And he thrusts forward on the couch, hudin his can up for clinking, so it’s toast time again. I stretch over tae oblige. I recall that Chisholm slag: a baboon-in-waiting. Our Francis is surely the man to help her fulfil her sordid destiny.
— You’re on a molten streak right now, Franco, Rents goes.
— Too right. Youse two probably ended up fuckin pished n shaggin the lovely ‘Pam’ again, he waves a hand in the air, — whin ah wis fuckin pulverisin that June’s pussy aw weekend. He slams his fist repeatedly intae his open hand. — Stick wi me, ah’ll git yis yir fuckin hole awright, ya useless cunts!
Ah force another slug ay what tastes like rancid, liquid aluminium. — I feel inspired by your success, Frank, I grin, rising and secreting the can and its vile contents onto the windae ledge behind the curtains. — I’ve a couple ay prospects so ah’m gaunny leave you boys and check them oot. Don’t wait up, Mark.
Poor Rent Boy. Not only have ah lumbered him with Begbie, he also has his video ruined at its climax. Fuck watching kung fu movies wi Franco, it’s as dangerous as it gets as he tries to demonstrate his versions ay the moves, usually on you. As Renton has moved into this flat, he can share the entertainment and hosting duties.
I’m off to see
mama mia
and, of course, our good neighbours Coke and Janey. I’ve been doing my fair share ay hingin oot down the Bannanay flats, and it ain’t just been for some of Mama’s home cooking. Yeah, life at the old place is better
sans
Cunty Fud, and my ma has heard the great news that she’s finally got that new Housing Association gaff in the South Side she’s been eftir for years. That will seeken his pus!
Enthusiastically trotting down the Walk to my old power base, I elect tae body-swerve Mama’s homestead for my neighbours’ identical abode. Janey, wearing a flattering blue top and tight black leggings, beckons me in and settles me doon in an armchair. Another Mogadon saga of
Coronation Street
, the British brain-dead’s perennial drug of choice, seeps intae the magnolia walls ay the Anderson household.
But Simone is finding it rather hard tae stay cool with Maria sitting opposite on the couch. My leg beats out an insistent rhythm as I sneak glances at her; blonde hair pinned back, but fringe cascading forward into those big blue eyes. With the heavy lids, long lashes and that hair flopping into them, they have a sleepy aspect that screams ‘bed’. That delectable honey-coloured flesh revealed as she’s wearing a backless one-piece brown dress, properly displaying that slender neck and strong limbs, covered in the faintest of downy blonde hair. The dress comes just above the knee, her long shapely legs tapering down to painted toenails and gold flip-flops. Then a sudden mock fight with wee Grant erupts; her magazine dropped and retrieved, the manoeuvre briefly exposing a sliver of white panties, so electric against those Majorca-tanned thighs that I almost cream on the spot.
Quit mitherin! Deirdre says on the box.
Those big full lips …
Thankfully,
hatefully
, Coke turns his wizened coupon tae me, chomping at the bit. — Ah’m thinking it might be time for a wee drink. Ye comin doon the boozer, Janey?
Am ah eckers like, rooster-puffs Ivy Tilsley, as Janey, curled up like a cat in the big chair, says, — Nah, I’m steyin in and catching up oan ma soaps. If ye go oot, bring us back a fish supper.
— Mince pie supper for me, wee Grant says in squeaky enthusiasm.
I look to Maria, buried in her magazine, ignoring everybody.
— You no wantin anything back fae the chippy later oan, hen? Janey asks her.
She looks up from the mag. That sweetly contemptuous pout: my God, I’m closer than I’ve ever been to love. — Nup.
Coke raises his eyebrows, and signals for me tae rise. And so we depart. — Teenagers, he muses as we turn intae the stair.
— Aye, it must be hard, bringing up kids, like. Wouldnae be me, ah can tell ye. It’s aw
— You’re on a molten streak right now, Franco, Rents goes.
— Too right. Youse two probably ended up fuckin pished n shaggin the lovely ‘Pam’ again, he waves a hand in the air, — whin ah wis fuckin pulverisin that June’s pussy aw weekend. He slams his fist repeatedly intae his open hand. — Stick wi me, ah’ll git yis yir fuckin hole awright, ya useless cunts!
Ah force another slug ay what tastes like rancid, liquid aluminium. — I feel inspired by your success, Frank, I grin, rising and secreting the can and its vile contents onto the windae ledge behind the curtains. — I’ve a couple ay prospects so ah’m gaunny leave you boys and check them oot. Don’t wait up, Mark.
Poor Rent Boy. Not only have ah lumbered him with Begbie, he also has his video ruined at its climax. Fuck watching kung fu movies wi Franco, it’s as dangerous as it gets as he tries to demonstrate his versions ay the moves, usually on you. As Renton has moved into this flat, he can share the entertainment and hosting duties.
I’m off to see
mama mia
and, of course, our good neighbours Coke and Janey. I’ve been doing my fair share ay hingin oot down the Bannanay flats, and it ain’t just been for some of Mama’s home cooking. Yeah, life at the old place is better
sans
Cunty Fud, and my ma has heard the great news that she’s finally got that new Housing Association gaff in the South Side she’s been eftir for years. That will seeken his pus!
Enthusiastically trotting down the Walk to my old power base, I elect tae body-swerve Mama’s homestead for my neighbours’ identical abode. Janey, wearing a flattering blue top and tight black leggings, beckons me in and settles me doon in an armchair. Another Mogadon saga of
Coronation Street
, the British brain-dead’s perennial drug of choice, seeps intae the magnolia walls ay the Anderson household.
But Simone is finding it rather hard tae stay cool with Maria sitting opposite on the couch. My leg beats out an insistent rhythm as I sneak glances at her; blonde hair pinned back, but fringe cascading forward into those big blue eyes. With the heavy lids, long lashes and that hair flopping into them, they have a sleepy aspect that screams ‘bed’. That delectable honey-coloured flesh revealed as she’s wearing a backless one-piece brown dress, properly displaying that slender neck and strong limbs, covered in the faintest of downy blonde hair. The dress comes just above the knee, her long shapely legs tapering down to painted toenails and gold flip-flops. Then a sudden mock fight with wee Grant erupts; her magazine dropped and retrieved, the manoeuvre briefly exposing a sliver of white panties, so electric against those Majorca-tanned thighs that I almost cream on the spot.
Quit mitherin! Deirdre says on the box.
Those big full lips …
Thankfully,
hatefully
, Coke turns his wizened coupon tae me, chomping at the bit. — Ah’m thinking it might be time for a wee drink. Ye comin doon the boozer, Janey?
Am ah eckers like, rooster-puffs Ivy Tilsley, as Janey, curled up like a cat in the big chair, says, — Nah, I’m steyin in and catching up oan ma soaps. If ye go oot, bring us back a fish supper.
— Mince pie supper for me, wee Grant says in squeaky enthusiasm.
I look to Maria, buried in her magazine, ignoring everybody.
— You no wantin anything back fae the chippy later oan, hen? Janey asks her.
She looks up from the mag. That sweetly contemptuous pout: my God, I’m closer than I’ve ever been to love. — Nup.
Coke raises his eyebrows, and signals for me tae rise. And so we depart. — Teenagers, he muses as we turn intae the stair.
— Aye, it must be hard, bringing up kids, like. Wouldnae be me, ah can tell ye. It’s aw
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