Little Ron - 09 January/06 February 2004 / part 1
Oh Bugger!,
Not really mate, something's happened, I've cracked it, thank fuck for that, last years shite is last years shite.
Had a fuck of a X-mass and new year, blew me fucking brains out, had everything but sex - laughter, tears, violence,
bodies and anti-bodies, the ghost of beautiful, sleek, black Ronnie (used to call him Little Ron), lithe and lean,
found him in the market place when I had my stall, he was tiny, tired, scared and starving and had a seagulls white
feather stuck to one of his whiskers. I'm crying for him. Managed to get hold of him by putting a bowl of food out
and put him in cat basket under the stall. Talked gently and lovingly to him and soothed him, his eyes were so fucked
he wouldn't have lasted much longer, he'd been seen, living rough, for a few days, bless him. He relaxed and slept and
slept and slept, took him home and introduced him to the other two - Cap and cobweb, and they knew what state he was in
and he ate and slept and ate and slept. Then when he pulled round he turned out to be a lovely, amazing cat, real hard
little cunt. And he grew and I loved him 'cos he was mine. SWEET DREAMS RONNIE. I will never forget you sun-beam.
Had drugs, alcohol, friends, knobheads, drama, trauma, crisis, loans, fridges, armed guards, wigs, ponds, pigs, wands, crush, crash, wallop, etc etc, but it had to be a good one after last years dumb, dismal, heartbreaking disaster. Like I say, had everything but sex but have made lots of changes and there are women on the horizon I can feel it. My hair's long enough so I've started tieing it back again and wow, great googly moogly, the first night I went out, all these admiring looks and complements, but I'm So self-conscious, three days later it's got better and better; gorgeous girl (23?), tall and slim, long wavy fair hair looked twice, man, phew. We are so fragile, eh Gary? Stopped the medication and the vodka, it was the right time and it's working. One of the side-effects of the tablets is to suppress sexuality (doesn't work with a dirty bastard of an old goat like me obviously) so when you stop taking 'em it all comes flooding back. Some lucky lady is going to get the most exciting surprise of her life! Soon I hope. One of my really hard mates shocked me the other day, we were talking and discussing the incident with Moira in the pub 'cos he was there and he said, "You really fucking scared me when you kicked off, you fucking lunatic!" Respect.
Have you had a fucking Doris on your boat? Ha, ha, ha. Slang. I fucking love it. Isn't life good. You iron? Your'e hooves. Yoo poo? Win E. No, not doves no more. Drugs not dregs. Eh Up. Snatch. I want the sort of prim and proper, demur dirty bitch who will enjoy me enjoy watching the wet patch on her knickers spread as she pisses herself, then fuck each other stupid for 12 hours! Coming off it all I had no sleep pattern, was out of my skull in a strange place, it was all jam n' cream scones and butter mints etc, no it fkn wasn't, don't believe a word he fucking well says, he's a lying twat. OH NO I'M NOT. He tried to put words into my mouth but I bit the cunts fingers off. The strange place was limbo, you know, limbo-land, I've been there lots of times but it's still a shock to realize that you're back there, hurting, suffering it, and realizing that you need to do something drastic to get out of there, or do nothing, or keep on doing what you're doing. Caravan - If I Could Do It All Over Again, I'd Do It All Over You. "I've had enough / in the jar," - Ian Craven (W.K.D.N. 1985).
Had to chuck Virus No.1 out 'cos it was getting out of hand, oh well, thrown away another fucking fortune, it doesn't really matter. Walt Disney. I'm going to have to kill Peek - A - Boo - Man 'cos he's starting to really get on my tits and I can't get off my tits enough to ignore the little cunt. On me giraffe, me omni-giraffe. I'm a head-case. When Moira came back to have a verbal go at me in the pub that night I said, (I can't remember what she was saying) - "I couldn't give a fucking shite, I'm a fucking head-case, Mick knows I'm a fucking head-case, I don't fucking care," I was fucking shaking and trembling with the rage, anger and adrenalin that was coursing through my body. Y'see the problem is that when our ship malfunctioned and we got clagged-up on this fucking planet none of us thought that it would take this fucking long for us to be fucking rescued! I'm shunned 'cos no-one can cope with me, I'm too intense. 12:34pm, 14.1.04 - had about ½ gram of billy with cup of tea. 9:23 and am on my second vodka, gave in to it all 'cos I couldn't cope with my sense of loneliness and sexual frustration on my own anymore. Forgot to mention about billy, it's best stuff for years, factory stamped batch! Would like to say more but can't for obvious reasons, ssshh, say nowt. Does what it all does and fucking well spaces you out at the same time. Here for my birthday, good job too 'cos doesn't look like skunk or Charlie is gonna turn up on time, oh shite, fucking birthday-cake again. 15:15pm - had about 2 grams of billy (magic) and the vodka's 'n' orange sideways affect and no cake, then some cake, and then no cake again, but whole fantasy, cor, 'cos no cake there in the first place, but for fantasy cake, and the cake of the cake which wasn't there anyway in the first place. But as you so very rightly said, all those years ago, 19 now, I believe; "We don't want any more cake, we want the fucking knife..." but the fear of cake is still here and out there, lots of different cake, scary, only one knife. "Hands up who wants fucking cake?"
