Part One: Tripper Fuckers Unite

Fuckfuckfuck

I suppose it gets to a point in your life when you think what's the fucking point? Right? It's one of those times for me and for a real proper old skool raver like Bungle Bob. He's a great mate but he's fucking mental as fuck. I always think he lost it time ago. I did, I can’t remember shit. I think I’m getting all spazzy with some kind of mad cow vibe, fucking proper freaky, I can’t think straight.

 

And, this no fucking joke, I ain’t getting peak, looking for shit, I’m telling you I keep seeing that tripped out fucker, Bungle Bob everywhere. You know, I thought he went up north time ago. I ain't no Gothy-emo-slice-n-dice-me-veins-with-a-rusty-blade-type-of- motherfucker. I'm just a fucked up drop out.

 

To be honest, sometimes I get sick of picking up, standing, waiting, knocking out bits and pieces on the side. I've got a connoisseur habit. I do everything I can get. Still get sick of shitty deals, though. Bits and fucking pieces! I dig it, I want to keep on going, I love getting wasted. Shame I can't stick it on me CV! It's all cool when you all young, like a proper kid, but I feel like a pensioner and I just turned thirty-five.

 

Fuck man. It's fucking crazy. I think if life's going to be nasty short and shit, when there's nothing but fucked up shit everywhere in the world, then I'll take fucked up nothingness any day of the week. Get old and forget shit. I don’t want to be around when I’m fucking ninety, do I? I’ll be shocked if it happens, but I don’t want some poor fucker having to wipe me arse and feed me baby food.

 

Fuck that, I want to be six foot under when it gets to that. I will just vanish into the cosmic vibes forever. We all just want to escape, but it's more for me. I'm like a religious raver now. Church of Rave, fucked up therapy for the fucked up crew. Fuck up mass bizzle! The world fucks us up, the ritual of the rave saves us. Like what being on the dole too long does to you, makes you nuts, you trance out those poverty vibes! Brock out and Skank out and keep on taking whatever you’re fucking taking people!

 

I’m honest about it, I get sick of the family vibe. I go back to the house. Stinks like old cabbage, damp, piss or some shit. I open a cupboard, kicking all the toys out of the way. I got a feeling Kieran has taken the PS5 with him. Fucking cheeky kid. It ain’t mine, though I’m living with Melissa, sort of, or something like living together.

 

It’s a weird relationship.

 

We met at Raindance, I was kind of rebounding from Jodie. I still wonder what Jodie’s up to, I don’t know, I could stalk her on Facebook but I can’t be arsed. Just hope she’s having a wicked one, though she’s pretty fucked up since her mental ex got out. I got an idea what Melissa is up to, though. She’s just like me, she’s poncing, scoring or selling some shit.

 

She’s out probably fucking her fat ex, fuck it, don’t bother me, just as long she’s taking cash out of her fucking account. I’m all modern, but I ain’t sharing any fucking cash, not when it fucks with the stash. Poncing got to be me middle name, so I’m hoping Melissa’s mum has the kids. I don’t bother phoning for some reason. I should care, I know that, but I just can’t be fucked. I got no credit anyway.

 

I don’t think any of them are my kids, and Melissa’s pretty vague with details, fucking standard ain’t it? She’s only with me as we’re just the last of some people to keep hanging together. I think she wanted me to teach her to DJ at one point, scratch and rewind, the whole scribz. But she kind of forgotten about it too. Not that I’m shit hot, I struggle to mix, but she just wanted to cut a break though I had to tell her I ain’t even that kind of DJ.

 

Scratching all that crazy shit, that’s a fucking real skill, fucking tough one all that. Those old skoolers fucking killed that rat-head, the fucker with the mouse-head. He’s a fucking Canadian chancer - me neighbour's mutt, Candy, can select a tune better than him! He admits to touring only with a fucking USB, syncing away, flying around the world to press play all the time! But, to be fair, he signs up some banging producers for his label. He has taste, for sure, even if he has a ear for better people than him! Maybe he should shut it for a bit though! Fuck to be fair it’s tough to have those skills, you can’t get them overnight, that’s three-deck Carl Cox master stuff! Some proper technical shit, learning the vinyl and all the mod cons together, gotta be mad. Mixing as tight as Uncle Dugs, trust me all them old skool dons, they can proper mix and blend!

 

I’ll always be a second-hand CDJ man, just so much fucking cheaper and a bit easier. I think the mixing can always be tighter but I’m too fucked to care these days about that. I just play – version it then attempt to mix in another track for ages at the end - and hope other people like the music. That’s what they fucking did in the old days. Fuck all that bullshit now, all about hits, likes and views and online P.R. bullshit.

 

Yeah, this place, Melissa hates housework too. We get blazed all day, then Melissa tells her old dear that she’s got work. Melissa got fired ages ago, poor fucking bitch. She said to me that she had got some other job - all casual like, sure it another zero shit-payer - but she kept turning up whenever she felt like it. Fucking piss-heads always fuck up easy plans. There’s only so many times you can blow the boss, and in this case, he really owned her ass.

 

But she left. I won’t be surprised if she’s on the game. I mean, I wouldn’t mind, she just needs to get her pussy checked out. I get a bit freaked out when that weird shit happens. I don’t want crabs again, I am a walking crab, turn into a crab person out of South Park. Takes me back to me Ibiza days. Fucking having it proper large with a scummy cock! Riding without the wellies on. Not much has changed, I suppose.

 

I'm at some after party thing, it’s thinning out, looking dead. I’m getting all horny, though. I've been fucking some MILF bitch called Kaylee, or something. She's got to be older than forty. I didn't hear her too well as she's well fucked. I'm fucked too, so fuck it. A fuck's a fuck, right? Nothing like getting me willy wet, some good old balls deep and backdoor man action. I think me dick's sore, we been at it for a bit. I lose track of time, can't be five minutes but definitely feels like it’s over ten minutes. It's all catching up with me – chemsex a mad vibe, me cock's numb - no quick cumshots for me!

 

Should've rested after seeing: House Crew, Dave Angel, Todd Terry, Krust, Roni Size, Hype, Phantasy, Coxy, Slipmatt, Billy 'Daniel' Bunter, Uncle Dugs, Jumping Jack Frost, Junglis Monk, Warlock, Jerome Hill, Micky Finn, Darren Jay, Equinox, Threshold, Warped Core, Loxy, Shy FX, Congo Natty, Kenny Ken, Funky Flirt,Redant, Nicky Blackmarket, Doc Scott, 4Hero, Foulplay, Sparxx,Rob Tissera, DJ Rap(Elevation Set, fuck yeah!), Dr S Gachet, Remarc, Ellis Dee, Devious D, Mampi Swift, Skie, Shut Up And Dance, Rusher and Fox, Vibes and Livelee, Sy, Food Junky, Connie Con and Virus, Swifty Habla, SL& DJ Ron, Ben Pest, Torchman, Hughesee& Louise Plus One, Mark Archer, Posthuman, Bladerunner, Ed Rush and Optical, Nookie, Ray Keith, Storm, Fabio &Grooverider, Trace, LionDub, Marcus Visionary, Goldie, Andy C, Randall, Brockie, Bryan Gee, Danny Bukem, Luke Vibert, DMX Krew, A Guy Called Gerald, Colin Dale, Dave Skywalker, D.A.V.E The Drummer,Liberator Brothers, Sterling Moss, Mark EG. Loads of those dons were there, loads of MCs, GQ, Moose, Ragga Twins, Dave Boomah, Rebel MC aka Congo Natty, Top Cat, Tenor Fly(RIP), Fearless, Navigator, Det, Rudeboy Keith, Shockin B, Blacka, Cowboy Rass Ranger, $pyda, IC3, Skibadee and Shabba D, all the timeless legends. It kinda blurred real mad, like time trip flashbacks – trust, time proper flies when real mash up! Those who know will know it got proper ruffneck! Nothing like the mentalist warehouse selection. It fucking went off, and we went in hard. I’m still buzzing from it. I don’t even know what day it is. The pills were from another dimension, not even a bottle of Happy Jack can tame the buzz of a mean mad Punisher double drop, easily 250mg to 300mg plus of banging MDMA, real variation, every dinger is different, after all, just like people!

 

I can feel my dick burning - her cunt's not too tight so it's getting well gooey, a fine pussytastic sloppy mess. Got pussy goop-burn real bad. It’s a fucking bucket, fucking wicked! Yeah, got to think of something to keep plugging it. She's coked off her tits, she’s like it all the fucking time, just like any fucker who has to watch the fucking X-Factor Live on repeat. Kaylee’s a random, botched highlights and she’s probably got herpes, which is why I’m fucking her – trust, I'll fuck anything. She gotta be proper fucking desperate!

 

I never told her that her face is fucked, like nasal damage kinda fucked, but she’s always fucked so she won’t give a shit anyway. Ain’t like I’m a fucking Cola hunk, so who the fuck am I to tell her she’s a minger? I’m fucking one too, pleased she’s fucking me and not some other scuzzball she could’ve fucked off her tits. Coke n Fizzy, she’s fucking got to have her posh champoo as well as a few fat gees.

 

She gets some wicked bugle though, it's the only reason I keep seeing her. Melissa always wondered where I got the decent MDMA from and I always wondered where she got the wicked coke. Just as well Melissa knows Kaylee, fucking sly. I only found out by accident that they knew each other and Melissa gets this snort off Kaylee, they been chipping in for gees for time. But didn’t think we’d end up fucking. Still ain’t said about the Mandy and it's real wicked, sometimes it can get really trippy. Maybe a bit of drone or 2CB in the mix, not sure if had any 4CMC yet. Probably have. I know Melissa stocks up on test kits when we ain't too fucked to find em. I don't care anymore, I'll do anything. Lucky for me she don't give a fuck, too!

 

Yeah, true ugly fuckers end up fucking other ugly fuckers. Who else we going to fuck? I got manky ginger dreads; all me mates tell me I look like Gollum with ginger dreadlocks. I ain’t washed me hair for years anyway. I don’t know why I keep the dreads still, I just got use to them and there are well easy to maintain, like no hassle at all. Fucking weird mates, I know, make you feel fucking on top of the fucking world!

 

Shit, I can feel she's going to pass out soon. Give me some time to think. I end up thinking total shit, just zoning out. I think I want to be a DJ, but I love raving way too much. I don't think I can be fucked to master it all. I keep telling Clive he ain’t got a clue. He calls Cubase, Q-base as in Qbert or some shit. Qbert’s a fucking legend, nuff respec’ to a pioneer, going to have to catch him in Camden. Yeah, makes out like it some new drug or some foreign DJ! Fucking cracks me right up. He ain’t got a clue what he’s on about. I told him SL2 wasn’t a record label, but he thought it was. Clive texts in Bunter’s show on Kool and Bunter laughed at him on air, telling him SL2 wasn’t a fucking label! Muppet Clive, you fucking total muppet! Clive tries way too hard, he’s a dumb fucker too but he’s all cool.

 

Clive looking proper devastated, called out by Bunter live on Kool as a total clueless wonder. It just banter, though Clive feels he’s lost some power, some weird kind of raver creditability. Clive’s such a fucking poser and I think he’s a bit of a wanker most of the time. He’s a chancer, sure, always looking for some weird business angle, and just wants to blag some tunes he can pass off as his own, or work with to build his own shit. I got to watch Clive. You know it's kind of like music for non-musicians but it's getting real quality now and I think if I was born in another time, I'd be all cool, but as it goes I got a pub gig I do now and then and leave it at that. I know I never going to be big, weird thing is, nor did half those dons mashing it up now think they would be, but the world is proper fucking weird innit. Plus all those dudes got some serious skills, they ain’t chancing it when they hit the one’s and two’s.

 

I can’t even remember how I know Clive. He’s a good fucking bloke really, another harmless loser wannabe. At least I can find him about. Sometimes, when I see Bungle now and then I usually see Clive. We go to the same places, though I think Clive turns up hoping to see me. Clive’s a fucking kid, he looks like a sixth former, he must be a bit younger than me but I bet he’ll get asked for his ID till he’s forty. Might have some stubble by then, a pube or two. Fucking weirdest joke; I hate it too. Though Clive looks a teeny bit Arabic, to be real honest with you; I don’t want to just say foreign - like some fucking Hollywood terrorist. We can all look a bit continental some days, I guess we all outta Africa. I don’t fucking care anyway, I ain’t no racist fucker, fuck those vibes. One fucking Love, even if I’m a bit slow and a bit ignorant, I’m fucking harmless. I mean fuck all by me insults!

 

We chat for a bit, exchange stories about randoms we pretend to remember. Clive tells me about Goofer sticking a chip up his cock for a fake nifty. I don’t remember, I don’t think I was there. I have no idea what happened to Goofer Gaz, Easy Ali, Crazy Dwayne, Mental Mo, who the fuck was the other guy? Deez? Remember him? Nope, I just about remember me name. They’re all dead, inside or in rehab. Stuck with fuckers like Musky these days! And I can’t believe Clive still calls me DJ Hog!

 

I ain’t been called DJ Hog for time. The other dudes are well tough to find. Crazy Dwayne going on about some bullshit bat virus, cracks me up. He so para, it all the synthetics what do it. Gonna start to call him Batshit Bubba – Garbage Pail Kids styley!

 

Though I sometimes bump into a dude I know called Custard Cream, but then again, he’s in our kind of vibe. He likes all things banging then he vanishes for ages, lost in a haze of wasted bliss - probably chilling with the Acid House dudes, then pops up all over again for a bit before going away again. Me? I’m at most things even for a bit.

 

How do I blag it? I don’t know. I can’t always be sure, but if you turn up at 3 a.m at most places, whatever the club they will let you in cut price. Unless it’s a proper special sold out Andy C thing, some kind of mental wig out that will guarantee to sell out. Fatboy Slim and Coxy smashing it, Chemical Brothers sell out real quick, Faithless, Mr C, A Guy Called Gerald, Aphex Twin, Orbital, the Orb, 808 State, maybe Leftfield if they can be fucked to gig. Not like they need to, probably minted for life. Looking forward to 8:58, though, and will definitely be catching Rebuild, too.

 

Those dudes are proper rare – A Guy Called Gerald and Graham Massey – and they be always wicked to catch on the one off, though you wish you could see them a lot more. The list proper goes on and on really, like a list of legends. I’ll even dig out the Jellybean Benitez mixes. But for all those tricky nights, it’s cheapo time. Bouncers only get funny if it’s a proper sell out. Then you might get stiffed more than a score, but always less than a nifty.

 

As I’m chatting to Clive I zone right out. I got one of those Liferide things in me mind. It’s fucking weird, I thought it was kind of like a flashback but it’s weirder than that. Weirder than a talking dog shit. For real, I’ve spoken to a lot of shits - trust me!

 

Fucked Up Low Down

Here's me plan, had to get it down or I'll forget it all in the morning. So much for being sunnyside up!

 

Yeah, I know I'm a total cunt, but I'm well loved-up really, I'm a peace and love vibes man. I wanna do something to change the world real quick, so it's a real quality place for everyone and make it all proper loved up. I know I'm pretty thick and can't think how to do it, apart from just hoping and thinking why can't the fucking world just proper chill the fuck out and get some real one love vibes going.

 

All these paranoid dictators and things, people starving and shit, just living real shit ain't on. Not these days. I'm sick of hearing it too. How can you escape from a real shit world and you know a vote in this country will do fuck all to change it? It just seems to be human nature or the way of the world and every fucker has resigned themselves to it. Fucking pisses me off. But I can't stand to see another charity advert, starting to give me a complex, makes me feel real shitty.

 

I never got to be really political, I ain't got too much to say about it. I don't know much with it, fucking confusing but what I do have to say is just it's all fucked. Needs to break it down and go back to One Love. I don't stand for shit, I never voted, doesn't seem to make any difference, just a bit of the gloss off the shit system.

 

Yeah, what can you stand for? You end up doing a Scarface and just say you got your word and your balls, and that's it. Just weird standing up for fuck all, it stands for more than our shit society, I got to say with all the shit going on around the world, capitalism or whatever ism, it just proper sucks but I'm admitting to you I'm getting all this shit down because I need to find a legal way of making some cash and I CAN'T GET A DECENT PAYING JOB FOR SHIT!

 

Need to luck out like some fucking chancers, you see them all the time on TV. Fucking internet zillionaires getting sucked off every day by supermodels, or escorts, whatever floats their gender fluid boat. Fuck, I can imagine it all day every day; I’m in me own episode of Planet Starchasers Excellent.

 

Fuck it all for shit, though, high pressure capitalist bullshit. I dig a tune in drop out kinda trip. I definitely enjoyed learning to lose. Watch shit all day, toke roaches, chuff shitloadsa cheap shit, pop a ton of cheap pills. Like some poor fuckhead loser in Mr Happyland. I can hack it in there. Shut eye shine eye, fuck off world!

Time Tripping kicks in, love that tune. Killer, hope it gets mixed with System Check or Snapshot. Sometimes you can have a laugh. I am in total blag mode these days. Time Tripping for sure, reminds me of Hocus Pocus! Not that being on the blag worked out for me long term - but for some fuckers it has. And they’re the first to admit they've lucked out. Fucking capitalism fucks with you a lot, don’t it? Fuck man, I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever get another proper dull shit job, I don’t think it wants people like me to join in.

 

I just get pissed having to wait to pick up, I want it all online these days, want it all instant transmission. I ain’t getting much, I know I’m brassic but when I want whatever I want to get fucked off, I want it right now. You know the score?

 

That’s why the cartel’s fear if it all goes legal it changes the game. I don’t know. I should just focus on getting a proper schmuck job, some no brainer thing. Tough these days to find a doss job, easy to find plenty of real shit jobs though. Some of them are even a form of unemployment. When I go to a interview, if I ever make it, they know that I know the score on the shit job racket.

 

That's if I can get another shitty one. I don’t think I can hack it, I’ll need lots of time off!

 

Makes me zone out how shit society really is: trust, there be real shit jobs fucking

everywhere, they just put you in therapy, hospital, or the grave.

 

Sometimes prison. Only if it'sworth ripping off.

 

It’s not like we’re smart enough to finger some yuppie investment scam, I keep thinking

of Jimmy Carr fucking all these bankers, it’s getting me freaked. I think he’s funny,

Frankie Boyle’s funnier, but it’s scaring me now.

 

Anyways, it's only the ethnic people who get caught in the UK, ain't it? I think of a doss job, like some pissy cleaning job.

You can never find the doss number these days, I tell you. Sound of Music in me mind.

 

Everyone loves a bit of Nookie innit!

 

I ain't the kind of guy with the luck and connections to get one. You want a family business, right? I don't know any posh cunts called Tarquin, Gideon or Humphrey!

 

You work hard and you get paid shit, like proper shit pay, can even live off it what you do at weekend? Pay off your sky high private rent. It really don'twork on shit pay. They always bang on about private jobs but it'sthese shitty private McJobs that got worse, rich political fuckers creaming off them.

 

Zero hours fuck ups vs Mega-profit motherfuckers! Just a mill or two in bonuses this

year for those fuckers, real up against it!!

 

Custard told me one time he had three jobs with three different places, and they just

wouldn't book him for work.

 

Funny, as he had to sign on and got sanctioned for an appointment that never existed.

 

Fucking scam, I tell you.

 

Captain Rock drops, saves the mix. Yes, yes, yes! Vibes! Fucked up Vibes!

 

He said he would have been fucked if he didn’t try claiming every benefit going too, as his pay was so piss poor anyway.

 

Just for the thrill of not paying tax and getting fucked on the cost of living! Nice one, Blighty!

 

Well, fuck that fuckers!

 

In Complete Darkness has to be me tune, thank fuck for Fat Controller! Do like that Total Ecstasy remix by SS too. Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

 

As long as I can keep getting smashed, then fuck it. Like I give a shit what they says legal or not.

 

Looking forward to the Belgian mashups too, new beat bust out.

 

Would be easier if all this illegal shit got sold in shops!

 

I can’t always be fucked to go out to score as I get older!

 

Just get a fucking delivery!

 

Sorry getting all zoned and thinkey there!

 

I did have a plan but I fucking lost it time ago! I’m fucked, fuuuucccccccckkkkk!

 

Fuck Shit Job Jammin’

You always get bothered by some uptight cunt who's always going on about policy and procedures. But they can break every rule, but you're in the shit when you copy them. The future for me seems to look like a giant piece of shit. Still love the world though. Without money shit, it would be a wicked place. I mean the sweetest and weirdest place ever. Be fucking some weird heaven right? But reality stopped liking me ages ago, fuck knows why! I didn't mind reality, it used to be a friend of mine!

