okay if other people have different tastes.
He said that he had a right to say if things were bad. I told him he did but sometimes you just have to let things go and let other people do whatever is making them happy.
He said that was a fair point and said that he wouldn't stab Hot Baby Roy. We drank our mineral and went home.
He seemed calmer and he went for a walk earlier when Hot Baby Roy stuck on a mucky DVD.
Hot Baby Roy isn't talking about the party but he has a black eye and came home in tears last night. I'll get to the bottom soon enough.
Hot Baby Roy was spurting all this shite about spandex and making fetish videos with the Leotard Girls once he had one or more of them for a girlfriend. It was not fucking fair. He's going to ruin our chances with them when he lets his drooling hard on do the talking, bastard.
I told him that I wasn't going to save him if some big musclebound lughead beats him up.
He went away saying I'd thank him for it when I saw it working.
Hot Baby Roy heard the loud music coming from next door a bit later and he asked what was happening.
I told him there was a party and we'd been invited if he wanted to go. He said that he'd probably make a dick out of me if he went there and got drunk.
I told him Hot Baby Roy was probably already doing that for me.
I took him for a walk into the city centre because I couldn't hack him sitting round the house in the state he was in. I thought it would make him calm down a bit.
This made him worse, he kept seeing all the tramps and saying "there's where I'll end up."
I the end I stopped outside a pub and told him that I'd go in with him and make sure he didn't drink. I wouldn't drink either.
He was scared to go in but I told him that I'd look after him.
He agreed that he'd go in for a coca-cola.
When we went in there was live music playing and he sat and talked to me about how the music was decent and I told him that he needed to learn to let other people do what they wanted and that it was okay if other people have different tastes.
He said that he had a right to say if things were bad. I told him he did but sometimes you just have to let things go and let other people do whatever is making them happy.
He said that was a fair point and said that he wouldn't stab Hot Baby Roy. We drank our mineral and went home.
He seemed calmer and he went for a walk earlier when Hot Baby Roy stuck on a mucky DVD.
Hot Baby Roy isn't talking about the party but he has a black eye and came home in tears last night. I'll get to the bottom soon enough.
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