A Critique of Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging

Hot Baby Roy hasn't been over since we watched Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging he left the DVD for us in case we wanted to view it alone.

I told Fabian Wildman that I thought Hot Baby Roy was a sleaze and that I felt uncomfortable watching that pish movie the other night. Fabian Wildman said that he thought the movie was quite sweet and he'd enjoyed it. I'd just sat through it looking for things to sneer at and that I should have just relaxed and watched it.

I said it was so bad I fell asleep.

He said I should watch it again, like Hot Baby Roy suggested, because he thinks I have more in common with Hot Baby Roy than I probably realise. He said that both me and Hot Baby Roy have been single for a long time so Hot Baby Roy lives vacariously through romance movies and I just sneer at anything that suggests affection because I'm scared of being rejected.

I said this wasn't the case, that I had initiated two sexes this year so far, with two different girls, one of them an American and the other a rock and roll vomit heavy metaller, and neither one had shown even the slightest intention of knocking me back.

He said it hardly made me Joey from Friends but that he wasn't just talking about sex he was talking about connecting with someone. He thinks me and Hot Baby Roy should look for girlfriends instead of lusting after Hermione Granger/ Emma Watson.

I hope he doesn't have a point but I suspect he might have one. I'm going to go and walk Battle Cat and mull it over.

Party Time

So on Sunday we'd a big cool party to celebrate Battle Cat being back. We didn't want to make it a rock and roll heavy metal vomit one because Nanny Boo Boo was coming over and we were worried about how she'd find it. The Sweaty Metallers were on their best behaviour but a few sherry's in Nanny Boo Boo starting asking for the vodka and asked for us to play some loud music. She was a right riot. Listening to all the sweaty metaller's funny stories about rock and roll vomit parties and all the sweaty metal things they get up to. It was then I realised that both of them were competing for the affections of the Banshee who lapped it all up.

Fabian Wildman and Betty Blue were hanging out in the corner talking to Mr Spoon because Betty Blue wants to start making weird wine with beetroot and rhubarb and other weird stuff. Mr Spoon had kindly brought round two bottles (which, no harm to him, made everyone who tried them boke). The special place was reserved for Battle Cat who sat in the corner most of the night woofing away pleasantly and glad to be home.

Mr Spoon left around ten and Nanny Boo Boo a short while later. I told her I'd bring Battle Cat down to visit soon. She said she'd like that and that she'd enjoyed her time at the party and maybe she'd get an invite to the next heavy metal vomit one. I don't see why not.

After that we all played strip twister which got very messy and we were all drunk and didn't understand the rules.

I can't remember how it ended but I woke up bollock naked in the living room on my own with Battle Cat licking my face.

Rock and Roll is Here To Stay

The Sweaty Metallers called round today to ask if I wanted to go to a heavy metal vomit party and I made up some excuse not to go because I was too pissed off, all that screaming and acting cool for nothing. I'd just be nobody at one of those parties. I wouldn't be able to look any of the cool dudes in the eye and I wouldn't be getting any hot metal girls.

Fabian Wildman said I should go, just to say there's no hard feelings and I might meet some people who want to start up a band. I told him that I always felt like a fake in the band and I didn't know how to sing. He shrugged and says it'd beat staying home, so I went.

I walked into the party and asked if anyone wanted to start a band with me and no one said anything. I was relegated to talking to this guy who had nothing to say for himself other than "I have a prince albert" and "my wife didn't leave me, I left her." It was so depressing I went upstairs to see what I could steal.

I was going through a girls make up bag for money when she came upon me, she looked really shocked like she was going to scream the house down.

"Mind if I borrow your lipstick?" I asked.

This changed everything, five minutes later we were plastered in her lipstick and getting it on ontop of loads of coats.

I boked in her mouth and she boked in mine it was so beautiful. Then after it all she said:

"It's great the way you can just cop off with people at these parties and it doesn't mean anything."

Just as I'd my phone out to take her number. I quietly put it back in my pocket and cried silently as she left the room.

One day I'll find what I'm looking for, but last night I couldn't find anything, not even a tenner or a mobile in one person's coat. I must be losing my touch.

I HATE WESTLIFE

I'm feeling better and I've been up and at 'em since yesterday. I went round the sweaty metallers to tell them I was excited about our next jam and about the banshee singing with us. That's when they sat me down and between them (they're hard to tell apart, and they rarely are apart, that's why I always talk about the two of them together) that they also like the banshee and don't know where I fit into the band anymore. I nearly screamed at them, no one screams like I scream, I thought but then I remembered what the banshee sounded like through the walls.

They must have seen the look on my face because they said they hoped we could still be mates and they'd still take me to rock and roll vomit parties. I told them that would be nice but to be honest I don't believe it.

I went to their toilet and pished all over the seat. Then I left, still friends.

Foosted Wotsit Head has More Dreams

Sorry I haven't been blogging so much recently but my life is now a whirl of Heavy Metal Vomit Parties and Electric Rock and Roll Guitar. So much so that I've been neglecting nearly everything except partying down and licking the bowl. It's great. I went to a party in the Four Winds yesterday and there was mudwrestling ladies there. I have been having so much fun that I've forgotten to take Battle Cat for walkie but luckily racist Fabian is doing it. I've forgotten so much that I heard a rapping at my door the other night and answered it to find Foosted Wotsit Head standing outside crying.

He told me that he's having nightmares about a violent encounter with Wino Jo and he's scared he did something to him.

I told him if he has I'd personally see to it that he gets kicked down a flight of stairs. He started to get edgy and twitchy and told me that he could do violent things to me, he said he's the best streetfighter out of the scabby nettle gang. He has a twitchy wee rock and roll step that he uses to sort boyos like me out.

"Oh yeah?" I said. "Well I've got a Heavy Metal step."

Then I booted him through a double glazed window. Then I picked up a flying V guitar and played a smokin' hot electric solo.

Heavy Metal Vomit Party No.1

I've been worried about Fabian Wildman since he lost his job. He just sits around the house huffing lighter gas and screaming about the Poles. I decided to take him to a heavy metal vomit party up in Rosetta to cheer him up. Me, him and the Sweaty Metallers showed up fashionably late and started rocking fuck out of the place. Fabian Wildman seemed to cheer up and I left him to it and went and met Johnny Davro and Peace Man. They're apparently really cool dudes and I wanted them to like me because all the skanky metal pussy hangs around them. Yum yum.

Rather than walk up and be all "yo I'm Tuesday Kid," I decided to try a different tactic. They were sitting at a table not saying anything and I just wandered up and sat down beside them. I didn't speak and neither did they. We all just sat trying to out cool each other. After two hours I just got up and walked off. I think I made a good impression.

I walked into the livingroom and found Fabian Wildman sitting shaking and foaming at the mouth talking about how foreigners were coming into our country and taking all our jobs. I wasn't too pleased because fuck knows who was listening and that's the sort of talk that starts fights. I tried to lead him off topic but he kept coming back to it. Then he started cursing the labour government and saying that things were better under the tories.

I don't know where he gets this from because he didn't used to talk like this. I think he must have some new dildo mates filling his head with pish.

That got me thinking about Doctor Who. Both me and Fabian Wildman are big Doctor Who fans and if you watch it you know that the doctor sometimes regenerates and when he does not only does he look different but his personality changes too. I think Fabian has had a recent regeneration and it's changed him from cool but intense crack head into failed yuppie wannabee with overtones of racism. I hope he's really done a Colin Baker (6th Doctor) which is seem like a bit of a nasty dude but really the good guy is underneath waiting to slowly emerge.