 

I go with five year cycles of no employment of any kind, just like the Bowie tune, then I'll get a shit pay per hour uncapped sales piece of shit, get some old suit then fucking have a go. I dream of having my old doss job back, but now I'm just trying to get gigs on the side. I'm trying to line up the DJ thing. My doss job was a right piece of piss. It got cut for shit, I always thought it would happen. I guess I never recovered from it.

 

Same old shit for me. I do one of these shit commission numbers and I'm finished by the end of the week, they always want to get rid of me. It's a bullshit thing, not real work, I never went off benefits and the interviewers never like me. Shit, what's the point in even working for benefits when all you’re going to get smells like some proper shit job. Some losers got to do them, right? And I mean real shit, you'll feel worse off.

 

I got to be monged all the time for them shit numbers, but I never get employed, it's just they don't say why but they can probably tell I'm shitfaced just to face the bullshit of the whole interview piece of shit. Fuck it, I'm getting used to signing on and claiming for random shit, not like you can really do loads but you do learn how to ponce more off the state.

 

There's always a rainbow and vibes by the tonne with DJ Hog! All post-ADF now in the 21st century, just having the skills to avoid your bills. I have some great laughs with Custard Cream, Bungle Bob, Crisp Roll and some of the other randoms. Though Bungle Bob's well tough to find, he's a proper mover and shaker I reckon, he seems to have cash but he really don't care.

 

The raving will always be me mistress, Bungle tells me.

 

I don't really know know Clive, he's a fucking fried fucker too. We're a bit odd, we don't remember how we know each other and we don't see each other for a few of weeks, then we see each other everywhere. I reckon Clive's a real swinger too. I don't want him near me arse, he looks a bit poofy. But I don't really know the dudes who just sit in the corner looking weird and angry. Konny Ken, pervy Trollo, the soon-to-be ex-cop we call Porkball Paul or that bloke called Musky from Croydon. I call him Flipper Man, never seen some coked up fucker flipping out so quick. Got a temper shorter than Tyson’s. His dick has got to be fat and tiny. He just suddenly loses it, like a pyschofuck, like, over fuck all, the smallest things. Proper flipped when Ruff in da jungle got dropped, he lost it!

 

Reckon it's getting heavy, Musky’s way too coked up to be on the ball. Not crunchy! You'd think it’d make him sharper, but he’s a total cunt already, the coke didn’t make him a total cunt. Musky had to be born like it!

 

Yeah, I don't really know the girls too well either. Jodie and Emily bring other random lady friends to different raves, but I don't get them. These ladies give us the lip, the weird looks as if we’ve done something real bad to them or we’re about to. I think they're cock-teasing us, but they reckon I'm sexist so would say it. And they only know us because we score a shitload, as always.

 

Crisp seemed to be into both of the girls for a while. Jodie and Emily both at the same time – I dig that thought. Yeah, raves are like a swing thing for Crisp. He probably gets laid more than an ugly fucker like me. I’m lucky to get blagged and a hand or blow job after. All fucked up fumbles. At least it something physical!

 

I'm sure Crisp's into porno too, but he don't know me too well so he doesn't say. He just gives away a few clues about his past, and he went to a posh school like Clive. Always those upper class rebel types throw the curveball and become proper mentalists later in life. Head in the Clouds comes in, fucking love it!

 

Shame Crisp ain't in parliament with his posh bum chums, he would've proper sorted this country out, not those publicity hungry cunts what really cream it now. Waiting to see if Crisp will dig a sex party thing. I don't always give a shit but if it happens it happens, I just want to get proper fucked!

 

Tootjuice!

Had a great week, though. Getting sucked off by a sixth former called Gemma in Hyde Park for sorting a toke of some fairly average skunk for free. Well, it average to me. Some kids get some raw deals. Crazy week, though, clubbing during the week, just been doing bashed blow and popping dodgy pills with anyone cool enough to chip in, going out clubbing some more and taking a shitload of MDMA with anyone just up for having a real cool time. Sometimes it can be tough to get some decent MD, but once you got it, you know it’s wicked.

 

I go on me own a lot too these days. Gemma can’t always be blagged into raves. She don’t like full sex either. I’ve even tried to fuck her butt, but she freaked. Think she’s still a virgin. Her parents are Baptists or some shit. Best to chill it and not to push, I’ll eventually dump her. She don’t look sixteen or seventeen to be fair, she’s like the oldest in her year. Fuck organising shit, waiting for randoms to ring you back and show up.

 

As the truly underrated Sagat says I'm tired of shit, fuk dat! Never end up doing anything waiting for wasters! If I see someone I might know, or a random, I''ll chat to anyone, I'm easy, but I'm there to get proper fucked and skank the night away! I think I hear Special Dedication coming in, sounds like it from a car with a wicked system. Reminds me of Jungle Fever! Bass bins will be blown!

 

Trust me, I've had to hide from the ex for a bit and I hook up with some new bird, yeah she lives in Kentish Town. Fucking love Kentish Town. Clive calls it Cuntish Town because of all the random cunts who live there. Me ex was living near Romford at first then moved to be near her fucking bitchy dyke of a mate in Hatfield. Fucking geeky toytowns, fuck they're magnets for poshos and students!

 

Fucking ladies, man, I don't get them but I love them as much as I love MDMA and SK. Which is a fucking shitload! I love Jayline and Papa Gee's Bun It tune too. Big rare groove tip! I let Gemma listen to it, feel like I'm mixing off an iphone, I stick it on speaker. It ain't bad in the park. I flip SL2 into Top Buzz, I don’t tell her I got it off a Slipmatt set.

 

Gemma tells me she's been listening to pop shit, Miley fucking Cyrus, Lady Gaga, One Direction, all that kind of shit. I drop Coco Bryce's new tune then Ragga Twin's, Killa Sound, which then drop Bunter, Dugs and $pyda’s Tralalala tune, fucking banging. Going to have ask if she heard Shine Eye, it gonna be a anthology session but I’m going to get that look you get when someone susses you’re some fucker stuck in the past. Those classics don’t date, they’re fucking timeless! Fucking know it maaaaaaan!

 

I’m sneakily thinking of transferring a few old skool sets to her battered ipod, but she looks fucked, like she's never heard that music before. I think, How? I think about fucking the shit out of her and I don’t hear what she says, then I come around and go on about more tunes. I got LionDub’s new album, thinking of lending it to her, but it’s signed. Probably won’t see it again!

 

Anyway, these bangers I got here are proper British music! It’s what we do best, proper mental basslines, the best beats and wicked samples. Even though I’m a shit DJ and a proper lazy producer, I can fucking admit it, most fuckers in the game can’t, but it inspired me to at least have a go if they’re getting away it.

 

Yes, you Rathead fuck, you know right? A Guy Called Gerald caught him out, don’t fuck with a proper legend who’s right up there with Carl Cox, Frankie Knuckles (RIP), Kevin Saunderson, Derrick May, Derrick Carter, Carl Craig, Robert Hood, for sure gots to big up Frank DeWulf. Always rate Joey Beltram, he should be recognized as a proper legend, a real pioneer, a true on for sure. All with an old FX-10. And all the young Yanks and Eurobeatboppers copy us now, instead of the other way round. It's what we fucking do best.

 

Have they worked with Coldplay? Gemma asks me, like all serious. I laugh.

 

Fuck Coldplay, babe. She smiles, she probably digs the geekboy who fronts Coldplay. She’ll fuck Coldplay for sure. They all love geeky girly men, lotsa wristbands, all tablecloth shirts, jeggings and pumps - just like that geeky ladyboy Clive.

 

Fucking cracks me up, should try to work, these employers, these fucking dull tight ass suits think I got blind faith in the system, and I can play that bullshit game. It's all bullshit. They all get hypocritical and can't wait to get some blow after another meeting. And all these tofu munching clean living geeks doing spacey queer vampire werewolf magical spanky wanky space fantasy stuff, these softies are fucking making shitloads today out of this online shit. I got nowhere else to go, I got nothing really to say and I'm pretty thick. Just like the posh cunt who runs the country! Only difference being I ain’t fucking posh! I can at least admit I’m thick, though. Goofer thinks he's a fucking chemical guru and he's a proper retard.

 

I got to get shit, and I got a lot more raves to blast before I get old then snuff it. Fuck, might go tomorrow, you just got to live for the vibe, for the moment. Live now, fuck it all later. Later, you're probably fucked anyway, so who gives a fuck?

 

That's my motto since meeting Sally. She's the bird I hooked up with in Kentish. I showed her how to play Doom, real bugged out, but she reads Twilight and all that kinda queer stuff. When we’re fucking she goes all Doom Generation on me and always wants to stick her finger up me poohole, fucking creeps me out. Get used to though, I have to say.

 

That's what I hate about those well-networked geeks, though. They’re fucking well smart. They really got the ways, I wish I could suss it. I don't know what industry fucker's cock to suck! SEE THE GEEKS ALWAYS FUCKING WIN! NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO! I FUCKING HATE THESE FUCKING GEEKS!

 

It don’t matter, I’m always a Junglist winner in me mind. Yeah, any random can do some word shit, it’s all about marketing vibes and being a total internet whore today. Without going too porno, even though it all helps! I've nicked Goofer's computer, shitload of porn on it too. Proper retro porn, like Traci Lords and Marilyn Chambers stuff, even John Holmes and Ron Jeremy,too. I'm surprised to find the Maniac Nurses and loads of Manga porn shit, the old hentai stuff,even Cool Devices and Kite, yeah you gotta check them!

 

Goofer’s keyboard always sticky, know why the dirty ripper! Sure, to sell me jam, I have got a fucked thing to say, I just thought about it some more.

 

Ain't really a story sort of story thing, it won't get a Hollywood Spunk makeover thing and it definitely ain't no Plan B Sylvia Young crackhead music vid - he’s like a proper jazz hands muso for that vibe. We all know the bad ass would never get searched right at the fucking end, nah fucking way, he would batter those pigs and lay low for time. Probably got a bank account off shore! They still can't catch the dude who flogged all those FBI created crim phones. Totally unreal nobody thought to use a password!

 

Think I get bored quick, I wish I could get into porn. Heard free porn still got huge business potential. Free never really free online, it just a free advert – suck in those suckers. The good kind, not the exploitation violent shit. I need to chat to that Crisp dude about it more. He's meant to be a DJ too, but they all say that. Everyone's a fucking this slash that.

 

Crisp Roll, Custard's posh mate, said to me in some club that he was some kind of DJ or producer, but admitted to me when he was fucked at Raindance, that he's more like a wannabe promoter. ANOTHER FUCKIN' ONE! He started stuttering, like a proper spazz too, spitting cotton, stringy bile-drool the whole fucking works. Fucking wicked night though. It ain’t no surprise to me.

 

Another fucking wannabe, another sales fucker wanting a slice of the crazy rave pie. The gloss always makes it look shit hot, but he’s just a tout at the end of the day. Figures how he gets into so many places too.

 

A Little Rock ‘n’ Roll Zone Out

Fuck all that, going through loads of old rock tunes, loads of Led Zep, Stooges, New York Dolls, Jefferson Airplane, Canned Heat, Doobie Brothers, Doors, all of them. Even Grateful Dead and Mothers of Invention, trying to rip some decent beats. James Brown and Curtis Mayfield, George Clinton been ripped to shit. Fuck, those Chemical Brothers are smart, they really know their shit and sample the real obscure stuff. I know I’m going to have to dig out the Ohio Players, Prince Buster and Brothers Johnson. Like MAZE too, but I doubt I’ll be able to rip those vibes. I don’t know if I’m going to head out. I got a fiver, but I don’t need beers to have a good time, do I?

 

I got some fucking wicked shit, it just how I'm living, signing on, picking up, chilling, doing a few deals, keeping cool and trying to go to as many raves as possible. I keep thinking I ain’t got long left on earth but fuck it, might as well live while you can. Ed DMX in me ears, Can You Feel The Power, stick on Altern8’s Frequency - yeah the hallucinate mix, banging. Tripping me tits off today, that’s for sure. Fucking do what these fuckers running the country want, you’d be fucked time ago. Wish those posh cunts would fuck off and die. You know the vibe on that one!

 

I think I’m meant to go to interviews and shit as I been on the dole for time, but I just deliberately fuck them up a bit. I go to some of the course things, try not to fall asleep, let them watch me go online and search for a job and apply for it. These fuckers are muppets. Nothing serious but easy things just to do for benefits. If they force you to work, like if there's a job, then they should make it a real job and pay for it. Everyone knows benefits just top up wages, that’s why you always need a bit of cash in hand.

 

I'm shit at interviews anyway and don't really know how to be when I get there. I don't remember all the tips, usually take a really smelly shit in the toilets after it, while skinning up in there. Need a jay for the bop back to the station, right? I do a few lines before it too. Does sharpen me up, I smash some of the odd tests and chat a fair bit of random shit too. So I'm just me at them and that's why I will be long-term unemployed. I don't think Sally's into raves. She's got a really shit job, I can't even remember what, some data entry dull thing. She's older than me, she definitely over forty.

 

But she's like a supervisor, so she's always stressed and knackered. She loved her maternity leave when she had Polly. It's a simple one, it ain't even a blog thing, fuck all that dear diary of a call girl kind of vibe. Needs more porn. Me thing I'm getting down what we do every weekend where me and my mate Goofer go on a massive loved up fucked up mash up and give away loads of drugs to random people in clubs, we don't mind, they might buy you a beer, it makes no different to us, we're old skool shake and bakers. Fucking total ravers, man. We been digging the legal high loop for time, so it's money to us, but we're out to go on a try before you buy thing.

 

You know when people are short of cash, and they go on and on about beer, well fuck it, just a dull fucking beer, though spirits I got respect for. Same with wine, though it's all vinegar to me. But fuck this system, it's fucking shit. And the illegals FUCKING ROCK! I saw the MDMA thing, I was off me nut watching it, laughing. Then I went out to catch Dugs, fucking classic album that Rinse Twenty, trust! He got another classic, the RCFF Annual. Fucking real deal, stands any test of time!

 

Yeah, for sure skag gets messy, but we all got respect for it, they should take it back old skool and bring back pure opium too. But that kind of thing gets all these dull people who expect you to just drink more coffee, eat lettuce or just cut out some meals to buy more expensive fags and alcohol and just get on with it. It got me thinking. I dig illegals more than booze and fags, I always have. But it should all be sold, what’s the point keeping it all illegal?

 

The thing kicked off a few weeks ago. Goofer turns around to me one day, all shitfaced:Yo Bungle Bob, you got a shit job, you got loads of dodgy bash stashed. I nod, lighting another joint. I'm still rushing from seeing Andy C, fucking buzzing, what a mad one, up there with Grooverider. Sweat stuck me shirt to me back, Goofer's full of shit as normal. But he wants to get to another big gig and just love up a load of people not for profit. Like a good time charity thing, as UK’s getting proper shit. It'll be mental. I can't see it going on. Goofer opens a Stella, double dropping some wicked Facebooks. He's going to another after party, some proper old skool ravers going to be there. He needs to avoid sleep. I black out wherever, fuck it. Too old to care!

 

Yeah, Goofer's pretty retarded, known Goofer for time, since we were little kids, when we’d been proper little runt cunts back then. He was always the token joker, a proper spazzkid! We used to pay him 10p to pick up dog shit and lob it at some fucker's door or car. Or for a quid he’d shit on someone’s doorstep. Sometimes we might get him to eat some shit. It was hilarious at the time. He's a total retard, a real tool, dropped out of school at fourteen or some shit. Goofer always had that spread the love vibe about him, but still be a total cock. He ain't tough, he's just another fuckhead. Like me.

 

So that's it so far. Goofer has got loads of pills, he wants to give them away. Proper fucking simple as fuck. What fucks it up all the time gets to be those little things you know fuck all about! These pills aren't great for one. They ain't pure poison so it sweet as, they're just a bit lightweight, like some Love Hearts. They used to be wicked, like Doves and Mitzies but they can be a bit hit and miss these days. Not totally shit, though some are for sure. I feel old at it, but I still feel I know shit. It's weird but I just like getting proper sky high. But it saved me life, I ain't joking. If I wasn't a fuckhead, I might be dead. Still keep thinking, got Mississippi Queen stuck in me head, fucking Regular Show style!

 

Last time Goofer had some poison, his mate Trollo, some fat fucker who just ponces off everyone and goes online a lot. Serious, he’s a fucking fat geek, I never spoke to him for long and he don’t say too much. He’s almost as bad as Clive. But Trollo’s a dull fat fucker, just looking at the geeky fat fuck, all spots and Muscleman moobs. He ain’t even that sharp for a geek. He just on his phone, doing all his fucked Facebookin' Twitter shit, thinks he’s a fucking mover.

 

Trollo’s got some geek blog apparently but he’s a dull fucker. I can’t believe he’s into porn real heavy. Yeah, well, Goofer had some poison, real shitty bashed up bugle. It was evil, real intense short lived buzz with the shits afterwards. It was vile. Though better than his last lot cut with that high temp trip shit. Goofer got the shit kicked out of him, while Trollo was trying to sell fuckheads mints. Fucked people will buy anything but if you’re used to getting burned, it’s normal. Most middle class kids worry about getting done but it means the person who burned you ain’t got a clue dealing.

 

You can’t make serious money doing it, you might make a bit, but you’d actually make more dealing quality gear. Even the chancers knocking out shit gear don’t get return business. We all get funny when Goofer brings gear around, none of us buy it from him but he will share a bit, even though he ponces off everyone. He’s a funny retarded fucker really, if I had not known him since I was a kid, he would have probably ended up in traction by now. But I’m a lover not a fighter.

 

Crisp hates Goofer’s poncing as it’s so blatant. He’s lucky to get a line and a roach some nights when he’s dry, or he can’t find some mug to knock something out to him. Saying it, most of the time Goofer’s always got gear. His skin head shiny, his face covered in UV paint, puke down his top, burnt trackies and dirty trainers, Goofer gets away it all the time. He always looks a state. He just don’t give a fuck no more, he don’t love the music or anything, he gave up time ago.

 

Yeah, Trollo sold the wrong fuckhead some mints. It was that psycho from Croydon called Musky. Musky made Trollo eat them all when Trollo thought Musky was returning for repeat business. Trollo really was asking for it. After a while that bad vibe always comes back to haunt you. Me, I can’t wait till it’s all legal. I hate the fuckers fucking around with me, I’m getting too old for some weird deals too. But fuck it, I want to get wasted! Trollo had the shits real bad. That was the last I ever saw of Trollo. Musky broke one of his ribs and split his nose over his face. Just for the fuck of it. Musky’s knee done the damage to Trollo’s fat nose, so Trollo ain’t been out for as long as I know, which a real shame as everyone has to rave. Got to be done, right?

 

Goofer phones me again, I can’t be fucked to chat to him or any other fucker at the moment. I’m having a karma moment. I stick on Acid Thunder, I gotta get those vibes! I light a jay then remember I got some shrooms ground up somewhere!

 

Fookz

I ain’t conked for days, I think I applied for some job online and told them all the drugs I like to do. I think I pretended I was Clive. Fucking funny, I do that a lot. Total employer fuck around. Probably call Clive to try and sell their shit forty hour minimum wage piece of junk job. I suppose it work, right? That’s what all the tight ass cunts say. I must have blacked out after Thundercats.

 

Goofer brings the gear round. I’m expecting a fair bit of crystal meth. He's already done most of the snort and already knocked out the skag. Shitloads of beans. Way too many for Goofer. Goofer’s acid has to be something carcinogenic, off a farm; it like all his funky shit, nicked off some industrial unit or farm. The Chinese paint thinner was the meanest I ever had, needed to wash me brain inside out after – didn't know if I was tripping or not, it flipped me completely. Goofer's got a secret venue plan. I don't know how many people he knows to pull this one off.

 

It ain't the '60s, you can't just dish out acid and legal shit for free now. Fuck that risk, getting all kinds of fuckers hitting you up. It's a bit strange. Acid can be unreliable these days, too. You do shit what’s got to be poison, probably some fucked fertiliser, BZP, GHB and GBL all mixed together, where’s the fucking THC? It never pure acid. It wasn't great great, but it wasn't bad. Not like the footage going to end up on SBTV. I’m more tuned into D&B TV, some Rave TV, definitely Clubland TV, when I can and always the shit hot Boiler Room.

