Work is Making me a Mutherfucker

I've been all stressed out because of work. Sex with The Punchbowl Girl helps out but I'd like to get back to when I have time off wandering about Belfast having fun and doing the odd bit of shoplifting.

I was talking to Hot Firey Love Lady when her and Hot Baby Roy were sitting downstairs indulging in some pre-pseudo-incest romance food (a nice meal on the sofa watching Jo get evicted from Big Brother to the rest of you).

She was saying that she liked her work and she was being all positive about the mutherfuckers on Big Brother (I haven't really been watching it but I like the graffiti dude). I think the difference in our points of view comes from work. I like drawing a wage but the difference between me and her is that she manages a cafe, so she has a bit of authority but more than that when people come into her cafe they're there to get something they want and generally have a nice time relaxing. When people call the call centre they're calling to scream mutherfucker at me (which they often do).

It's getting so that I think people are at heart wankers, she sees people as nice because when they come into her work they're nice.

Wino Jo hits the road

wino Jo came into the livingroom and spoke to me this morning. He said that he was going to go and visit the Fruitarian. I told him I was sick but when I was better then yes. He said he was going to go today.

He's going to stay long term at the Fruitarian's it'll be nice him sitting eating rotten bananas and tofu. I know he can't stand it but he takes what he's given (he's polite like that) and he knows to go when the money runs low, good old Wino Jo, fucker.

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."