Awright? That’s the Glesga greeting of choice around here. It’s about 0830 on a grey Sunday morning in Soapdodge City. I have been awakened by my roommate/buddy Larry.
When you start this program you are in a thing called the Welcome House. Not a separate building or anything like that but instead a grade. There are four grades of seniority: Welcome House, Part 1, Part 2 and Senior. I suppose it’s to make you feel like you are making some sort of progress through this madhouse.
So Welcome House inmates get a buddy and I got Larry, a North East fisherman. Snazzy clothes and new teeth have turned him into a bit of a shagger. The girls love him and he’s already been in the shit for predatory grooming of Welcome House females.
He’s got a busted shoulder the now, no idea why, walks around like holding his arm like Admiral Nelson, or Napoleon, or Caesar. Why did all those guys do that with their arm? Fuck it – I’m going to give that a try too.
I found Frankie Boyle’s autobiography and started reading it a few days ago. It’s like a subversive counter-culture. All day I get told to be nice and caring and polite and at night I have Frankie explaining the joys of being a right cunt. Currently Frankie is winning.
Larry’s alarm goes off at 5am with whatever pish CD he has in it, he grunts, slaps it off then it goes every hour after that. Fucking wakes me up.
Secretly I think he wants me to fuck off so he can have a wank in peace. So, today in Frankie mode, I started thumping the wardrobe to the beat, coughing, farting, going in and out of the room banging the door, all in all it really cheered me up.
Was jamming last night with NotPete Docherty. That’s a shit name. I’ll think of a better one later. He’s 26, a Libertines obsessive, sings great, massive confidence, does his perfect indie hair with straighteners. He just batters out barre chords up and down the fretboard at high speed while singing like a bird. Cunt. Always grabs my guitar when I leave the room because it’s a Taylor, leagues better than his pish Epiphone. So anyway, I’ve written some songs wiyth offbeat switches and unusual chord modifications. It’s fun watching him trying and trying to get it. [Author’s note: What a prick I was those days] He get’s the chord shapes eventually but can’t pick up the rhythms or intonation.
He’s an alright guy though really, got a lot further than me with music. Supported the View, had a good following in Dundee then NotPete he was a rockstar and hit the skag like his namesake. For the record I don’t give much of a fuck about the Libertines. You get to my age and you often feel like you’ve heard it all before. I remember a 40 something telling me that in some grim banking job hell when I was a 20 something and thought my band was the berries. But as I say NotPete is a good guy. Talked me down from some shitty thinking a few times.
The girls kicked off WWIII last night. I’ve tried to understand but it all seems so trivial I sort of lose interest before I can comprehend who said what to who when. Stick a bunch of women together and they always end up fighting sooner or later. [Author’s note: Sorry to all women everywhere for that slur]
Us men like to think we’re better than that, like it never gets that far, but in reality I think we hate each other just as much but keep a bit quieter because when it kicks off we really do kick the shit out of each other.
So, another day of shit is about to begin. If there’s any more banging dance music and stupid requests for “lets all dance” I will go postal.
Before I go I’ll have another moan. This happens to me all the time. I’m talking to some guy – usually the Fat Canadian and someone turns up. I’m in mid-sentence and he just turns away “What’s up Buddy?” then he’s off talking to them. FUCK YOU! I fucking hate that shite. And in that mood of enthusiastic hatred I should sign off for the day and start the dream again. May it be easy and not involve fucking cleaning anything.
Oh yeah, one more thing, I was scratching my healing wrist yesterday and a wee HIV+ girl coughed right on it. So if I die of AIDS you know why. Too de loo.