 

Though to be honest, fucking shitloads on the net, fucking tonnes of it. Then you would get the mental shit that would fuck you up proper good, you know A&E might need to be done. Stuff can be sick in more ways than one. Good or what? I don't know, do I? Ain’t Tim Leary! Loads of old hippies claim never to have had a bad trip. Fucking lucky fuckers, man!

 

Goofer's already fucked, his eyes bulging like gunky sweaty eye ball bags. Doorbell rings, Custard's there. Another massive fuckhead. Custard mo'fuckin' Cream. Why Custard Cream? You ever see a half white half black man with long blonde dreadlocks? A proper hippy Rasta, raving for life! Custard Cream, looks dodgy, poor fucker can never get trusted anywhere. He’s the worse hallucination ever and the most laziest graffiti artist ever. He's officially homeless, but he ain't a real poor fucker.

 

The fucker’s always got money to burn, even if it’s just a little bit. He can't eat, for sure. He always got cash for gear. Chatting about some Aquasky vibes, he’s got theories on everything even if he knows shit about shit! Yeah, I guess he's a diamond bloke all in all - real safe, real sound. He's pumping Major Look's tune with Ragga Twins off his nicked phone. He switches it to Killa Sound, what a fucking tune! Yeah, he’s always cranking some tunes, always gotta piece of some random poon.

 

Only drops in Seance off Mad Dog EP – whattta fuckin' legend, who'd thought we have so much in common?

 

Trick with Custard being he never seems to live anywhere. I offer him the sofabed all the time but it like he wants to be homeless, always some complicated set up, he wants to be free to sofa surf. He's a proper old skool nutter, he's got places all over the place. Custard’s usually got all the wrong connections, just more dodgy fuck ups, and the possibility of better gear. It's fucking freezing, but what can you do if they don't want to conk out on some cum stained sofabed? Thinking of it, Custard never seems to look like shit too often, though. I can’t even imagine him sleeping rough, curled up in newspaper and cardboard in some shop doorway. He don’t even have a little dog!

 

Whazup brooderz says Custard, fucking joker. Speaking like a Yardie to scare Goofer, he don't always speak like it. He's a right tanked fucker, when he’s fucked, he lays da Yardie yoot chat on real heavy. I can tell Custard’s already buzzing off his tits. Only when he's buzzing. He can't wait to see Congo Natty and Tenor Fly. Daddy Freddy and Top Cat going to be there, Flowdan ain't bad, his Roll Deep days behind him now.

 

Nothing like all the ladies finding their riddim and moving to full on Congo Natty vibes, fucking sexy as, just pure dirt! YES SELECTA! Custard's rocking and rolling. His eyes like slits, head nodding, Cheshire Cat smile, he's really going for it. Goofer smiles, lighting a huge zoot.

 

Yeh, Hog, Goofer tells me, we're all sorted, it'll be real fuckin' messy innit! We're getting Custard in on it, to help knock out the beans. He's a loved-up fucker really. All one love for him. A Rasta Hippy dude, ain't he?

Can't help laughing like a demon. I tell Goofer: You really are a thick cunt!

 

Bungle Bob's always up the front, dancing like a mentalist. New Acen Trip to the Moon remix, it sweet – still dig Trip to Trumpton Part 3, the remix. Sure, no-one can miss a fat black dude really going for it. For a fat dude, Bungle Bob loves to move. The first Rasta I ever met, that'd be Custard Cream though. He got us into the loved up shit more, he deals with everyone and he don'tcare if they're in a gang or not. Vibes for miles with Custard and we dig it all, too. We been trying to get rid of the angry vibes, all the chips on our shoulders. Custard done it time ago, don't discriminate against people or drugs. Just a chilled out fucker! What I want to be, but I'm too stressy.

 

Custard has never done anything from the sounds of it, apart from rave. And he's a wicked advert for it. Custard tells me his uncle up north still raving like mad. Fuck it, we all want to get fucked, right? Don't matter if you're fucking Lady Poshpants-TightCunt of the Manor or Missy Council Estate Bucketmunter. We all laugh like zombies.

 

Custard laughs like HEHEHEHDEDEHEHEH, real loud. I hope I'm not tripping out. Start seeing X-Wings real soon. I nod at Neo. He's skanking with Skibadee. Fucking hell, maybe it's just one of those twenty-four hour virus things. I can't be glitching! Might need A&E after all. They got some wicked gear at hospital. And a prescription charge is much cheaper than trying to tick another packet! Custard takes the zoot off Goofer and chuffs it like air. Goofer's got some crack too. The fucker’s a walking street pharmacist and accidental poisoner, I got to watch this fucker. Known him for time, but he will knock out every piece of shit under the sun, as well as any other legit chemical some lab fuckers cook up for kicks and easy cash. Yeah, not me thing.

 

Goofer and Custard hit anything and everything. They got the same policy for drugs that they have for people, which is simple: they just don't discriminate and they get whatever they can and hoover it all.

 

I gotta go to bog, it's getting messy here. I might be tripping a bit. Goofer can't keep up with us though, he always fucks up, shits and pukes everywhere or gets into some aggro and gets kicked out. Always over some jungle bunny boiler. I need to go or I'll just piss me self again. I had to find an empty plastic cup to pee in last time, fucking queues do me nut in!

 

Get in the bog, I need to focus. The bog seems to shrink in on me. Like a fucking a tomb. I'm pissing out of every pore, piss all on the floor, better than pissing me self. It's like a proper sweet piss, close to orgasmic, I'm sweating. Proper burn up – yeah me dick always burns, try not to think of it now.

 

I see the ladies’ bog door open and see some fat munter squatted down on the floor, letting rip with a rapid piss that splashes back up onto her hitched up mini skirt. She shit farts and splashes out a runny shit too that just sprays up everywhere. Reckon some laxatives cut in the snort, not to mention lime. Major crazy; she then pulls her skirt down and just staggers out, slipping n sliding, as if it hadn't happened. Thought ladies was always cleaner to be honest, though when you're fucked you be well fucked! Take it the thong got kippered earlier in the night. Makes me laugh. Hate it when my dribbly cock laughs back at me, always doing weird shit.

 

Someone whispers in me ear: Who gave Roland Rat a blowjob?

 

Fuck, what I been doing? Must've thought it, there no fucker there! I don't know, I think I'm just freaking out. Do a sneaky line, a nice Scarface sized one before Custard and Goofer ponce the decent snort off me. Sniff it up hard, then double drop some tasty Facebooks. Fucking sweet. I crown a couple too. I'm getting the vibe now, those others really were old skool Mitzies. I feel it. My cock dribbles as it laughs. Fucking cock thinks for itself these days, don't need me more anymore – savage likkle sonuvvagun! Amazed all the pus don't put off more ladies, they must be gagging n real hard up, don't fucking bother me though. I follow slimy shit floor shooter thong bird, what am I doing? Whoa, she seen me - she only waiting for me!

 

Freak out you proper scary zombie cock!

Doom's Hour

Time flies, shit did I go down on her? Must have shit round me mush! Me cock kinda sore, I get out the bog, slipping and sliding, me trackies feel all sweaty and clammy. I’m static buzzing, clock Custard and Goofer watching a porno off a cracked screen phone, Goofer’s wanking like mad, licking both his palms before slapping his grubby hands on his tiny pilled up cock. Custard laughs at him, filming him with his phone, he can't believe it either. Goofer's really losing it.

 

You guys are fucking fucked, I say. I open another beer, nothing like a cool beer to chill with a zoot, then I see me vodka's all gone. Fuckers! Custard laughs like anything. Goofer shoots his cum everywhere, proper gunning like a rentboy.

 

Fuck, I ain't cleaning it. Man, he's cumming a lot. Goofer's still shooting it everywhere. I rescue another bottle of Jack, fucking sweet as saving that. Everytime I see a bottle of JD I need a half oz of bugle as me taste buds get fucked, can’t taste me zoots, need some more MD, a real loved up detox!

 

Brudduh he be fucked, Custard says to me, hugging me, like getting a little bit tight. Custard gets proper loved up sometimes, he's an odd guy. What fucking club we in? I thought I was chilling at Goofer’s? I try to get Custard off me, I can't breathe. I don't want a bored thing here, though the best fucking blowjob I ever got was off a toothless skaghead in Stonebridge. We need to hit a fucking club, like proper quick.

 

I stick some old skool vibes on, Shit, who’s Wowie is it? I’m doing the Acid Dance, mixing in a bit of the Running Man, then I switch the set to a wicked old skool Billy Bunter mix what goes into a Kenny Ken and Ragga Twins set, I ripped it off some old tape, think Navigator's with them too, though that could be the Micky Finn one in Mannheim in 98. Fucking old skool vibe really sorts me buzz out. I’M UP UP UP!

 

I look in the corner, fuck PC Buzz still there. Poor mutt looks spaced to fuck. That fucking stoned sniffer dog followed me from that club, I'm sure of it. Proper banging rave as well. Why the fuck I nick a sniffer dog? I thought those pig dogs get all funny with their pig bros. It must've followed me. I shouldn't have nicked it, he just looked well funny at the time. In his little doggy Pig uniform. He's even got the little helmet. Not that kind, the Pig kind. Dirty fuckers the filth. Can’t help it, they’re only human too.

 

Such a boring life, they should fuck over the politicians and wedge in more often, too. They just standby when they get to fix their pay rises, while they get cut. At least they secretly know that the politicians are in another world, just leave those hypocrites to it. Fucked thing about these dogs, PC Buzz got mega-munchies and munched shitloads of fucking gear, fucking fucked mutt really pigged out and mixed too much Ket with all that vodka. Dumb dog must have passed out for time. That mutt smashed it, fucking alright dog-pig!

 

Shame the dog shat on the sofa. Didn't bother me. Goofer had put his new jacket in it all. Nice Day-Glo Adidas thing, all proper ruined by runny stoned sniffer dog shit. I didn't say anything to Goofer, he will only find some use for the shit. Fucking stinks now. Goofer’s a dirty fucker, he really doesn’t care.

 

Get me a bit of tissue, mate. Just wet it. I’ll spray it with Lynx, he tells me.

 

His fucking answer for everything!

 

Custard clears the coffee table, moves the PS5 to the charred mantelpiece. Bad move, I don't say shit though. The real fire got ripped out years ago. I'm sure the PS5 will get knocked, smashed or just lifted again, but they're all hot anyway, so I'm not too materialistic. Not when you’ve sofa surfed as much as me in all kinds of random commune kind of places.

 

Where the door’s always open to friends, as long as you hide something or do that, or bring something funky. Favour rent basically, it can be a bit tricky. Thank fuck I never got to know that Musky bloke too well. He’s a fucking crazy cunt. But it's not me gaff, I'm just meant to be looking after it for a little bit and sitting on a lot of gear. All I do now, just chilling for kicks. Fuck, it's annoying when randoms and kids move in but it's a right fucker when we've got a tasty sub-let and no-one wants to stay. I dig what Custard's going to do.

 

Custard wants to know where everything else gets stashed. I know a lot of bashed up blow goes round Stanmore. A lot of the green goes all through Harrow. I don't know the Camden dude, I don't give a fuck, I just get sorted. All them fucking dull drippy hippy rich kids who do my fucking head in. Yeah, sure I'll ponce off them, but the one love vibe struggles with the rich kids, don't ask why. I got to get rid of this class chip, it's really fucking me up, I don't want to be a fucker with every posh cunt, I just want to be cool. Get me?

 

I'm fucking for real, not just loved up, it's really me, I'm all about peace vibes and unity. The soundsystem vibe man, I ain't a cunt all the time. And I want the world to get those vibes for miles and miles. Someone's mixed New Dawn into Dr Funk that goes pretty well. I heard it getting mixed into Krust's Set Speed, too, not bad. Wheel up Burial, fuckers! But someone sticks on a Chili Peppers cover of Hendrix’s Fire. One of those tunes to fuck the mind, but to get you thinking shit it Hendrix but all Chili Peppered up. Fucking funky, weird mix though. When those Yanks were fucking fucked up, socks on cocks and all. Get some real tripped out vibes.

 

Feeling like a wig out vibe coming on. I want to look for some of me old mixes now. All these cheap CDs what don't burn right and dodgy downloads all go a bit funny or get taxed by cheeky cunts like Goofer who always promise to bring them back, but let's be honest, they rip them and roll on, dishing them to the next fucker. Fuck me, I can’t believe all me vinyls are fucked, it’s so gutting. What happens when you don’t look after shit, though.

 

I can't handle it when Custard and Goofer try to get serious. Konectif Ken don't make this much noise. It's all cool for him, they just love to bust their shitty bars, proper pathetic jokey lyrics, Custard doing his awful Funsta impression and Goofer just being Goofer, like all punky too, he spits on for real on the mic, what a retard. And they even spit some funny bars when they’re totally off their nuts, just going on and on repeating themselves. Goofer will be staring at his foot for ages when he starts coming down. I think they're losing it quicker than me. Goofer will get angry when he finds the dog shit on his Adidas, I'd love to see his fucked face figure that out.

 

Custard starts mumbling random shit to me, all about pill prices for different venues, but I can't be fucked to listen, he's full of shit too. I can't even remember what he's saying to me. He's as bad as Goofer but he knows he chats a lot of shit, he don't mind, he knows we know. I look at the TV and the porno looks rough, some fat bird who looks like Pat Butcher getting fist fucked by some skinhead Nazi Gimp fucker with tattoos all over him. He’s even got a tatt on his massive cock. Some shit in Tibetan or whatever. Who fucking cares? Probably says you're really a poof. He's a fucking giant. A well trained giant. I'm a big guy but I know I got to be watching the happy meals and kebabs. You know the score? We look at all the pills and I figure Goofer's doing something cool but Custard's people can get heavy, they're professional ravers too. It will be much better to sell them to make a bit. But Goofer's got another idea.

 

Goofer shoots his load over the TV again. Dirty fucker can't stop cumming. He licks it up, too. Custard said he'd give him a score if he licked his own cum up. Goofer said Sure thing right away and licked it all up. No joke, I'm almost puking. I find some bog roll and wipe the TV. Fucking dirty cunts, I say. They only laugh at me.

 

I got some interview in a bit, I can't leave these fuckheads here. You know what, I think fuck it with the interview. Fucking shitty call centre number anyway! Where's it going to lead me? Fucking fuck where? Just another shitty stat! That's all. Bungle Bob can't be found, never answers his fucking phone. It's too much when you just want to get sorted.

 

Kookzenfookzenskanx

I wasn't really feeling it, I'll make out I feel sick. I go back in the bog, do a couple of trips and bell up the call centre wankers to snore off this interview. Some dizzy totes cool flake speaks in Faceache and text chat answers and emoticons - all ooh-oh, oooh-o-uh! Sounds like she getting horny but she put me right through to some office. Some dull fucker picks up, sounds real pissed off.

 

Yeah, yeah, I go, I think I've got food poisoning, I ate out at a posh restaurant last night and it's just made feel real bad, real sorry to miss it. Maybe we can reschedule? I go. They give me the Sure, sure, whatever fucker treatment! The old classic - we will contact you for another interview. Phone bullshit, I’m immune to it. Fucking grown up on it! Don’t bother me. I know they won't want to know me. That's it. Don't bother me, wasn't going to get me anywhere was it?

 

Fuck them all. Need some mandy to take the edge of the toxic trips I dropped. Fucking old shit pisses me off. I got to stop doing acid for breakfast. I got to finish me other tune, I think I might call it Da Skunkin’ Skank. I got a sample off some old skool Carl Cox English Muffin remix, the classic Blood of a English Muffin I think, then stuck on a vocal sample off Regular Show. I’m going to do one off Ren and Stimpy too. I don’t think I told anyone about it, though when I get fucked I tell fuckers my life story - I bore the fucking pants off them. Too much truth serum, what you see is what you really get with me!

 

I get out of the bog and Goofer's already sorted the pills. Custard's got some other pills.

Dese tings are real tings mon, Custard goes to me, smiling like a laboratory hyena. Go on then, I go to Custard, let me have a few. Just a fucking few, yeah? Fuck, you never can tell if there any good if you don't fucking do the fuckers! I take the other joint off Goofer, he's stained it with his cummy fingers so I pass it real quick to Custard who really don't give a fuck.

 

Custard will do any fucking shit too. He did burn the roach though this time he ain't daft, and he wasn't up for wasting a decent toke just because Goofer had cummy dabs. I look around, PC Buzz smiling now. What a stoned mutt, poor old sniffer dog. Perfume don't work, they say B.O. can be bad, but a dog's nose is wicked. Though it can get it wrong. Fucking massive cocks, too. I wish PC Buzz could roll some zoots up, I can't be fucked. Fuck man, I tell you, I see him shaking his head like a real pig. But he smiles again. He loves giving me para trips. I can't cope with too many of them. Fuck it, man, too fucking fucked! I'm seeing a Police Sniffer dog. I just hope I didn't nick it for real.

 

So I wake up, I'm at some club, I got me trackie pockets full of pills and a huge bag of weed near the back of my pants. Space Shanty getting mixed into Salva Mea, I can't think what's next. Sounds like Strings of Life and Acid Rock. Love System too. Always remember me tunes, or try to anyway, just fucking having it. Need to check out Jerome Hill real soon, he’s got some proper old skool skills Eruption FM styley.

 

Real lucky getting all these beans in here, looks real tight. Huge security fuckers going around, pushing through the crowds, with little torches and armbands, searching for the major fuckheads and the major players. They dig they lost the war, they're just putting on a show. I suppose it all commission too. Most of the door fuckers control all of it, you got to watch it to start doing shit in there. If they found shit then they would just be selling it back to me later anyway.

 

Yeah, it's real hot. Think I’m tripping. Probably start see PC Buzz again. Where's the fucking ice blast things you see in Ibiza? I’ll never get enough cash for Ibiza, I hate being a proper loser but unless I can blag it, I'm missing it. I do find a way to freeload, blag it all. That prick Clive wants to be some kind of rave documentary maker now, what a dull fucker! He’s realised he can’t mix for shit, but he’s rich enough to buy a phat camera and digital it all up being a HD fuckhead.

 

Fucking sweating like a baboon's balls, the sweats sticking me clothes up. Fucking hell! How I get in all of it? A posh bird tells me I'm sweating, I smile at her, shrugging then tell her to have a chilled one, dishing a couple of pills to her. She smiles, looking all shocked, her face like ooh I say mister, I do believe I'm at a proper real rave now. Props to you, she goes. Sounds real posh, like Lady V, sexy posh D&B bird. I say, it's a rave babe, not some kiddie pop shit. She don't know what to say, her shy mates seem to find something funny.

 

Unlike some people, I don't live to look good for my Facebook photo wall profile piece of shit. You got to be a bit careful on there, some right fascists patrol it now. Stalker botches like Layla too. Way too many freaky people. Love them sure, make the world funny.

 

But they're proper freaks. I got more important things to worry about. Like I hope I don't start thinking about that dream I had with Anthea Turner as some dominatrix Nazi bitch. Lorraine Kelly's in there, too! Fucking know it, everyone’s fave MILF!

 

With her whip flying, tensing her tight vampire slaying leathers. Don't ask, I can't go on about it, freaks me out as well. I fucking hate all of the wack scary shit, I like the chilled breeze, the Ying and Yang, smiley faces, big smileys, all the space stuff. I dig all that, not fucking seeing my face rot in fast forward in the mirror. That gets real freaky. I mean, I had some real hairy moments. Fucking wait for the Amen, pure shape cutter vibes!

Part Two: Easy, Geez!

Masssssssif!

Goofer and Custard are having it right out in the middle of the club, Goofer's got his shirt off. Dripping sweat everywhere, he looks fucked, like a proper MJ zombie. He's thinking of chipping early so he can have a huge comedown wank during Milkshake. A shrivel job he calls it. He's always into some tweeny TV presenter, man. He bashed one out over Holly Willoughby one time, didn't even care I was there.

 

Sounds weird, bashing one out to fit Tweenie-bopping TV presenters, though Goofer told me he even creamed a quick one off to that Tracey Beaker thing one time, ages ago. Don't mean I'm a perve! Goofer tells me. He says: I was fucked and bored, you know how it goes? She's really fit, too, it just happened, a simple natural reflex wank!

That fucking cracked me up!

 

Think Custard always stays out, got another after party lined up at another venue. Eksman's after party thing probably. He's a fucker mentalist that Custard. He really goes for it, then you don't see him for a bit, then he's fucking everywhere, then he's gone for a month or so. Never longer than that. Then he'll have a fuck party at some random's house, sometimes he bells me up to let me know. Last time we porked a couple of posh looking birds from Mill Hill. They were no way twenty-five, that's all I'm going to say. Going to Croydon at some point in the next day or so. Fucking hate Croydon. Love the fucking Roxbury though.

