i need a hobby ...

... fishing or something. anything to relieve the boredom of life at my sisters. i mention this to her graham when he gets in from work and (as predictable as a straight fucking line) the ugly bastard says “wouldn’t you be better off getting a job?” i answered him with the look of utter contempt he deserved and went back to the watching 'big brother's little brother' on the telly.

i'll have to move out soon. don't get me wrong ... i'm grateful for them putting me up and that, it's just, it’s graham. I hate him. why? why? because he’s a cunt! I hated him the moment I laid eyes on him. the way he walks, or rather creeps, about the place like a fucking crab. The way he talks. The way he breathes. The way he keeps fucking raising his eyebrows like roger moore every time you say something he disagrees with which is pretty much everything

it's not just that though. i need a place of my own. i mean, i need me space and that. this gaffs just a little too cramped for my liking. somewhere to entertain the chaps and that. souness and carl came round last night with some cans and the old playstation. Spiderman 2 the game – have some of that. graham sticks his nose in and decides he's watching casualty which means we had to wait a fucking hour before we could plug in and get started. i reckon the cunt's just jealous because he's ain't got any mates of his own as far as I can tell. a bitter twisted billy-no-mates if ever there was one. i made sure he didn't get any of our beer though. hid them well out of that cunt's way until casualty was finished and the gormless bullock was in bed (and having horrific nightmares if there’s any fucking justice in the world)

I’ll have to give it a bit of thought – the hobby thing I mean – I’ll sleep on it.