 

Custard smiles. Says to me, we done it brudduh, we fucking done it! We gave away a shit load of pills and got everyone buzzing for fuck all. Going to make it here. We'll do it again sometime, he says right down into me ear, hugging me. Wish he'd stop fucking hugging me, but fuck it. We're all loved up. I smile. I say how much you make on your decent pills? Custard laughs and doesn't say shit which means he's made a mint and has probably stuck all the cash to him in various places, not to mention in a plastic bag in his trainers with the rest of his endless stash. Big feet, big you know what.

 

He's a sharp one that Custard Cream, for a major fuckhead. He's still got some left and dishes me a couple of pills for fuck all. I thank him, he's a good bloke really, even if he's a bit random. I can't find Hog around. That guy gets worse trying to find him when we're out. Says he's going to the fucking bog, you see him three hours later or outside puking his guts out behind a fucking dumpster at the end of the rave. I look around, fat pogo dancing, throwing and cutting me shapes, I see Jodie, fuck she's getting well hot and heavy with Goofer. She's so fucked, she don't suss Goofer's fingering her camel-toe cut offs right in front of Ruffstuff and Shabba, they're having it, proper smashing it. Big up Congo Natty brudduh, says Custard Cream. Looking forward to the Kool sessh that’s for sure.

 

Shit, Custard's so caned, his eyes are hardly open. Like a weird hyped up zombie. Usually the eyes are bulging, popping but he's done shitloads, he's still slit eyed. Fucking legal highs for you, his heart must be going like a bee's wings!

 

Bladerunner cuts in, fucking wicked remix, up there with that Jazz Note mix. Shit, I get why Custard said big up Congo Natty, fucking song before it was fucking Badder Dan Dem. Custard told me he signed a petition online and saved the world, so he tells me. I laugh - fuckin' petitions! - but Custard says he’s well up for them and wants to do more charity things.

 

You gotta be careful sticking drug money into charitable foundations, and I told him about a couple of footballers and a athlete who tried to do something similar before getting done for it. Saying it, some get away with it, think it's all about taking it slowly and not rushing what you stick through it. Bugle's big money though, you don't fifty thousand under your mattress, do you?

 

Vibes mashing me right up, proper deep in my brain! Love Vibes, real super mad DJ, a great bloke too. Cracks me up, looking forward to his Vibes and Livelee shows. It's like being a space capsule. Or in some bunker. Travelling without moving in lightspeed, while the sounds of the future keep you buzzing! We all got sweeties in our pockets, come up faster than Bezo's rockets! OH YES! OH YES! OI OI! FUCK YEEEEAAAAH!

 

I'm buzzing, like real off me head, it makes me think that it like a heaven; it really is on Earth matey! Torchman up after Remarc, I don't give a shit about the bar, the queues here and there. Usually for the bogs! The best clubs always make you forget reality, as reality has definitely forgotten about you. Something a wet field, at some festival, can't always do for the DJ. But anywhere will do, to be fair. Thumping bass for a loving – some bird just comes up to me and says, You fucking cunt, I thought you’d be here.

I’m stumped, maybe she’s that moody bird from Fabric. She got all that American football top and Raiders cap on, poser Yank shit, I don’t know all the fucking teams, fuck all American Football, fucking shit! You ever watch it? I’m into real skill, real football. Soccer as the fucking Yanks say! I try to think who it might be, oh shit no fucking way, I’m -- Shut up n lissen, she says to me, wrapping her fingers around me mouth, giving me the old chubby cheeks treatment.

 

I’m stunned because I can’t think for shit, she’s fucking with me buzz big time!

 

Then she looks at me real close and goes, Shit, sorry babe, I’m soooo sorry, babe, I thought you were someone else.

 

She lets go of my face, looking slightly embarrassed.

 

That’s cool, I go. I breathe a sigh of relief, wouldn’t want to be that fella when she finds him. The fires in her eyes have dulled, she does a little smile, attempting shy and failing badly, sipping her Smirnoff. Looking cool again, as she awkwardly looks around then chips off into the crowd, the safety of the mass of bodies.

 

I look next to me, fucking MILF bird looking like a skagged up Anthea Turner!

 

No way, not you again? I say to her.

 

She does a fakey smile, maybe she’s a bit wavy as she gushes, Hiyaaa Hog, how y'doin'? I didn't think you'd remember me!

 

What can I say to that? She’s right but, fuck, talk about psychic!

 

Fuck, how can I forget you? I go.

 

She hugs me, then whispers to me, I'll sort you some more later.

 

I nod and she slinks off towards the bar. I shout, I need a Jay Dee! She don't hear me. Then the mix really gets going, a proper jungle smash, fucking go on Kenny Ken!

 

I go mental to the ruffneck sound! Yes, Kenny’s going in hard with the bangers, proper choonz as Custard calls them! Every Man Do His Thing a Little Way Different! Looooooove it! It’s a wicked remix too. I dig the DJ Monk mix. I think it Monk, I ain’t too sure now. Tough to keep up these days, so many wicked mixes. Wonder if he’ll drop Soundboy Love and Soundboy Robber in the same set. I should know the flow, but me mind’s mash up!

 

It gets confusing when you’re getting fucked all the time! I just got to go mental! I got to move, got to dance. Yeah, fucking time must've gone real quick, it's emptying out, just the usual fuckheads there. The ones I nod at, they nod at me. That's it.

 

Maybe the odd smile in rave loved up unity, but they seen me around, I'm sure I've seen them around, but we're always way too fucked to remember our fucked up chats. What you getting for getting mashed up. Fucking wicked! Yeah, oh yeah! I should've filmed it on me phone, but it always looks shit and dark and sweaty then there's a random face on screen, real fucked. I don't film too well when I'm fucked anyway, dropped me mobile so much? Fucking smart phone shitter, too many ten minute selfie ravers these days. I wipe the beer and sticky stuff off it. Fucking check me mobile, what the fuck? Why I am following fucking Dreamies on fucking Facebook? Facebook’s fucking dull as fuck! Fucking mind always fucks you up! Don’t go on Facebook or Twitter too fucked, you’ll get into shit. I look around, I think everyone just left me zoning. Fuck knows where they are, I zone out, dance with a few randoms.

 

Poon Goon

Jodie comes up to me, looking all foxy, she's covered in sweat, looking real hot, like I just want to ram me cock in her right now, she's hotter than the sun. She's saying to me, Babe, yoooo b-b-b-babe, we got to help some fuckers get into Parliament. She got some coked up meth-head stutter. What she fucking say? Only Parliament I know got to be the one with George Clinton. I laugh, thinking she's joking but she's fucking dead on straight up all for real. Fuck me! What the fuck? I go. It’s got to be a con, fucking been beaten to a pulp for shrapnel and an oyster card before.

 

Yeah, babe, Jodie goes to me, chewing her well chewed gum and her chewed up lips. The gum has specks of blood from her lips and gums, it’s going cherry red. She's loving it, a proper rave junkie, she's always putting it about, she's up for it all the time. I don't know why I haven't tried to fuck her. Custard been rocking the shrooms, offers me some and hands me a zoot. I think Custard's spaced, I'm not too bad. I will be soon. I think I got to count the rest of me beans. I got beans coming out of every pore, fucking every pocket, got me some wicked pills. Fucking A! I check Jodie out again then it hits me, real hard.

 

I forget she's got kids, I just want to fuck her like mad and be with her. It's another trip out to Sound of Music. I say to her, You still with that other hench dude, babe? Jodie looks away, shrugging. I say again, in case she didn't hear me, You know, the gym boy who can't handle being out till four a.m.? She's all like, who the fuck? Oh yeah, yeah, HIM! Jodie laughs, a laugh like Adele's. Just fit as fuck. It's a bit forced, but gym jock random's a dull fucker, so he's probably hurt her. He can fuck off with his V8. Though she's got some mental ex, the father of her kids, too. He never learns to put that woman first, he’s a fucker who just wants attention and aggro. I can be a proper cunt, but I ain’t no scary fucker like that. Fuck all that. It's just I got so much love to spread - fucking vibes for miles baby!

 

Hell yeah, it gets a bit weird, did they just say got to go to Parliament? I never been asked to bust into Parliament before. I'm sure it can be done. We don't look like MPs though if I beat a few up in the bar, they might find us more believable. You never know, they got some crazy security checks. I just hope Tiny McFuck don't pop up.

 

Tiny McFuck's a crazy fuckhead. I’m sure I imagine him, like Willow’s devil child. Fucking mentalism. His sister’s fucked too. I know many people will pay to avoid him at the moment. It's all a bit much. Jodie smiles at me, she whispers that she spoke to Tiny.

 

Fuck, I think. It's going to get proper messy. Oh yeah, real messy. I got that weird feeling that Tiny knows something that's going on with the world and it gets me all tripped out. He was fucking a couple of politicians at the same time a few years ago. A Tory and Labour one. They were both a bit rough but he said they were proper adventurous and done lots of drugs to get going.

 

I don't know how much bullshit Tiny peddles me but Jodie digs it all. Tiny can get anything sorted, he sorted me to go to this wicked Acid party, Slipmatt and Bunter on fire. ACIEEEEEEED! Yeah, sure it’s a bit before me time, but I was off me nut, I’m still going to be off me fucking nut for it. I faded into time, Tiny meet me, we chew on some rancid shrooms, I can’t even remember half of it, Tiny on the Jacky Dee, too many fucking shitty shots while tripping - I was so fucking spaced I am amazed I didn’t puke. Though I done a massive turd the size of fucking Big Ben and proper blocked up the bogs. It was a wicked time, I’m amazed Tiny got tickets sorted for it. I even saw Ken, Custard and Bungle there for a bit.

 

I get back to reality. Well, sort of. I think I got to sign on tomorrow. OK, I say to her. Let's go, let's go to Parliament. Jodie laughs. She then says, hugging me, rubbing me cock with her chunky butt, Listen babe, Tiny's making the most messed porno ever in Parliament, then he's going to blow it up. PC Buzz turns up looking lean as fuck, smiling. I love that dumb dog, always good to have a proper stoner sniffer dog on your side. Love you Buzzy. He lost the drug war time ago, he loves it. Yeah, hope he don't try humping me leg again. Down Buzzy, fucking easy boy!

 

Jodie then tries to talk to me again. It's too much, the emotions are surging. The only emotion I seem to have, all the time, that need to fuck when I'm fucked. I just can't focus on shit. Jodie goes to me again, Tiny's going blow up parliament with pussy squirt juice. I can't stop laughing, Jodie's hugging me, laughing with me. She thinks I'm proper wasted, I think she's wasted. I give her a good kiss, feeling her right out. She's up for it too. She don't look like she cares. The tunes sweep over us, it's all getting hotter than the Sun.

 

I aim to get higher still, skyhighskyhigh, I think it's time for the foghorn at dawn. The mix gets tighter, deeper, like a real mix up of new and old, Champion Sound, then another tune I forgot the name of, shit, I hear it all the time. Fuck that's going to piss me off. Then Jodie starts really freaking out over me, she's all over me. I don't know what to do, but me cock's reaching out for her. Anything that stirs me cock from the meth belly got to be doing something right. I let Jodie's chunky butt rub against me hard cock. I need to get into that new DJ Pleasure tune first, fucking wicked, we grind to it, Jodie really likes me more than I think. I didn't think she would be into me, I didn't think she was into fat black men, though.

 

Guess I was wrong. I'm well up for a sneaky chubby fuck. She's got a real woman body, with proper curves. Not one of these dull waifs who need you to stick your head up their cunt for them to cum. A real woman with real curves, fat rubbing fat. All cool with me. She cuts no shit either, she knows what she wants. You can tell she's been mucked about a lot and just wants to get out and have fun before she's too knackered to do fuck all. Heard about her mad coke dealer ex – who ain't? She's got some shitty office temp number, telling fuckers to snore off all the time, she got to go there in the morning but she's going to blag it and not let it fuck up her Friday night. We keep laughing, we laugh at PC Buzz too. What a stoner sniffer dog!

 

Hang on, babe, you can see the dog too? I go. Jodie just nods her head, like one of those nodding dogs in a car, that wicked Funky Flirt tune on Slughouse gets dropped, please mix it into Kemet's new stuff. Fucking have it!

 

Booya!

Fuck those Blue Mondays, I always got me Blue Smileys! Here's what went down: Get back to Jodie's, we get the night bus from the stop near the club, can't be fucked to hang around for the tube or risk a tripped out cheapo psycho cabbie telling us stories of how they fled some shitty country. Fuck hearing all that when you're buzzing still. It weird enough just watching the fucking news now and then. Not like there's a McDonald's to chill in round here for some reason. Need to just shift it. Decide to jump on the bus, we're getting real shivery, all methed up. Her eyes are all blurred, we stare at each other through thousands of methy kisses.

 

Fucked Jodie up the arse, four or five times, made her runny shit mix with me cum for choc icing.

 

Fucked her pussy hard, fucking beat that poon! Still fucking, cock all bruised and her kooch got red raw and blood mix with me cum, a dribble of gingery shit, kind of looks like some kind of fast food special sauce. She couldn't take me cock no more, her pussy too sore, me cock's proper raw, all dried skin and dried cum. Always a but, as she wants more, no joke me foreskin bleeds, cock all bruised by cunt rubbadubbin'. I don't mind, I want to keep going but then Jodie's gotta pee. She's can't be fucked to move and just pisses everywhere, along with a proper massive fanny fart pussy squirt. I cum over her face and titties then pass out. Feel real fucked!

 

Woke up, she's sucking at me dirty cock, biting it, licking the sweat and dried cum off me dick, like a wicked retro Traci Lords classic porno style wood suck. Jodie's eyes are blood red, real deep. I stare into them and drown; she can half suck a rod though. I thought me cock would be too shrivelled but it throbs, firmer than gristle, it gotta life of its own when Jodie's about. I'm still seeing shit though, as Jodie's eyes got tiny little demon eyes. Me penis suddenly smiles at me, does that little cartoon laugh sample thing Billy Bunter used to drop. It then starts laughing like Muttley, too. I gotta be on a seizure trip, hope I don't wake up on a drip again. I black out, see Jodie's puking everywhere though I can't even be fucked to clean it up.

 

Jodie's snoring. I wander Jodie's gaff, all bollock naked, proper scare Jodie's mum taking a dump when I just go into the bog. It should be locked, right? It's not me fault, is it? Fuck! Thought she might proper freak out and call Dibble. I stare at the kids toys everywhere, dirty nappy sacks here and there. I step on one, bursting it, getting gooey baby shit everywhere, all on me foot. I find a towel on the floor, though I shouldn’t go back in the bathroom, I go in anyway, find her mum in the bath; her eyes closed, fingering her hairy pussy.

 

Fucking great, so it's like that. I’m tempted and talk to me dick for a bit longer, doing the stretchy penis exercise thing, as I’m tempted to plough that retro fat fanny, but I don’t know. I shake me head, I’m tripping out. I clocked she got one of those vibrating bath duckies in the bath with her, too.

 

Fucking too heavy for me, best not get involved. Can’t compete with a fucking vibrating duck, can you? She can ask Jodie for a three on though. Best not to fuck with family affairs, it all the same with me. Fucking council estate rednecks man, can't dig that vibe but I can see why it goes down. Who wants to be a grandad by the time you're thirty? Fuck! I can’t help laughing, that’d be mental. I go out and go down to the kitchen, disturbing some annoying Jack Russell. I shield me cock, I don’t want it thinking it some leftover sausage.

 

Go back to see Jodie's watching telly, rocking the Toon Network, smoking a massive spliff. Fucking right on! Definitely the kind of lady I dig. She puffs away, sorting out her kids breakfast. She got a few kids, I've already forgotten them. I'm a selfish fucker, these things don’t always sink in and I just don't give a damn, but I want them to be all cool. I want them all to be safe and all, you know. I ain’t a totally mean cunt. I look around for a bit.

 

Fuck me, the fucking place really needs cleaning. Not DIY shit, just a good clean now and again. You think she might want to hoover the floor. She probably wants to save on leckie. Dog hair and crumbs stick to me feet. I only just wiped them. I don't know about getting involved with Jodie, she's fucking tough to figure, I'm already involved with a bird with kids. I think a couple of the kids might be mine, I haven't bothered checking. She doesn't really go on about it too much now either, just wants to know if I got any cash. She's a pain as well!

 

And here am I, fucked off me face. Same old style, same fucking old shit! Here we go again, here we go again! I should be at work, busting me usual shitty job. I just can't be fucked to better me self, it all leads to slavery, unless you get offered some dream job. It's a proper fucking lottery that's for sure, I can't ever see it happening to someone like me. You know that feeling. I just can't be fucked, pissy fucking shit non-job. I'm about as likely to hit me targets and get commission as the politicians will get with it and legalise every motherfucking drug! Those slimy fuckers will more likely give themselves a pay rise, bum each other, keep taking the backhanders then vote to keep everything fucking shit. Fuck them all. Yeah, I suppose more of the "right people" make more money with shit staying the same, keeping the majority of fuckers down. I can take the pissy job or leave it.

 

Seriously fuckers, I go through shit jobs like takeaways when there's so many real shitty jobs around now, no fucker can be fucked to do them and I really can't be arsed no more with it. I fucking hate this shit society, full of bullshit, corruption and more bullshit. Fuck it all. I should've copped out years ago, and said fuck it then. Make more knocking out gear on the sly, just on the side. Just try to not to get all fucking Scarface or American Gangster, fuck all that.

 

Fucking proper open market there, but it's real heavy. I don’t dig that, I just want to spread the love, the vibes and proper funky shit. It's a lot easier that way, trust me! Yeah, where the fuck I end up again? That's it. In some lounge, just done a few beans washed down with Jack Daniels and Doctor Pepper. Fucking funny! Feeling fine, feeling groovy. Can you still say groovy?

 

Mooosikka!

I've been green for time. I'm feeling cool, it's meant to be a house party. Posh flat in Clerkenwell. Not my gaff, hell no! Fuck, you imagine me living in Clerkenwell? I'm just here for the house party, do a bit of business, have me a real cool time. I got here early. I think they regret letting me in. they are thinking of any valuables. It's always the shit you think looks like shit what turns out to be real valuable. I break an ornament. It was an accident. They see the green, a half-ounce of hash, then they see the Rizla, they see the wraps of MDMA I take out of me pockets.

 

They are still counting. They know you got a bag full of beers and another full of more pills. Of some kind of the Hit and Hope variety, ones usually at a house party thing. Not like you're going make a profit at this while you're getting fucked too. You might if it's some posh ass or proper con-job party. Fuck it man. I got me dribbly cock, I got me vibes, always trapped in me ears, they're going for miles. I'm feeling the love. Me ears feel it too. I could eat them.

 

I pick out the gunky wax and it got a Jon Rundell remix for me, it's all fucking cool. I get some bogies out of me nose and I hear them playing some wicked tune, it's got be Goldie's InnerCity Life. What a classic! I dig State of Mind too. Yeah, I need that radio stitched right in me brain. Dillinja’s Twist Em Out man! That would fucking rock, like, be proper handy. Never lose me tunes then, like one for the future. Yeah, oh fucking yeah! Why am I talking to me ear wax and bogies? I'm slowly sussing that I've smeared this odd potion of earwax and snot around me face, as if I'm some Apache. I need a house party, I'm fucked. It was me first school boy error, though I totally enjoyed it and wanted to be totally fucked.

 

I get into it. Same old house party vibes, all cool with me. The drugs are flowing, I'm feeling, you know, I don't know yet. Feel real fucked still. The mix didn't help! Yeah, who the fuck was on the decks? Gong's Pothead Pixies getting played into Goldie's Ghost, with a bit of Frank Zappa's Idiot Bastard Son mixed into Shy FX's Original Nuttah, fades in some mental Can shit. Then some Pink Floyd, Soft Machine, even a bit of Egg. I don't know what the fuck it called, they're pretty fucked. Bit of Stevie, bit of Marvin, bit of Aretha, even Otis, Whitney and Jacko of course, we can fucking ride it! Then Leftfield's Not Forgotten tune, Coxy's Siberian Snowstorm and Andy C's Roll On. But some Latino grooves too, not just Santana, those other ones I've forgotten. Slides to Jellybean Benitez, just love those old skool loved up vibes with Hendrix's Message of Love mixed in and all that. Has to be mixed right, sounds sweet as filtered in the old skool rave and some that future jungle stuff, rave breaking people, fucking seriously banging. Fucking mash up thing been going for time. Feel fucked still, should slow down. Can’t slow down, I’m zooming, time going to fucking fuck with me a again. I ain’t got shit to look forward too apart from getting fucked off me face again, which going to be real soon. Shit, I think the dude I been trying to avoid was on the decks, no fucking way! What a fucker! Tiny McFuck, midget from hell and a proper mentalist fucker. Telling you, he brings out the demon in everyone!

 

I don't know if I can handle raving with this fucker. Gave me some German acid and it just wasn’t right. Wasn’t acid for one, don’t know what the fuck it was, probably printer toner, I don’t fucking know. But it was fucking weird. Germans can fucking proper have it out too, nuff respec’ to them, that Time Warp’s mental as fuck! But they’re fucking nutty on the chemicals, they just don’t give a fuck as long as they’re tripping balls and getting pissed and shat on! Mentalists for sure, just a different vibe! We’re all one, though, I guess!

 

I mean, the old head is proper fried but I want to be able to get another shit job again at some point in the long-term future. All I get with Tiny seems to be massive debts and random thugs trying to take out me kneecaps with a hammer. It's all happening again in me mind as I see him on the decks. Great set though, for a house party. In a flat. Should be a flat party. Looking forward to the illegal one in Croydon now, and the other one in Ilford. Should be crunchy, as in proper fucking mental, some shit will definitely go down but vibes to the max. All about the vibes.

 

It wasn't flat, never is, randoms going for it, freaks come out to play, all the random fuckheads! Tiny always gets the party started. I dropped some more shit and thought Tiny won't remember me. The place was getting rammo with randoms waiting for the nightbus drifters. No fucker knows anyone. Some people shake it out in the corner, or crawl along the floors tripping bad. Fuck. I ain't too bad yet, even if I get the odd X-Ray pic and can just about stand.

 

Ram Jam Time

Nothing wrong with that, I figure. It's all good. But the problem being I got to find another hanger on. I start talking to some posh bird called Poppy. She's real smart and susses I'm just trying to fuck her. She's cool, she politely avoids it. The chemistry's definitely there though, I feel it in me sweat. I should've worn me SpongeBob tee, might give me a bit more to chat about. She was real deep, talking about existentialism and some old fucking art movie that would probably send me to sleep. Nightmare to spell check existentialism, I don’t want to do that ever again! Fucking long! Getting peak, too. I got it wrong so many times, it was a proper fucker to spell. I ain’t too smart, it’s a tough world if you get slow before you get old. Poppy was a bit of a headfuck, like a real serious bird. All politics and theories on life, old Greek stuff and Clash of the Titans shit!

 

Why you don't want a bird going on about meaningless sex when you think meaningless sex has to be the best kind of sex you can get? For me, just the way it comes. I like it free and easy, I go with the fucking flow alright! Acid Soldier drops, vibes are riding high! Poppy don’t always get it, but she’s got a good heart. We share water and some more pills. I try to get rid of the class shit all the other fuckers pollute me with. Fucking posh artsy boho motherfuckers, they sometimes get me angry, they just don't know how good they got it sometimes. I don't want to go on a class system trip, fucks vibes and kills your buzz quick. Gets all the tension flowing, got to avoid anger, forget getting angry. Proper stresses me out!

 

Though there's loads of things in the world I would sort, like feed people everywhere whatever they're race, they can be fucking Zig and Zag reborn as Predators for all I care. Keep thinking about Predator skanking out! And the big love vibe just to make sure the whole world's sorted and cool. Yeah, it's never really going to change, just look at it all, the world just goes round and round, repeating shit from the past in other ways, in other parts of the world. But I never proper read a history book in me life, so what the fuck am I meant to know? Just never interested me, it a proper rich fuckers club all that.

 

Fuck them. I'm starting to get annoyed with Poppy. I wanted to fist her cunt and butt so hard when she started going on and on about it. Fucking loads of people do it, I say to her. Really? She says to me, in a cute posh, fuck me-quietly kinda way. With a little posh sneer, always makes you think, do they really think they're so much better than us? Fucking ridiculous some of them, they think they're proper fucking chosen. Chosen by fluke, bunch of lucky fuckers the lot of them.

 

Fuck philosophy, you should check out Fritz the Cat or Regular Show, I say.

 

She giggles. She probably ain't got a clue what I'm chatting about. Maybe that acid was shit? Maybe it some creep out shit, and it’s all sweet. Sometimes I hate random trips, too. It's cool though, I could chat shit for a living! I ain't joking, I say, those toons are fucking deep. You're proper deep, Poppy, but you're fucking too heavy with it the shit political way. She smiles, like a posh snob kinda look, but I keep going, I never learn to shut the fuck up! I go, You're like fucking real serious that all these bullshit uni theories you think and say will actually change the world, when all they do is make people think a bit then they get forgotten, hopefully not for long but that's the fucking world for you! That's the thing, right? All these old ideas got to be kept alive, kept going, for new generations. See, I could've blagged uni!

 

She's silent, smiling at me. She knows I’m cynical as fuck. I got a bit of experience, I lived a bit I guess. I give her a fucked looking superstar and a couple of me Facebooks. They'll sort you, I say, dropping mine. Totally Hypnotized Enlightenment. Sure a bit of Earth Leakage Trip filters in, am I hearing things?

 

Shit, I don't have any cash with me. I've only got a card, she smiles, double dropping the Facebooks, washing it down with her vodka Red Bull.

 

I don't think there's a cash point. It's a flat, isn't it?

 

There's the little shop down there. I shrug. It's cool, I go, you got a card, get me a bottle of Jack from the offy, yeah? Yeah, sure, she goes to me, smiling real cute, nodding. She squeezes me hand. I'll never forget that squeeze. I want to fist her and grind with her first. I reckon it’s probably the last I ever see of her.

 

A bit of real deep early Carl Cox pumps, I Want You Forever, got to be Keep the Funk coming in too, and it's wicked. I'm really moving with her, licking her sweat. She's got style. She's smart. I shouldn't judge people so quick. So what if she's fucking posh, I fucking hate class, fuck all that bullshit. It matters sure, through the unfairness of our money obsessed society but that's just the system we all got and it don't seem to get much better. Definitely not with these lying political motherfuckers, say they stand for everything and nothing at the same time. Real content free bunch of posh poser fuckers our government. But she probably went to the same posh schools or unis as these privileged fuckers!

 

 

Temp Bird Blues

Poppy's definitely different. She comes back to find me, clutching a big bottle of Jack. My kinda girl. She's pretty sound, to be honest, and she seems determined to be on the level. I bet she can get real messy when she wants. But the weird thing for me, that she seems interested in what's fucked with the world. She ain't sixteen, she got to be at least twenty-one, but I grew out of make believe world when I was ten or some shit. Adamski biz: punk, mixing n Lego madness. Poppy keeps telling me to read some dude called Miller, too. I'll forget, I'm a fuckhead, what can I say?

 

For a young chick, she digs the whole old skool groove, though I know she's too young for it. I'm just old enough to be a old skooler. Fuck knows what's she's on about. If it ain't a cartoon, a TV thing or film, I only read dirty books and real violent ones. I'm a sick fuck like that. You know it!

 

I started going about old films to here, just random ones like Driller Killer, Evil Dead, Brain Dead, Brain Damage, Basket Case, Bitch Slap and Frankenhooker, she didn't have a clue. She thought them funny. I told her my favourite film has to be Scarface. She hasn't even seen it. Fucking yoots man. She's telling me about some French Faggy Fucker existential philosophy shit and she ain't even seen Scarface. Unreal or what?

 

Didn't stop her teasing me dribbly cock. And what a posh cock tease she was! me cock just wouldn't chill, it went proper hard for time. She was amazed by it. Like it was seeking her out. It was aiming right at her, pointing at her. It could smell her pussy. I could too. I fingered her a bit and lick her pussy sweat in front of her, it turned her on for sure. Maybe, I don't know. We're both fucked. Dribbling loads of pre-cum to shoot and score.

 

She started rubbing me some more, really getting her slim arse in there. But the problem was me dick was so out there, I was so fucking hard, I was struggling to move any other way, Poppy was cracking up, she couldn't stop laughing.

 

I shout to her, Take it as a compliment, you're turning me on!

 

She just smiles, but it's a real sexy smile. We’re definitely vibing up for some proper wicked sex.

 

The secret sexy smile weapon, one all women have it, no matter their race, class, whatever. That smile of being desired. It's all about the one love, man. She shouts back to me, Yeah, you done a lot of shit since you been here, she added. It's me mate's flat, I was watching you from the start, she slurs in me ear, licking the lobe. The drops of cum had stuck me cock to me boxer shorts.

 

Great one! I almost shoot a massive load in me boxers. Fucking notice she's taken off her film-mesh shirt thing if you can call it that and she's got her bikini top showing, sweat dripping off her. She's working loose her little cut off jean shorts. Tasty as fuck! I try to nudge them down with me stiff cock, she's got a tiny little thong on. The beats getting better, mash up acid house, jungle and hardcore with some wicked new mixes thrown in. Love the new mix of On A Ragga Tip, what a fucking mix, it’s killing it.

 

Thing about thongs, you know deep down she's probably kippered it right up. It's getting hot hot hot in here. Funky in more way than one. The vibe's so personal. Then she suddenly says, I've got to go. Where's the bogs? I say to her, I want her to stay. I'll show you, she goes to me. She kisses me gently on the lips, then takes me by the hand, leading me through the slumped bodies kotched everywhere. Looks like a crack house the longer I stay here.

 

Thanks for Fuckin' Off, Fuckers!

Thank fuck Tiny McFuck's vanished. Wicked set though, even if he did probably rip it off from somewhere else. Weirdly enough, I've lost Poppy too. I'm gutted, I don't mind chilling with her, getting her world view on the shit of today. We done a lot of acid too. Why did she give me all her stuff? It's all gravy with me. She's smart, I know that. I just hope she's all cool and goes easy on those shots. She's got a lot going for her. She probably don't want me dragging her down, I'm probably her Tiny McFuck. Just because I don't get something, it don't mean I'm well thick. I suppose it does, I didn't really think about that bit. But I'm trying to get it. I think on where this house party relationship might lead. If only I see her again. She knows I'm older. She knows I'll really ride her. I'm already thinking of her clammy creamy pussy.

 

Yeah, you can dig I don't get laid too much now. I don't. For all my fuckarounds, they're all opportunistic fucks. Like all sly, get me? I'm a proper ugly fucker, I can't hide it, can't believe they tell me I look like Gollum with ginger dreadlocks. It gets me thinking about the future and where I see me in a few years. I doubt I'll keep in contact with half these randoms. I can't see me with Poppy. As in like proper together.

 

She'll probably marry some posh fucker called Miles and have five beautiful Aryan looking kids, living in Shepherds fucking Bush as a illustrator or some shit. I'm not really into settling down and I've already got kids, I just ain't too great with all that, I've tried but I'm way too chilled to be a real traditional father kinda family type brother. All kind of uptight and dull. I'm more of the hippy commune vibemaster, where the kids run free and wipe their own butts from a real early age. Like ten months, or so. We're mammals, we can fucking handle it!

 

I puke up a shitload of bluey purple yellowish puke shit. Thank fuck there's no blood in there. I can't tell anyway, me eyes are fucked! That bottle of Jack went down quick too. I'm seeing all in X-Ray again. It's all cool, I got another zoot on the go. I been here before. Just another mental weekend.

 

Fucking skanking away with those poor fuckers with shit job blues. Tiny McFuck appears. He's changed clothes, he was dressed in a black vest when he was in the mix, Tiny's changed into a little PVC tuxedo and his hair has been shaved off. A small midget devil who always fucks with my head. How you doing Mr Mongo? Tiny McFuck whispers to me.

 

What me name? I can't think for shit. I just know when Tiny McFuck's around it all goes a bit fucked. Well, not that fucked. Just a bit odd. Like he mixes with randoms, from politicians to Z-list celebrities. He's a real life Party Pete. He does me head in, too. He's always got everything. Great tickets, invites to yachts in Ibiza. He's already set for raving abroad. Lucky fucking bastard. I wish I could afford to get out of Blighty. Fucking island prison with a dud drug policy.

 

Tiny's a proper playboy for a midget fucker. How does he do it? A definite player! I don't know the lingo no more, I'm over twenty-five, can you still say playa without getting the shit ripped out of you? I don't give a fuck if you can't get what I'm trying to say now, I just know that me getting this down might keep me sane. For a bit anyway!

 

I get a bit jealous of this Tiny McFuck. Me, fucking jealous of a midget. He's so damn cool, so connected. What a smooth fucker! He knows all these random fuckers but knows people at major labels and proper names and things! How the fuck he even know of the Gory Pussy Collective? They’re like the fucking rave equivalent of the Illuminati!

 

Fuck, I don't know how he does it! He knows them all. He tells me about the new Blapps Posse vibes and Jerome Hill’s new album with Mark Archer. He always brings random girls with him too. He chatting away and I’m all distracted, though I will check it out, I always dig these vibes. We’re alike in many ways, but where does Tiny meet these chicks? Like these weird dykey pikey bitches, who eat each other out at raves! They’re always dressed in Day-Glo Lycra, proper porno action going on. Serious, they go for it. I seen them do a private show, and they're proper fisting each other and doing a weird daisy-chaining thing with strap-ons. That was wicked.

 

How the fuck they get them into the club? It not some exclusive posh sex club, any fucker could go if you got the cash but how you explain a strap-on dildo to a bouncer? Maybe they think they’re futuristic rave horns, I don't know.

 

They do some festivals abroad too, take what you want in there. Tiny's shaking me. Shaking me hard for a midget. Thank fuck he's not shaking me cock. I wouldn't put it past him. He starts chatting and chatting in coked up mandyised belly loved up lightspeed mode, as if he's a fucking Brazilian commentator. He's got people he wants me to meet. I miss the spiel as I'm zoning out. I come round, only just those. Going to need something stronger than coffee, that’s for fucking sure!

 

Jezzy Mongo, slurs Tiny, MONGO! Y'CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER, I FUCKIN' NEED YOUS!

 

No Brazil. Shame, I would have cracked up if he did go BRAAAAZZZZILLLL!

 

Whatta y'chattin' about Jezzy? Tiny McFuck says, right in me face. Tiny hands me some water, then a vodka and coke. I watch him spark up a fat zoot, pull on it and hold it in. The zoot almost bigger than his little hand. That’s freaky!

 

Jezzy Mongo? I ain't called DJ Mongo no more, I say to Tiny McFuck. I down both the drinks. I don't like the rancid tap water here too much. But beggars can't be choosers. I can't help thinking what the fuck McFuck's up to. He’s laced me water. I know Tiny McFuck can be a real fucked dude - he always fucks me head up.

 

Before I feel the party in Clerkenwell really taking off, Tiny's trying to talk me into going to some new club, I don’t know what it’s called, I keep forgetting. Fabio, Grooverider, Congo Natty. DJ Rap, Dillinja, Ed Rush and Optical, Remarc, Brockie, Bryan G, Jumpin Jack Frost, Funky Flirt, Micky Finn, Andy C, DJ Hype, PJ and Smiley, Shy FX, Digital Niyabinghi, Doc Scott, Randall, Roni with Reprazent, Slipmatt, Billy Bunter, Uncle Dugs, Dr S Gachet, Goldie, Ray Keith, Kenny Ken, DJ SS, even Lenni D Ice and Bizzy B show up, loadsa legends there, they’re all Don of Dons. Bang on bruv!

 

We end up at another weird club called Oven Glove. What a shitty name! Maybe I got it wrong. Probably run by posh hipsters anyway,though we just gotta get on it! That's all I had to say. How could I forget! Fuck the houseparty, fuckers! Poppy's got me another bottle of JD, she even sucked me off in the bogs, she felt sorry for me poor hard cock!

 

Shoot a hot load all over her cute face and in her mouth, cum all over her perfect, bleached, teeth - we had a right long cummy kiss too. Her mouth full of cum, me tonguing her, licking it up too. I don't give a shit. I wanted it to last forever. What a sweet cummy kiss! Someone dropped Sweet Harmony. Fucking nothing like a posh blowjob, fucking feel like I've been knighted. She whispers something to me, and stumbles away. I go back into the party, looking for her. Think she's gone, though. Fuck!

 

Doobydoo Hoodehoo!

What the fuck, Tiny? I tell him, You're always busy as fuck then you want to know when you might have fucked up shit for me. It's always out of the blue. I take out my shopping list. You know I've got to get some fucking milk and potatoes, I tell him, shoving the grubby list in his face. I got to get back to reality sometime. I got to eat.

 

Tiny McFuck eats my shopping list and says to me, with a dribbly mouthful of paper: Only the permanent parties remain motherfucker! STOP GOING ON ABOUT YOUR DRIBBLY DICK YOU FUCKING DUMB PRICK! He really shouts at me and laughs real crazy. YOU ARE ONE CRAZY CUNT MOTHERFUCKER, BROTHER! As he's laughing he's spitting the shopping list into my face. All the paper shredded and mushy, all in little gooey spit pieces. Like clotted paper cum. I was thinking of hitting him, but the last time I done that he wanted me to spank him all night. Weird fucker. I only want some fucking crazy shit off him. I don't want to be his best fucking buddy, or his next sex toy.

 

Thing with Tiny McFuck, he always does crazy shit like that to me. He's a fucking fuckhead. he knows I'm a scathead, I don't even know what day of the week it is. I have no idea, which is why I'm getting this down. Tiny McFuck's a proper fuckhead. Tiny McFuck has ruined me mind. He's made us into some kind of radicals. He told me to follow him, just to be a proper fucker. I'm like fine, but let me roll a huge one first. We get a bit wasted and finish off this old pork pie. I still can't chew it. Panda Style comes in.

 

Shit! NO FUCKIN' WAY! A whole fucking day must have gone by. Where the fuck time go? Where? I mean, I don't know what's what. Maybe it was more than a day? Fuck, I don't even know where the fuck I am. Always the way with Tiny McFuck! That midget demon takes you somewhere and you end up with your mind wiped and a bad case of crabs. Or something worse! I think the house party blew over.

 

Fuck, I wasn't bothered about going to Fabric but I really needed to move. And Fabric was nearest, sometimes I don't mind paying the premium price as a one off. Can be a bit much all the time, but the line ups are guaranteed quality. Fucking have it! I love that feeling. What was I feeling? I look up, see Uncle Dugs dressed as the Joker again or something. What a vibe!

 

Always the fucking way! That dull fucker Clive bored me about some so-called hard man dude he knows, Clive calls him Musky. Don't ask why. Think Coxman busted a tune called Musky, didn’t he? But this Musky’s some skinhead dude. Apparently looks like a skinhead version of me, but has a serious bugle habit. Fucking snorting all the time. Fucking dull! Why ain't he out, having it out? I go to Clive. Clive shrugs. He don't know shit. Probably didn’t hear me. Only started proper raving a few months ago, just too busy geeking out before with the fucking online wank club.

 

Clive thinks he's getting an insight into a business. Fucking geeky dick pisses me off sometimes. Musky sounds well hot, too, he's going to be inside soon and I ain't planning on following him. I may be a fuckhead, but I've had me brush with all that shit and I don't want anymore. I can't be fucked with them and their dumb laws, they ain't busting me for shit. I feel sorry for them sometimes. Taking orders off our square and proper clueless politicians.

 

And that's why I don't want to know Musky. If he's out, and we’re in the same club, wherever, fair enough, I gas with the dumb fucker but the dude's always picking up. Clive goes, He's picking up some wicked blow, but he's not really a club dude. I nod then I got to hear the tough rave story Musky laid on Clive who believed it like a sucker. Musky had some random story about seeing Billy Bunter at Global Gathering. Musky says he saw Bunter’s set where he started sawing some wood up while in the mix.

 

Not that story again, about the tenth time I heard it, even Bunter said himself on Kool London it all total bullshit. Not another Croydon fuckhead, I think. Musky's a cunt, just that simple. Fucking selfish cokehead who keeps it all to himself anyway. Gets me if he really picks up decent blow all for himself.

 

Spazzy Cunt Stress Test

I can't remember shit these days, I'm such a spazzed out cunt, I got to watch it when I go to buy anything. Everyone can tell you're absolutely wasted, like really space raiding! Yeah, I been so high I might as well just gone, fuck it you might as well read it off a shitty T-shirt, got Metrik’s Solar tune running through me mind, like some kind of dream wig out. Whole day goes by, bopping along, hearing that tune, thinking I’m being scanned, being fucked, I’m buzzing aren’t I? That’s all, I been there before, it’s fucking cool. You do get looks off pigs and a few para mates won't hang around with you for a bit.

 

I try not to do all that now as it gets a bit over the top. You know a bit poncy. I don't want to stress fuckers out, I'm a mission to chill until I die. Fucking know it. Quiet Storm and vibes for miles all the way for me! Love that time with the perversion sample thing going off, sticks in me mind. Just the way I am, way I think. Been a fuckhead for too long now! Just about figure out the spell check. I just want to party and bullshit and party a lot more and then, yeah, you fucking guessed it! Fucking go and chill the fuck out when I've proper had it out.

 

It was all great once, I had a shit job, I lost me shit job. I dig I was a proper failure. It didn't matter how hard I tried, I always fucked up. I had the worse luck. When I started not caring now more, it all went gravy. Like The Matrix with more strobes, and I been reincarnated as Fritz the Cat. Sure, may be some of me flashbacks fucking me up! But I'm harmless, only a likkle fried! I don't get out of me pram, I bet Pigs wish we're all still chilled out stoner pillhead trippers. Not now, a ton of randoms into aggro, do shitloads of coke.

 

Nothing wrong with it, but nothing right. You need to pay shitloads for decent blow, I mean proper decent blow. Raving helped me realise I was more than me shitty job, I was bigger than me shit job and company number. That was when I was lucky enough to have a shit job. I suddenly remember holding me kid, that smell of baby, knowing it's a little me. Before the ex decided I was a bit unsuitable and just vanished on me. Fine with me, she knew I had fuck all money anyway. I always thought she was too smart for me.

 

Fuck it, man, I can't be fucked no more anyway. It's all cool, though I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss the kid. I always dig what the little kid looks like. The bitch don't even send me a photo, so I ain't got a clue. Always the way with me, living clueless. I just don't know, but it's cool. And being cool can be proper sweet as. That's what gets me when Tiny McFuck gets going. I don't dig Tiny McFuck. He thinks I'm someone else. Been Smarter blasts on upstairs, I think they're starting up again. Maybe we connected with them. Who knows? Where the fuck did Tiny McFuck go? Just faded away, sure I didn't dream the fucker up!

 

Daydream Reemfartrim

I get out of that fucking room. I follow the Leftfield getting mixed in. A bit of Chime with Afro-Left, getting all filtered into Strings of Life. Fucking tunes. No one mention wicked Strings of Life remix but it's getting mixed all good, still waiting for Energy Flash, someone's probably doing the mix on a laptop. Not that I'm some expert but it was so synthetic, you would know if it all mixed on proper decks. We all like the snap crackle and pop of vinyl. Maybe it was a CDJ thing, I don't know.

 

The next couple of hours fly by, I have random convos, like dodgy chats about all sorts. Where this loop came from, where that beat got sampled from, all that. I don’t think I get any right, just chatting shit. Get high n chat shit, or wig the fuck out! Some fuckers tolerate me when I ramble on, too. Must get some of it right, I hug some really hench blokes and some fine ladies, stare at the walls for what feels like hours, just sweating buckets, drinking me sweat and sometimes the odd sip of water.

 

I then can't get a beer from anywhere, so end up chipping in with some cool trio from Kent who soften up the offy. Yeah, they were cool, the bird was well fit, like a kid but she said she was twenty-something. Yeah, well harsh they flaked proper early, they just vanished. I looked around, they all gone, like vanished. Just like in a club, too. Maybe I missed a threesome, I don't know. The thought guts me. There's always a next time!

 

I go into the kitchen and some posh chick's there fucking her pussy with a cucumber and savages her arse with a banana. Baby oil covers the floor, she's got a little webcam all zoomed up on her. I try not to disturb this crucial bit of internet history. I recognise her, but then again I can't think of her name.

 

It's a way to make a living I suppose. I ain't got a real career, though I would miss actually going out to raves if I did get busted. It's just about having the choice. I heard some old skool tales of some heavy tunes being dropped in some prisons and it's quite chilled out. I never done any time so I must be a bit sharp, but they all seem to think I'm a spazz and let me go. Gimme a fine anytime, I'll DD it! I'm no rebel retard but if they want to see me like that then fuck it. And fuck them all, I don't give a shit no more!

 

That's why Tiny McFuck's wasting me time. I look for him. He's nowhere. The posh chick with glasses still doing her special organic produce webcam porn show! I'm thinking of rushing her and joining in. She oiling up a fucking marrow! Fuck yeah, fucking rock on sister! Mash up me marrow! I get the vibes and horn for her, then suddenly think that she's probably got a pimp or some hippy mentor who's a bit of a wrong un, a real right nasty bit of work. Some of those hippy junkies are real tough. I do another wrap of MDMA to myself, I need the strength and Tiny's got the rest of me pills.

 

I blink a few times and I'm back in the club. Fucking banging! Putting the zoot out, tasting all funny. Need another zoot soon anyway. Still love that proper sky high fucked feeling, though. I can really feel it kicking in, even if I didn't taste that zoot. Hang on, I'm back in the club, what fucking club we at again? I ain't a kid no more, all eager to get me willy wet, I give a fuck about where I go now and what munter I’m sticking me warty cock in. I can take or leave it. I prefer to take it, when I can, but you know I ain't all sleazy. I try to be a bit of a Gent. Just a little bit.

 

I even wipe the toilet down in a club when I’m fucking a random chick in the bogs. I taste cunt and MDMA in me mouth, I light another zoot. Tastes cool, but I think I'm going to have to chip the smoke out, me taste-buds are proper fucked. I hock a massive greenie and try to get rid of it but it’s clinging to me, like a phlegm puke-ball from Hell. Fucking mental spit?

 

How the fuck did all this time just slip away? Someone whispers to me there's a houseparty. Me eyes are going all jerky, twinkly tweaking, I can't see too great. I ain't got eyes that I can trust. It's going to hurt when I try to think about it, I know it!

 

 

Sucker Licks

Weird club man, black and white ceilings rolling, like rolling round and round. I don't know if it made to do that, or it's me eyes. I don't trust them. I see through the sweat. Weird crowd, where's the vibes for miles? Thank fuck I'm not dumb enough to carry a wallet. Like the club, though. It ain't Fabric, sure of that. Maybe they changed it all, I don't know, I haven't been to Fabric for time! It's for moody coked up kids nowadays.

 

Fuck knows what club it might be. I see some of the randoms around the house. It ain't a house party but all the fuckers from the house all gone to the same place. I'm counting some pills, I know I ain't done loads, maybe I dropped a few too many. Might explain why time keeps fucking up on me. I'm meant to do something poetical like reverse those words around. Have a fucking italic flashback, hit caps lock and forget punctuation or some shit. I don't know, it all sounds a bit artsy fartsy to me. If you can't get me now with the spell checker on now and then, then you ain't never going to get me. That's the vibe. And it always has been, the vibes always win.

 

Yeah, Tiny McFuck comes up to me, kisses me on the chin and licks my face. It's only for a few seconds but feels like an age, all in slow motion, like proper close up. What a dirty fucker, Tiny McFuck's stripped to the waist, covered in neon UV paint wearing a Roland Rat kind of mask.

 

BILLY BUNTER BILLY BUNTER! he keeps shouting. Dan's having it, fucking proper banging. Proper fucking old skool. It's Mr Kirk's Nightmare coming in. Nothing like catching Vibes, Bunter and Slipmatt going in deep. Keep thinking of Helter Skelter. I was too young to get into the last ever one, and the fuckers wouldn’t let me in. Never forget it, fucking mad trying to jump train from Milton Keynes. I wonder how Tiny can reach me, I'm not leaning down again, making me fucking heave.

 

That's how he done it. He's proper pulling me down towards him. Sneaky little cunt, using his midget strength! I don't want to toss off this crazy midget, though. Listen you demon midget, I wanted the fucking other trips! I haven’t a fucking clue what’s going on. I’m waiting for it to either get pornographic or violent. We’re meant to be civilised after all, right?

 

Tiny laughs at me, shaking his little midget head. Tiny goes to me, real quick, like saying, I’m serious you Mongo, I gave them to you fucker. Tiny goes to whisper something to me, but I think he wants to talk to some imaginary friend. He whispers something to some imaginary person and winks at me. How the fuck I hear him? Nice try, he says as he slaps my cheek as if I'm trying to con him and then he vanishes in the crowd of randoms.

 

You know I really don't remember doing any more trips. I thought Tiny was going to lay the hardcore on me. Tiny's full of shit at times. I hate fuckers always going on and on about getting drugs, getting sorted all the time with wicked deals with all kinds of chemicals and they're full of talk, like all full of nothing. They just sort themselves out, they want a line of you now but they always say they got a line back home just for them. They would've brought it along but they didn't know they were going out. Same old bullshit, same old fucking story.

 

If you had some shit they'll ponce off you in a fix. Tiny McFuck tells me he wants me to meet someone. I'm hoping he's got some guest pass things. I always wanted to meet Skibadee, all these dudes. I'm sure I brushed past Roni Size at a rave, I think it was Roni. What a legend! The dude oozes cool, and a proper nice bloke for real. I was off my face and I don't think Roni could be fucked to try speaking to me, as I was real spaced to shit, just smiling like a loon. I was going to tell him how Krust blew me eardrums up at some club in Vauxhall one time. Real sweet as. Fucking mental shit, a real proper rave. Yeah, someone somewhere mixed in some old skool Carl Cox, a bit of Deeper Mind, even Let the Bass Kick. Fucking love that sample too. Hope the Slice remix follows! I dig it, I love those vibes. Real cool vibes. I feel love, I feel a wave of some fuckedup bliss. And I want it to last forever.

 

Tiny McFuck tells me I got to find someone for him. He says it's real important, he smirks and mumbles something that he might pay me. I don't know what's going on, I can't dig it. The night's almost over, there's no afterparty and I got to find out what I got to pick up. I need to get wasted a bit more, I go to Tiny. He laughs, he knows the vibe.

 

Jezzy Mongo, Tiny says, You’re just a big fuckhead!

 

I laugh this time. A fuckhead laugh. One of those slurred slowed down laughs, you know? Like I’m out of some random 80s sitcom, or some random 80s horror movie that didn’t quite make it into the Christmas DVD selection market. I hope he’s got some more of that acid. But I’ll settle for some manky shrooms. Whatever’s cool with me! I’ll riot and go with the flow, proper vibes for me!

 

J.A.M.H.O.T.

Tiny tells me we're at the Parliament. The Hypocritical Houses of Parliament, I think. Some fuckers making shitloads keeping it all illegal! Fuck, I'm skanking like a mad one, some mental shaman dance. Tiny wants to know why I didn't film me and Jodie. He wants Jodie on film for his personal collection. I don't know why, she's well easy going but I didn't want her flipping out.

 

I don't think Tiny gets that I didn't pay Jodie to fuck me. Anyway, Tiny's warped mind gets me thinking, I think am I going to be a fuckhead forever. Introduced to Cher some anarchist occultist activist chick who wants Jez Mongo to be poster boy for this fucked up propaganda thing.

 

These political fuckers are right hypocrites. They’re proper getting on it. I see cages of rentboys and battered up ho’s. They look like they’re used to the grinder. I think about freeing them but would they listen to a fuckhead like me? Not when you need the money. But they seem to be cool. Taking some down time, smoking, chilling, looking fucked. Maybe they can only fuck when they’re fucked. They’re just like me. I don’t charge though.

 

I ain’t doing no batty action with no MP either. Fuck they make me sick. How do we even vote for these fuckers? If I did vote I’d vote for Obama. But ain’t he American? Can’t he be PM in the UK, too? I’m sure he can. I don’t really know enough about it, I can’t be fucked to think about it. It ain’t ever going to help me! I look at the action for the live floor show. Can’t even describe it! Fuck! Looks like the footage that didn’t make it in Hostel. Fucking mental! Tiny laughs. Evil midget!

 

This my kind of party, he tells me. You got the gun?

 

Whoa! WHAT? He just say gun? I shit me pants over that heavy shit. I hate guns. I seen that Musky clean a fucked converted gun near his balls. Dumb fucker didn’t even know if it had a safety. Fucking fucked up flare gun, you can always tell these fucked up pieces. He don’t give a shit. All for show, he ain’t got a clue. That’s what gets me a bit worried about Musky. I seen enough botched shit go down in me time, too. I wish it was all legal so that shit didn’t happen no more. Fucking hell, just want to get high in peace!

 

I ain’t got no gun you fucking freaky piece of shit. I’m going off on one.

 

No, you fucking spazzed fuckhead, I’m talking about your dick.

 

Me cock? Me cock’s a gun?

 

Yup, smiles Tiny. I think: sure, he’s got some mean porno blackmail thing going on.

 

You owe me, Jezzy Hog,Tiny tells me.

 

Fuck you, you know I’ll pay you off. I give you most of me JSA as it is!

 

Tiny smiles at me, like some mince. Fuck not again, he's sucha messed up fucker, I wonder wht he's planning.

 

I’m making a porno you know,Hog Mongo, Tiny slurs. Don’t you want to have fun and make a bit of cash in hand? It's porn, it easy Mongo man!

 

I shrug. Porn don't sound easy. I don’t take long to think it over though. Fuck it all, porn has to be the future, right?

 

Yeah, why not, I go. Tiny laughs like a psychofuck. All Helium. Fucking Toon Town fuckers. I don’t want no weird shit, I remind him.

 

Tiny smirks, real scary, kinda like Herbert West. Weird? Moi? Tiny says. The fucker’s stroking my thigh now.

 

I then say: I don’t want to wake up and find your gob attached to me cock again, either. That was too heavy, dude!

 

That’s when Tiny tells me he’s got a new production. I don’t hear all the details, but it sounds like it might just work. He’s got to compete with A Serbian Film now, ain’t he?

CUSTARD CREAM

 

So I look at me phone. I don't know what's fuckin' planned. Gonna stay in for a change, watch the whole Human Centipede Sequence. Real fucking mental shit, got some wicked gear too.

 

I got to be honest, I don't have a fucking clue what the fuck happens with dis vibe, what the fuck up with them? Bunch of fuckheads, can’t organise shit. Psychedelic Wild Bunch bizzle; stop, spin roun'!You fucked for like six fucking hours – where the fuck did time go!

 

Anyways, I got to look after me little sister, chilling in Leyton at me Aunt’s three –bed shit hole, fucking crazy bitch. The fuckers are already calling her Peachy Pears. She's a fucking cockhunter for sure, she'll eat up all mandem. I don't do overdo any Rasta-Hippy spill round her, she's too image obsessed and don't want me to show her up in some shitty supermarket.

 

One love, I remind her, one fucking love sister, you gots to love it.

 

You have to wear that? She usually says that to me all the time. Day-Glo Adidas trackies with fluorescent Adidas and a camouflage beanie. Sometimes I rock the blue Samba vibes, but that’s a bit too much. Pain to clean, the Fila don’t seem to scuff so easy for some strange reason.

 

Sure, I go, raving, I'm raving! BEND ANOTHER LINE BRUVVA! SHAPE CUTTER KARMA!

 

You're always raving! It's always her reply.

 

As soon as you get her into the rave, she loves it, she's loving it all mashed up and loved up. Best vibes. Acid, jungle love, right in the jungle techno, one dove, fucking electro psychic masturbation, old skool vibes, you ain’t got a pulse if you don’t love a mash up! Fucking mash up at Fingermuscle!

 

I think about how I'm going to ditch her. She’s all hyped after locking into SubSlayers, they always smash it. Got me in fuckzone mode, just up for having it out now! I reckon I'm up for another weekender. I ain't always around the way that often so I don't know why she's all like, you know, fucking do this do that, go here, go there. Fuck it, same old everywhere. Always going to be another mad one, 88 styley.

 

She’s right, raves all over. She gets some strange ideas. Speaking of strange ideas, I been blasting loads of Strange Rollers tunes, a lot of Gold remixes thrown in too. And some classic Bunter off Kool too. Fucking banging!

 

Yeah, I notice a record bag full of wraps on the kitchen counter, I reckon Bungle's been here. I open one up and sample a bit of the merch; wicked food, I tell you this MD better than eating. Fucking got to light me zoot, I stick on Mampi's Back to 92. Fucking banging tune, I just gots to have me tunes! CHOOOONZ!!! Fucking light it up, Jeremy Kyle on mute on the dodgy plasma TV, I can't help laughing at these fucked chav munters. probably can't bunk a fucking train without getting busted. Attention seekers man! Fucking jokers, always jokes for me.

 

Yeah it's got to be lunch time, but it's dark. Think me time's all fucked up. Shocked the girlfy-wifey-ball 'n' chain ain't belled up yet. I can't remember if I got to pick up the kids from school today. I suppose she'll phone me if I've fucked up. I look at the time on me phone,says it half four. Fucking sweet. School's finished sweet as. I ain't got to do shit.

 

I then get a call at five. Should’ve picked Marlon up at four something, but he had football training. I don’t know. They got to get them young if they’re going to turn into Messi or Ronaldo. Shit, I go, I put the zoot down and stash a couple of wraps before closing the bag up. Bungle always leaves shit around, he don’t give a fuck, it all gets knocked out quick. Saying it, I know it ain't even Bungle's shit, he’s probably meant to be looking after it. We all call him the tick master. I hope no other fucker knows it's here. Who knows what fucked up fucker knows about it. Fucking mental. Gets me real para.

 

I get to the school and Marlon's waiting in the office. Me current lady, Suzi, bells me, gives me what for. She's well angry as she had the school on the phone. I just realised I can't go into the school grounds with a jay on the go, so I chip it out and make sure I smell like a sweaty workman and not some kind of fucked up getting wasted all the time fucker. I know I stink of weed but I hope me stank booty fart sorts out the atmospheric aroma.

 

I am a fucked up fucker, but you can't keep rubbing it in everyone's faces. And teachers are pretty straight as squares, they can get wild, sure, but they get funny they call the cops or social, don't they? You know the vibe. It's the way they do shit. I ain't too bothered what fuckers think of me, but when it comes to me son, I got to think first. If I was Goofer, I wouldn't care. But Goofer's a chronic fuck up. I don't know anyone more fucked up than that fucker. He's incapable. Got to be his MC name. He just gets fucked up so quick.

 

Don't know anyone else who gets fucked up like Goofer. I blag off the teachers, they suss it some communication breakdown, probably think me and missus are finally breaking up. It’ll all be cool when she helps out on the bake sale or whatever shit they do to fundraise these fucking schools. I don’t get it, to be honest.

 

So I got Marlon by the hand, he just giggles at me, his little cornrows looking proper dapper.

Daddy you're eyes look funny, he says to me. He's a funny kid, Marlon always gets me thinking. He’ll be a proper terror soon. He's a good little man at heart. He's all sport at the mo, though that'll go when he starts getting blasted. But fuck it, if he wants to stick with it and be disciplined, fuck it. Who am I to stop him? Sure he's only seven, but it starts young for kids these days. Some of them are signed up to clubs by the time they’re fourteen, and pro at sixteen or seventeen. Crazy shit.

 

In less than a decade he'll be thinking of playing football with the big boys. You know that honour, if it happens. You feel like a man at thirteen or fourteen or whatever. It happened to me for a bit, but I didn't want to work out and all that shit. Some wicked tunes around that time, too. Just getting mind fucked and proper fucked! Fucking around, getting cheap buzzes, having a wicked time. Fuck if Marlon sticks with it he'll earn shitloads but we all know it's tough to break into, or play pro at any level. I just hope he don’t get down. I know of a few pro footballers who still got on it!

 

Gets me zoning out while I walk Marlon back to his mum's. I realise I'm taking him back to me other chill out place. Fucking hell, Clive ain't going to like me bringing a kid back. Get to Clive’s, fucking Plastic Soul blasting, the door open. Weed and crack smell mixing, fucking proper hot, looks well on top!

 

I look around, scoping shit out, the minimalist Ikea furniture looks like it just came straight from the Syrian branch. Fucked to pieces, puke on the floor, shit and blood on the walls. Something’s burning from the kitchen. Clive looks up, his hair has been shaved in places as if he has given up doing the Travis Bickle psycho-mohawk. How fucked you got to be to fuck up that hair cut? I laugh, Clive’s on another planet. He looks at me, then at Marlon.

 

Shit man, a little Custard, he goes to me.

 

I crack up so much, I almost die, no fucking shit!

 

Dude, what the fuck?

 

Fucking Goofer man, that cunt cleaned it out. Fucking after the afterparty, the shit always goes down! That fucker does me head in!

 

GOOFY GOOFER GOOFBALL GAZ aka GOOFA

 

Crisp got fukd!!!! Neva seen Crisp dat fukd!!!!! Fukd dat dik Clive up 2!!! H8 dat posh boy uni fucka! Lik propa fuked up cuz/Nah shit, he got real fukdup lika propa 2 fukd 2 do shit!!! Word boieeee!!!!Fukin fukka!!!! Lissenlissen2me I got sum shit wot I finkd up. Lissenup fukkuz! Shit wot fukinwazit? I cant fink 4 shit!!!! Foouck it all!

 

CRISP ROLL

 

Goofer Gaz doesn't get far, blacked right our again. Sure he got some fitting problem, he always sparks out now. He will always be a proper fuckhead, one of the true wasters in life, and he hates all this writing shit. I am shocked he can get a warm meal without getting himself arrested and banged up.

 

I'm going to have to trick him into thinking he's got to say sorry to an old teacher or some shit. He don’t even phone or text me back, he’s a fucking weird fucker. One of those useless kind of wannabe dealers. The kind who think every phone is tapped, every CCTV camera or police helicopter is looking for them, they’re full of shit. You want to avoid Goofball’s Facebook page, for sure. A pile of shit.

 

I don’t know if it’ll work, this whole old teacher scam on Goofer sounds too tricky. Goofer will flip out, he hated all his teachers. He doesn’t give a shit. I’ll say if he says sorry, he’ll get some cash when the old teacher snuffs it. Might work. That’ll motivate him a little. He’s a total whore, he’ll do anything for money. Thank fuck America, right? Just fucking capitalism baby!

 

Luckily, Goofer’s proper thick but he don't realise how much fun it can be to get inside his retarded little mind. And I actually feel sorry for the sad fucker. Feel sorry for his poor family, what a total fucker. I might be a massive fuckhead drop out, but Goofer's beyond saving. That kid was born fucked up. I mean that's deep. Ain't it?

 

CLIVE

 

I get in another weird club again. Fucking banging. Bass throbs through me, makes me come alive. Feeling fucked in the queue, shocked I got in. I popped too many pills just waiting to get in here, proper long. I ain’t got a knife, stop checking me fucking ID use your common sense, they got fucking cameras everywhere. Just want to have it like a mental moodafooker! Fuck yeah! Now I think I’m getting up up up! It’s coming on! Motherfucking A! I got to start scoring more decent shit! I need to take the edge of this acid I dropped after lunch. Maybe some skag will sort it. I’m just guessing, it’s not like it all total science, is it? Street Chemistry, trial and error, hit and miss. Always the way. I’m a sucker for it. I’m inspired by street chemistry.

 

And, I got to admit, as I sidestep some massive stilt-walker dressed as some Goth demon creature that I’m hoping the pills aren’t cut with ket and there’s enough MDMA in them to bring me on a cool plateau. I’m feeling freaked but I can’t stop laughing. Custard Cream smiles at me, his smiley sweat soaked face always smiling. He’s a cool loved up fucker, I wonder what he’s up to. He’s with some posh horse face bird. Fucking joker, he’s taking her to the bogs. He’ll be getting sorted or lucky. Maybe both. Some fuckers have all the luck. Ayah Marar’s Raver drops, it’s a decent mix.

 

I feel funky, got to move, got to dance. A chubby chav bird zones in on me and smiles at me. I wink, maybe regretting the wrong signals. I can hear the helicopters. I hope Helicopter Tune drops sometime. This seems to be for young folk, well young young folk. They don’t seem too bothered but the old skool vibes always proper loved up and wicked. Some of the new mixes of old skool tunes are quality.

 

Fuck, I think Savage Rehab in the mix next door! I got to check them out again, they were wicked at Coven. Security gives me the evil eye again. I snarl. I start seeing barracudas on the floor, swimming in between the true skankers. I try blending in again, skank survival, what else can a para trip make you do? I can bust a mean one foot skank! I demonstrate the fine art of wasted limping skanking on this chubby chav girl. I then bury me head in her giant jugs.

 

She makes me feel like her uncle at some wedding reception. I’m only a few years older than her but feel totally ancient. I adjust me junglist attire, I think I’ve over done it with the khaki-camouflage combo and fluorescent Adidas trainers. Not a good look when you’re not real fucked yet but fuck it, I don’t care no more.

 

But I don’t do box fresh posing! I spark a fat zoot, on the sly, cup it tight. I notice security doing the rounds at the front. The beat goes on, the bass gets darker, we go in harder, me buzz gets twisted. Chubby chav girl rubs her butt close to me nutsack. I get an instant boner. Shit, now I’m stuck with this munter! Saying it, I’m a munter too! Maybe I’ll get lucky. Nasty Minger time - I don’t even know her fucking name but I don’t think it matters.

 

The security can smell what I'm about. They had to let me in stinking of green, mainly because I used the old blogger bullshit and I've been sorted a VIP ticket by Crisp Roll. The prince of promoters, he's been trying to move and shake in the game. He no Richie Raindance or Grant Epidemik. Crisp's just another chancer but he does love raving. Shame he ain't always up for working it.

 

BUNGLE BOB

 

Way I see it, we’re all proper fucked. I think there's a lot of shit going down with Hog fucking things up. I tell him to stick to the tunes. That's where his strength lies. As soon as he forgets about the tunes he might as well be a dead smackhead. He might as well just fuck off and OD somewhere quiet, like fucking Harrow. Might as well stay in and stare at your fucking toes. Fucking dumb fucker.

 

I don't get Hog.

 

Now I'm looking for him. He's ticked too much. Musky's going to kill him. I got to warn him, not like he would warn me. Hog would sell you out for a roach. I think he's going to some new club in West London. I don't know if it's a new club or one of those new old clubs what just been done up and given a new name, with a new tight ass manager.

 

I get back to the flat. The kid's done another fat shit in the corner. I'm going to hit my head against the wall one of these days. Fucking kids, like baby kids, you know? Proper wild little brats. I pretend not to notice the massive dump but it reeks, real hums. I might puke. I mean how can anyone shit in a corner? The kid's just over one or some shit. And for fuck's sake, I ain't kidding, the fucking monster shit's about half the size of the little dude. I've change four nappies this week. I'm burnt out. Fucking enough, no fucking more. I can't hack it. Just not meant to be for Bungle Bob. Yes, I’m a total cunt!

 

I said it when I found out I had a kid from a one night munter in Southgate when I was seventeen. I'm only twenty-five, I don't think I can keep doing all this Walton's shit. Fuck all that. I stick on some wicked old skool set. It's Brockie at One Nation. Fucking smashing it right up! It gets me in the mood. I open a window and get the shit smell out, but it hangs around. I don’t know whether to bell the missus to clear it up, but she’s probably passed out. Shit, looks like I got to get me hands dirty!

CLIVE

 

I am, I agree. That's what I think, you know when someone says: What you thinking?

 

It's weird, like a karma moment. I'm a fucker. I just can't help it. Yeah, you know it. When you're a fucker, you're a fucker. It's the way!

 

The girl looks at me up from the airbed. This place a proper fucking shithole. No furniture, no fucking nothing. Lucky the bog’s indoors, that’s what I’m thinking. Fucking hate Wembley. She’s a fat chav for sure. But she’s a tasty fuck, proper clam of a pussy fucking wicked. I lick her out to and she squirted over me for time. I mean, I only seen that kind of squirtage in pornos but she’s footloose and fancy free. It awkward gotta chat before hopefully some more fuck action.

 

What you do Crisp?

 

Huh? I go, feel kinda monged.

 

What you do, she giggles.

 

I got to think. What move I gonna use. How can it help me? She so fucked she can’t tell I ain’t Crisp. Fucking jammy bastard, they all want to fuck Crisp! I do what I do best, trying not to lose me boner, and keep playing along.

 

I tell her, I’m a promoter babe. I know them all, Bunter, Slipmatt, Dugs, Grooverider, Fabio. I had a pint with Roni Size and Andy C the other day.

 

Yeah? she goes. She looks impressed, she’s buying it. How dumb can you get? She wants to chat on, trying to find if I no any industry plums. Most are real sound, all old skool legends real diamond people.

 

Too right, always like a old skool legend, she tells me. I agree with that. Then she asks me where they all live and how she can get on to them? It a bit freaky, me cock's already hard though.

 

Fucking freak alert rings in me brain, what the fuck I said here, she’s a boiler - she going to go mentalist when she realises I’m bullshitting. What’s fucking going on with the 21st century? Everyone believes it. Fuckers need Google to tell them everything.

 

Well, she coos, licks her little lips, Maybe you can introduce me?

 

Sure I say. She can’t be for real, I’m probably never going to see her again thank fuck. That gets me thinking.

 

Soz babe, what’s your name again?

 

She creases up laughing, like proper stoner hysterics.

 

Fucking birds, man. She’s still cracking up, she can’t even light the zoot she’s laughing so hard. Fucking better watch it. I don’t like being laughed at, but there’s something about this bird. I can’t help it but I start laughing too. She’s probably already sussed I’m a fuckhead. Don't stop her sucking me cock, it springs up hard, she's licked the shaft before I even think how weird it is, she tongues me foreskin for an age, me cock rigid in fear. Will she chew it off, or drink it dry. I got to think of an exit strat!

 

You can stick your finger up me butt if you want, she reminds me.

 

I do love em loopy, but I’m sure I can lose her in that illegal warehouse later on, right?

 

GOOFER aka GOOFA

 

i no wot/ call me shit fingz I duntno wot they call me/ Im Gaz/ call me Goofa or Goofball. fuk! I duntno why, buncha fuckaz! I clok I can b a fuccd up spazz i fukin get it/but I can b smart for a mong fukhed./ i get down u got me off dat biike nickin rite? i shit wiv wurdz fukin h8 em fuk em wot juz4posh geeks fuk dat yeaaa me 2 bizzee getin real fukd cant fink wiv dis pc2, h8 pcs juz rinse em 4 choonz&porno. fuk it i givup wiv spelchekar im juz2thick i cant b fukd tbh!Me n me mate, we do some mental playazism shit!

Got sum fing we do wen we get all fuk up & feel dull like all fukin low& shit. We play fucc a loada chikz, but me & me m8 Trollo, yeah he's a fat geek fukhed, I'll say more about him, we r change up da rools. But we r drop it to like 14 year olds. Ezr now 4 us aint it/ Trollo films em for free/ finga poosee time tiny poon time fukin mental! Som dem crazee bitcchess sex tex Trollo dirty assed shit all day, at skool, n they just want a zoot or a line, sometimes a few pills or some mandy. Ezr dan sum psychorealgirlygirlneedy upskirt dicktease who's from Poshtown and wants to go Pissa Xprezz or some real propa posh nosha b4 a club.

I cant suss dat shit! Iz a fucka4sure I get it. I fuk up 2 much! I not a brite kinda fucka. I juz b me, I can only b me,I cant spell & I dont get propa PCs 2 well, I dont get LTs n smartfones, I always fukc em up bust em good. Wiv porn. Yo always up 4 poon!!!POOOOON!

Yo I am a bit fucckd as in well mental. I got a girl who real cool, a honey, wkd coksuk, she lets me chill a bit I get on it, we r always up 4 goin batshit. Love it!!!!!
Got propa up on it, juz fink I got 2 do a wordtypo ringdingting. I duno wot it iz, me soc worka tell me shit goes all serious!

I fink he'z a bit messd, like well fukd. Looks propa well stressed out. I dont dig dis shit!

got sum propa mental ideas

I juz dont get shit! No shit, i can't get sum fukr 2 wish i gota bit mor shkool, it fuk suks 2b a bit thick. Fucc it! me hed fryd2 shit fkrz!!!!

It dull fuckin long long long

Fucc! U piss in a bird b4?

I dig shit, no sum shitty shit, real fookin wicked shit! I might as well bop. Where 2? I cant fink 4 shit! Cant puke all day!

 

 

 

CLIVE

 

That's exactly what I'm thinking! I keep going on about pop-porno blogger and DJ Tiny McFuck. Him and his sister, Queenie, have moved into pornographic fashion design. They both went to some posh uni, too, a real uni not some polytechnic piece of shit. They still want to do the performance porn full on, for the posh model generation. It’s not about getting HIV tested, it’s about being spontaneous, up for getting fucked and competing with all those Eastern European ho’s with webcams. Tiny always tells me not to get emotional. I suppose he really is a businessman.

 

Fashion design? You got to be shitting, what the fuck!

They say it's not real work. I don't give a fuck, bores the pants off me. I know it'll get messy with the GHB if I meet with Tiny and Queenie. They're fuckers, mate! That when I see Vinny.

 

A boring cunt, old Vinny; he chats like, all I dahntna whassit abaht, like all faggy but a gang-fag out of some dodgy Brit flick, a real cunty fucker though. Look, I know I am a total cunt, I’ll sort you just buy us a breakfast, anything, fucking starving. Lend me 50p for a drink, I know a cafe, I’ll get the next breakfast. There will be more. Make it for next time, I am meant to be cutting into the big one. Wicked shit. You know, all hush. I can tell you, you’re all sound. Might be some plant work in for you too. We’ll see, you know the score. I’m still homeless innit. Me mum hates me now, hates that fucker Goofer, Kept running up too many fucking bills. Fucking hate money, but what the fuck can you do about that?

 

DJ HOG

 

Hear this for time. Great, so now you’re a poncing bum like me. Do you buy into everything you see and hear and run up crazy money? Or do you go to a few illegal raves in between the really wicked legal ones with decent line ups? Do I really want to be your mate anymore? I don’t know. Let’s see what we can blag together. Still zoning out to Earth Leakage Trip. Fucking wicked wig out, think Jerome Hill’s in the mix, I’m going g to crank it up. Hoping for some Blapps Posse too.

 

Lost me phone, well it around but I can’t be arsed to go on a missh and find the piece of shit, screen all cracked up anyway. Fuck it now. Keep trying to think where I can find people, fucking send an email out on Goofer’s cummy laptop and you hear fuck all back for a proper long time. Fucking trying to find people. Hear Bungle and Custard and Crisp in Ibiza now. Didn’t bother to tell me. They went to that Old Skool in the sun thing too, I don’t know if it called it now, but how the fuck do the fuckers I know afford it with all the fucking recreational chemicals they shovel all the fucking time? Must avoid eating and putting on the heating, or something!

 

Some random tells me Bungle’s inside. Or rehab. I can’t see Bungle doing rehab, he’ll be fine inside though. I can see him making up bullshit, how he found God stories and don’t do no shit no more to fuckers he owes little bits off. The real fuckers, he’s changed his identity moved a long way away. Proper fuck off business. I see dudes look like him all the fucking time.

 

I’m stuck with Goofer, fuck chilling with Clive, he’s turning into a zombie.

 

JODIE

 

Hog and Clive go get me some bread and milk, couple packs of Rizla. Said go to the fucking shop, like a mission for them. They keep going on about IC3’s birthday bash, they fucking remember that crystal fucking clear but can’t think for shit what milk to get.

 

Some fucker got them VIP tickets, but has done something dodgy with the payment so they’re stressing they’ll go through. They’re always brassic on the door, they can’t be fucked to have real cash. Scrimping away home-made shit, badly cut shit, the odd wicked piece of shit what blow every fuckers mind with some legit shit which just standard now. It all does the job fuck what it really is. Who gives a fuck? I can’t tell. You can’t tell if you’re not getting wicked marching powder all the time. Sometimes you allow it, something to fucking do, crown a pill, drop em, snort, snort. Fuck it! I do the lot and it ain’t fucked me or me kids up yet. Fucking bang on and loving it, having a toke. These fuckers are scare con as it ain’t bad. I don’t want to live till ninety, can’t afford it anyway. Fuck all that Tory bullshit. Fuck it all. I just want to live and fuck off, I ain’t putting me kids through it.

 

Fucking old dear’s doping me head in, pisshead childcare. Alf’s useless, he’s still inside. Fuck it all. I can’t be fucked. I hate it all. I think about fucking Hog long term but he ain’t that kind of dude. I can’t see him pushing a buggy, he’s too busy having it. He gets stress if he don’t rave for a week. Calls it losing his cool. I want to fuck him regular and be with him but he does me head in.

 

His ginger cock stinks too. I wash it but he’s a right Sweaty Betty. A crusty rusty. He’ll need delousing every time he comes back from some club. He wants me to go Raindance, I know it’s going to be wicked, it always is. Looking forward to Moondance on New Year’s Eve, going to be fucking mental.

 

I just go to him, Where’s this fucking milk’n’bread, you fucking dozy cunts?

They just laugh, they gone and got chatting to some random, talked about shit listen to some Kool and Origin, had a zoot, got wavy, zoned out, had a nap, signed on, then fucked off to some other mission for more gear then back here. Fuck 'em.

 

GOOFER aka GOOFA

 

getme dat hooch fukupshit boieeeeeeeeeeee!

Wot a week wot a fukin monsta fuk! I fukkerd lika fukkdupfukka juz real fukkdup2shit. Herd em call me Goofa or woteva I am Gaz dunt get why dem fuckaz call me Goofy goofa. Mite b Goo Fur, real fukd, all dem dudes I chill wiv!/yo it all cool 4 me, i juz ponce off em. I got2 put all dis in me statement i always get done or kickd outa sum club/fukin screwy u ask me! fuk it all

 

DJ HOG

 

Fuck, Mongo on the road? What part of the brain he in today. I look down, it's that demented midget Tiny McFuck. A proper crazy little fucker. He's level with me cock, that scares me a bit. He's a kinky midget fucker, this Tiny McFuck. We don't know his real name. He's meant to be a performance artist or some shit, he’s deejayed and done his porno performances at loads of places, all over the place. Always seems to have no money, but knows everyone and seems to get a lot of freebies, fuck knows how!

 

It's got to be all posh and a bit gay. I don't give a shit. I just want to know if I can make a bit on the side. Fucking standard ponce tricks. I feel all fuzzy like I'm meant to be somewhere. Where all these phones come from?

 

One of them rings, I don't recognise them. Telling me I'm late for me shift. Fuck tat. I went for a bath then I tell you me house turned into the death star. I just been sweating it out. Fuck that phone. I smashed it up and put it in a pasty that's been left in the fridge. I look in the corner, see a naked bird in one of those birdcage chairs. She's lost her bikini in the crowd and she looks proper fucked. She just wears big fluffy boots.

 

I don't know where the fuck I am. Everyone gives me a weird look. Like some communal flat, locks on the cupboards, maybe it's something I been committed too. I don't know. I need a smoke. I need a fucking shitload. Rushing me nuts off, they'll drop off in a bit I empty pockets. I find two pills, a crushed end of a zoot and a wrap of MD. I polish it all off straight away. I pick something sweaty off me arsecrack and it's a bag of bugle. It's been caned. I don't remember caning it. Fucking better not have set me back a nifty but then it ain't too bad for bash. I didn't get a nose bleed this time. Fuck it. Just for shits and giggles just for cheap jokes I prank call the local MP. I leave a real abusive message like real sick, I turn into Devil-Goat Man. I think they’ll hear me tugging one off on their machine. I stick some wicked mixes on though, loads of live freebies probably from old dat packs. They got Cybotron in the player, fucking banging.

 

GOOFER aka GOOFA

 

nok out trix fuka mix/i c shit lik diz loadsa tymes/ i duntno why i fink i'm fick like real dum i cant fink dis shit pc i got2 use/ Me croiden bruvva musky mite do sum time he can fukin hack it so i got2 say wot i fink went on/I duntno but i fink sum shit went on/ all litlefingz unda me word shit fuk wivme eyz fukin h8 ritin fukin posh shit4mugs fuk it/ineva c a book mai b i shud/ sum comix r sik & fukin funny2 init/Wel datz me! Goofer Goofball woteva dem fukaz call me! /mi reel sik day lik diz/ i get up stika joint in me gob/ grab anuva beer! Fucc feel lik a fucka! me girlf zonked4 time/ Zo'z poosee showin windows open poosee opens wiva stikkee finga/ wot a saucee ho/ sneekee fingaz/fukin lital brat cri fukin 2 urlee!anuva hummy nappi, juz got bak frm fabrick, i fukin humm love2 sweat like a crazeee fukka/can't moan2long brat aint mine tho i fucc his mum a lot! O yeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaa! Zo'z got mor hedshit than a hedfukka, fuccin bitch cant keep a dick outta her hot cunt& her gob/she real tight2, she had sum c sections/ she still pretty tight cuntwise/ had 3 kids man! luvva tight cunt/ me warty cok dribblin blood& cum juz finkin bout it/ everyday get fukin mash up fukin luv i fukin luvvvvvvvvvvvvvit!/4me life all bout gettin fukdup! I'z 21 time propa flyby init/ shud b finkin mor bt i dunt giva shitt/ il b a fukhed 4eva trus me! Luv it so much! get me beans facebooks smileys lovehearts juz 4 a brekkie washed down with sum bud/get me real bud sorted sum wkd SK!!!!! need anuva coksuk 2 get goin! /chuffchuffchuff look @ clok on mobe/sssssshiiiiiittttt i got2 sign on @ 1/ fukin pain/got2 b dun/ need2 b4 goin2 anuva rave/fukaz cant live on benz but fukin handy2 topup wot u get knockin shit out&woteva else u do/bin chillin juz zoned 2 xbox&toon network fukin cow&chiken all dat!fukin wiked/ look @ kids 4 a bit tell em 2 chill/ they fuk off out/ i mak sure i kno where/u kno wot momz it likke/ 2many fukd fukkaz 2day wot r sik & likke kidz lik propa ickle 1'z juz sik!fink dey cud wait til dem git2 13 14/ it ok 4 it yeaaaaa!i can b a cunt, git real peak, i aint siksik tho/fukaz shud sort it/kidz tellme goin2 Tallie's crib/Fuk fink it's nerby / i can't ask kidz dey fink im fick alredy!wikd ting went down, fukin real wiked juz rushin off me titz, real luvvd up/ still buzzin off AMC papa g bailey dugs ratpak slipmat bunta randall/all of dem/brokie&randall@ end 2 juz slay us, fukduppropa/dem bruvs r fukin wikd, juz sik real dark&n sik as lik fuk! I FUKIN LUV DEM FUKIN BRUVS! RAVEJUNGLE LUVHOUSE TING/ BEST OL SKOOLA EVA/ I TELL U! WE DON’T WANNA GO HOME!

 

MUSKY

 

I told Goofball, that fucking goofed up fucker to lie low. Fucking guy's trouble fucking up me vibe. I said I'd take him apart if he went loco with that shit. I'm moving kilos. It ain't nothing to me now. I got kees of this, kees of that. Fucking chumping, it ain’t quality, it’s all bashed up cut down. I'm eager to get into tons. Might get me more of the good shit. We all want to ton up!

 

That's when I start wearing a suit like Porkball and Konny Ken. Those bros think they're out of the fucking mob, I tell you. They ain't got so much as a parking ticket. They want to send their kids to private schools in leafy parts of London. Fuck them. If I go down, I fuck the lot up. I ain’t going down for shit either. Fuck, who wants to rehabilitate with a shitty McJob what pays you minimum wage and you been bringing a coupla thousand a day? Yeah, fuck that!

 

I just don't want Goofer pissing things up for me. He's fucking hot. I take out the gun. It's a converted flare gun I got off some crazy fucker me mum used to date. He was in some war, done some army shit before he lost it and got sectioned or whatever. I fucking put him in his place. Fucking dumb fucker. Never trust your country to help you when you lay your life down for it. I mean he had no good Russian connections or anything for gear. I was disappointed.

 

That's when I lost it. Don’t happen too often, I got ways of sorting it. I go to find that dick. Some bird keeps belling me. It's not Layla for a change. Fuck knows who. I feel like fucking some bitch up, anger ripples through me. Shivers down to me arse.

 

I get another call but ignore it. I'm brewing. It's getting peak, I know it's going to go off and I'll lose it. I just done two hundred quid on Crystal Meth. Fucking standard to me, fucking have it out. I don't sleep anyway. I'm up all night. Heart going like a timebomb. Dig Timebomb, whatta mad tune! I don't mind being a fucking night owl when I can keep the shit rolling. But fuck it. Easier not to work and wait for fuckers to come to you. I decide to cab it around that squat of a meeting place that Crisp Roll hangs around in. I got to find that dumb fuck.

 

He's probably giving it all away. And if some of those dopey loved up fuckers gave Goofer GHB or acid, he's going to be smashed to fuck. I fear this as I know that Goofer has no tolerance. He can't say no to anything, too. As long as he's poncing or knocking down the price, he's happy. He don't care about getting the bills. All he got to do is get the fucking money. Dumb fucker's usually too busy posing and blasting Where's My Money? Fucking total chump. This fucking inbred should be banned from ever thinking about becoming a criminal. He's fucking cell fodder. He clogs up the system, waste of fucking space. What he's fucking destined for?

 

I don't know why I thought he'd be cool, but I think I need a fucking twenty-four carat mug to take the blame when the fuzz catch up with me! Might happen, though I can't bribe them all. Yeah, the dumb fucker thinks I'm his mate when I'm setting the goofy retard up. Goofer has to drink some Jack Daniels before he goes out anywhere. He can't roll his zoots proper either, he's just full of shit trying to play the man. Always giving it some. Fuck his fucking poser mojo. It was so easy to manipulate him, like impressing a five year old with a new toy.

 

I gave him a couple of bills for delivering some snort to some students for me. Muppet. Easy pickings. I showed him the gun, he likes those toys. He knows he's daft but proper stupid people like Goofer should never go near guns. They'll use them over every little thing. All this disrespect shit is in his head. I get it too, gives me a right paranoid trip out but I think Fuck, I've been here before, don't proper lose it. I always do but luckily I just flip out when no fucker's paying attention. Goofer's a fucking retard, he can't do shit and he's not even clued up to what this shit is. What gets me going that the dumb fucker can't even get angry when it's got to be so obvious when most normal fuckers have a spidey-sense telling them that something hot going down, that don't work on Goofer. He's like fucking Grimlok. No shit. A weak even more retarded version. Who ponces gear twenty-four-fucking-seven

 

I call round for Crisp Roll. fucking posh boy poser promoter. He's a friend to everyone and everyone's a fucking friend. Well, he's more about the tunes and shit but I want to use his contacts to shift kilos of some funky shit. Got a few kilos of SK I need to shift too. All about the party mix for me. To me it's fuck all. Percy money, keeps me buying petrol when I'm not doing over cars.

 

Yeah, it's a cool vibe. I get up, don't really look at me reflection. I don't really like mirrors. I know I look tough, I look a fucking hard bastard like me old man. From fucking Croydon ain't I? Fucking old man comes from Morden originally but you know the score. I don't know much shit around here to be honest. I stay around Croydon but I'm all over. I went to see Uncle Dugs with Custard at some bar in maidenhead. Done a wicked set, Custard was off his face. He's loved up like Crisp. Fucking loves everyone, everyone's all cool to him. I can't say it enough. I fucking hate people. I hate most people, I don't see things that I see in me. I think I'm almost like a perfect dude. A proper bloke who knows what's what.

 

And I snort a shitload too. That's what I start doing when I'm at Crisp's. Crisp ain't there. He never goes there unless it's a fucking messy houseparty vibe after the club. He lives all over the fucking place with his other phoney promoter mates called Smiley, Speedy, Dex, Tammy, Bubba, or whatever. All fucking hippy kids, all into Japanese cartoons and happy hardcore. They're like fucking clones.

 

Yeah, Crisp's a messy fucker. He's making pornos on the sly too. I've seen two with this kinky Asian Afro bitch, other vibes too, I seen some footage that Goofer and Hog have played for me. I've seen her around with Custard and Konectif K, she doesn't talk to me. Fucking weirdos together. She's probably a dyke. I know Konectif's big in the moving game but he don't tell me shit, fucking paranoid fucker. He knows pigs, too. Hog says they're the best dealers you'll ever find.

 

Hog knows everyone too but he's full of shit. He ain't even that great in a mix for a DJ. He's a fucking waster like Goofer. And he known Goofer for time and think he's looking out for him? He only looks out for his own ginger dread hippy ass. He's a fucking flake but he might come in handy for me. Just knows some heavy people and he's been around places. Geography has no meaning to Hog. He sofa surfs around the whole country. Hog keeps telling me to listen to some coppers, they can't offer and do you, it against the law, so they're probably real deal dealers. That's Hog's rule. But who can you fucking trust? Hog still thinks it 2002, fucking fried fucker. He in another time, another planet.

 

Just as well, thinking about what Hog says about the fed. I always wanted to be a pig when I was a little kid. I wanted to be Dirty Harry. Odd thing was I started doing a lot of bugle at school. I started on fags then drinking then toking, the odd few pills, then doing bugle whenever. I'll still have a good toke now and again but it fuzzes me up and I just puke and black out. I know I can't think too great with coke, I'm just constantly thinking I’m like God or some kind of superhero chatting shit. But the buzz always the thing, fucking needed it. Fucking A!

 

And I was doing shit gear when I was at school, I know it. It's only a little better now, but with these fuckers I'm getting the good stuff. Crisp knocks me out a half-ounce of wicked cocaine, no fucking joke, it's was fucking devil's fire fuel, proper fucking marching powder, and I thought my heart, brain and cock might explode all at the same time. You just needed a little. Great snort. Dumb fuckers should have cut some of it down but Crisp goes on about quality control like some old Hippy straight out the corner in the old Four-One-Four.

 

Fucking bunch of old stoner pill-head proper acid fried hippies. Just fucking clueless, going with the flow, getting fucked on everything they can get. They got money too but you'd think they'd want to make shitloads? Just want to get fucked, why fuck around with gangs and heavies and shit. Fucking hopeless fuckers just don’t give a fuck, as long as they’re sorted forever. Crisp got a bit funny with me when I showed him me antique gun from Prague. I can't remember what type, I ain't some gun geek. I don't give a shit what gun I got, I just like firing the fuckers. Fucking lovely buzz! To think it's real and it got classed as toy! Fucking mental world, right? I got a wicked shooter and Crisp's all like Fuck dude, oh fuck, I hate it all!

 

Fucking super sharp shooter, that's me. He's a right posh dippy hippy fanny.

 

That's when Layla gets all funny. She's some weird bitch. She ponces too much. Met her through Crisp's mate, Clive. What a geek! The less said about that waster the better. Anyway, Layla's a bit frisky. I thought she just needed a good fuck. Custard Cream tells me she's a fucking bunny boiler nympho. That's a combo I like to fuck with. Well, when I go around to Crisp's place, a real shitty flat populated by randoms. None of them have seen him but Layla's there.

 

Thought you'd be at work, I go to her.

 

She laughs giving me that come on look again. Getting the old magic back. Maybe we'll be more than random fuck buddies, just alternating the one nighters. She don't mind a bit of the rough stuff too. She wants me to fuck her to Ruffstuff’s Controller tune. I respect a lady who likes to get proper physical. The first time we really got heavy I fucked her up her arse without a johnny. She took it, proper loving it. She then turns around after I pull out of her arse, me cock all slimy from blood and bits of shiny shit and cum and she starts sucking me cock. One of the best blowjobs I've had, to be fair. I was shocked she done it, proper gobbles up the cum and licked me cock as clean as a whistle. She could’ve been blowing on it for hours the amount of shit I'd snorted up after some wicked rave.

 

We always have good times after the rave, though I ain't really into it like they are. I just like staying in and snorting and going out and kicking up shit for a bit and then coming home to snort some more. I have the radio on, TV on low, I like to look at something, check the Faceache then make sure I got me business sorted for tomorrow. Sleep's for fucking losers and pass out fuckers who just can't hack it in this game.

 

We just been staring at each other for a bit. I've been thinking and Layla's been chatting about how she was going to go to work but something stopped her from going because she was too fucked from some rave she went to.

 

Yeah, Friction was there, AMC, Mampi Swift, Who else? Sure Hype was there. Bunter Slipmatt and Dugs blasting the full spectrum old skool vibes. Three Amigos pulling the full spectrum, Kenny and Fearless smashed it too. Yeah, loads fucking wicked vibes, Devious at the end really pulled it out the bag too. You should've gone!

 

I was doing me rounds, I tell her, racking up another line.

 

I can't go to work with eyes like this, she laughs, lighting a zoot. She rubs a bit of bugle off her large oily nose.

 

I suppose not, I laugh at her. She’s a fucking mare. She's got some shit dull as fuck office number which probably pays a little better than minimum wage. The last person you'd expect who might be into real rough sex and get all funny when you start doing what she does. She fucks around a lot. I reckon she's round here as she wants to try it on with Crisp. She probably wants a part in his porno pop video. The guy’s a fucking poser anyway.

 

I'll tell you, Musky, she goes, I'll tell you that I really came here as I wanted to ask Crisp to let me be in one of his films.

 

You filthy cunt, I knew it, I laugh.

 

Oi, don't call me that, you dirty cunt!

 

That cracks me up even more. Rah, a bird with fire.

 

You love it, don't you? I hissed at her.

 

I thought about fucking her there and then, her loose togs would just rip off, like all Black Caesar kind of vibes flash through me mind. But there were a few randoms still here with more coming and going, so some of them might be all turned on and watch. Fuck giving away freebies. Layla likes that sort of rough sudden forceful spontaneous sex that we started calling flash-raping. She’s got proper dark humour, sick sense of humour, but I fucking dig it and I know she’s just a ponce. Just like Trini. It's weird really as she never complains, the heat of the moment gets her.

 

We stare at each other again as Layla stubs out the zoot. She gives me those soap opera eyes. Like in shitty soaps when they stare at each other for too long and kiss, like they fall in love with everyone they see right? People in soaps must be nymphos. But soaps are posh kids ideas of what it like to be kinda full on n real. I think Layla gets all her ideas from soaps. I'm itching to give her a good old fashioned anger fuck right up her batty. Fucking tasty!

 

She sticks some Bunter on, reading me mind. Bunter's throwing out the hardcore classics on Kool, fucking almost forgot it was Monday.

 

You see that spazz Goofer? I ask Layla.

 

She shrugs and goes to me, Yeah, he was knocking some wicked pills out last night. He always has shit ones or really killer ones that stick you in AnE or the fucking morgue. Never just decent ones that do the fucking job. Yeah, he was so fucked last night, he just ended up giving shit away.

 

I fucking knew it, I'm going to kill the spazzed up fucker.

 

Layla laughs, enjoying it when I get angry.

 

I don't know what he’s like, do I? Layla goes.

 

I know she's trying to protect Goofer. Don't ask why! They all tolerate that spazz but they can't help him. He's beyond any kind of help he fucks up every easy good thing for him. Then I think maybe he takes the heat for them so they can do what the fuck they want. I haven't had any shut eye in over forty-eight hours. Maybe I'm tripping out.

 

Layla looks at me and says, You all cool?

 

Yeah, fine, Layla. There a cuppa round here?

 

There's fuck all here, but Roger over there has some wicked crystal meth. He's with this cool American dude called Shamus. He's so cute, so fit. He told me he's some acid wizard.

 

Sounds dull. Did you fuck him?

 

Not yet. Why you always say that?

 

Because I think we're getting it on. I don't know when I'll see you again, if you see Crisp or Goofer, tell them I'm looking for them too, yeah?

 

Sure babe. You want to hook up later? I got to get back to work. I told that bastard boss that I'm at the dentist.

 

Suck his cock and shut him up.

 

I already done that and his wife came in and wanted a threesome!

 

Shit no way? Really?

 

Yeah, I go around there for special evenings every now and then. They're like 50 or some shit but they fuck like mad, always getting sexed up and they like a bit of gear now and then.

 

Who fucking doesn't? I laugh. Rich or poor, always the way man. Got to have food, right!

 

You're a cock sometimes. It ain't like they're like you and think they’re some fucking Scarface of West Croydon.

 

Stop taking the piss, it's a proper business.

 

Yeah, if you want to go prison for time!

 

Why be small time and get conned all the time? Fuck that. You’ll hear that Musky don't get fucked around. I'm sick of being small time, I'm telling you. Fucking Year of the Boomerang for me, Layla. You'll be voting for me in the fucking future, trust. I'll be all respectable and shit, and no one will know I made it all from minting it in the bugle game! I got the skills to mix it with these weasel fuckers who run this shithole country!

 

Layla goes all quiet and shrugs.

 

What?

 

Don't think you're invincible, Musky. I don't want to lose you, too. You're a fucking mental fuck, you, right?

 

Yeah, I guess. You're fucking mental yourself.

 

Layla laughs wiping snot from her nose. I rack up some more lines for us. Then I got to get out of there, fucking full of drippy stoners. I tell Layla maybe we can hook up later. She wants me to take her to some posh restaurant in Belsize Park. Fuck it, I'm sure there's a Weng Wah there, I'll take her there.

 

In Belsize it looks all posh. And if you look all posh you're untouchable. All the dealers round there wear suits. Trust me, they ain't rocking it in trackies. Fucking smart - look like a lawyer and they'll never think you're a dealer. They might think you a bit of a pimp though if you bling up like a fucker straight out the US kinda vibe. All that homeboy pimp shit don’t go too well in some places, I can see that!

 

GOOFER aka GOOFA

 

glueeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!/fffffffffuccit!i aint rushin 2 poppchoonz/dis fukin shitt popp moozik!gunna mish2 anuva club git me wiked moozik old skool shit/ bak2old skool4me bruvva!reel hevee moozik/boomboomboom!hevee moozik/propa choonz2fuk u up!i luv aldat jungalltekno rufnek rufstuf tingz!git me sum mor benees pop&drop & sniffa lot& do a lota shotz!fukin bangin!yeaaaaaa!/clok me girl4 2nite/ juz soft poosie pull/kim bee/cool fukin name sounds like ardkor dj/ iz gaz itz all cool she's 14 juz bin 2 a wiked rave wiv me fukin bang on!sort anuva gee/big up md!md i luvu i fukin propa luvit!fukin sweet daze fukkaz!getin messi rave aint kikdoff/finkov QPR doin shit givme real fear dem fukaz/wish dem fukaz luvvd QPR lik me/fukaz juz luv ￡￡￡￡!fuk em/propa downa/ go2 kim 2 stay close2 me cuz i dont lik anuva old skool bruvva pervin on kim/she looks at me lik iz sum real cool fukka/neva ad it b4 & iz 21!/juz￡10 leff, fink i shud nok out sum mor shit, fukinno it/ rushin off me nutz, reel trippowiggoshit/kim looks all girly & git real tasty sweaty pussy/eat me somma dat/ tinytinyickle pussy hairs/ luv2licc it/ juz lik jd&pussy wikd gobbuzz kommbo eva in da wurld/ i fink iz droopeedogg/ dat custard dude liks tripz&shroomz/buns tons&eats hash2/sortz me sum wikd shit/ dots2 sum wikd blow/gunna cut dis shit down2nock out l8r/got sum shit frm chynnar4 mi mix!/fuk stil fukin droopy/kim dunt giva shit/i can b goofy/uhhuhuhhuh! lik we r wayting in Q 4 wkd rave/shotta's in/ all dem uncz cru/big tings u noz it!/ wot a real phat blojo in Q/kim always giva real phat coksuk like a propa porno ho! nuffin lik 14 year old gob on me dick!!!! fukinramjammin grip on kim/git kim's blu hair in me fingaz/push kim gob on me cok/ her mouth all OOOO/ tug kim hed all quik, git kim goin hard fasta/ real deep/ fuk danja/cum lookz lik heinz/ go off lika killa wale/fink kim's luvin it/chek kimz eyz roll /gagd lik fuk/ likkin cum off me shaft/ gobblegobblegobble, slurpslurpslurp, yo babe likitup likit up!luv er juz linkd her 2nite!fukin fukaz!/she look@ me/ i juz crakkd up lik a giggle luvvd up fukka all like stoned on cok! no joke boi she was propa cok buzzin/kim lifs smellee litl gash/a tinee cuntfrootpie/fukin luv it!get on it in a Q!hear ragga twins nu tune boom/luv dat tune/i fink we might get mukkifukki/fuk chill wiv musky snortin2 towie!fuk dat!kim say2me wot u doin fukka! iz lik so fukin sweet!doggin live!fukaz clok it on mobes juz me all smiley/kim slaps me/next2me drooopeedogg chillin al fukd maykin me fink weird shit/im pretty freakd by kids toonz/dat finn&jak fing fuks me rite up/so do ren&stimpee!booooooooo

snoteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

/in club moozik real mental/luv it/bass&drum up spine/cockhard/ tiny litl shitfart/fuk yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! go reel mentol fukin oodat mixin!boomboomboom!sk&weed taste real strong/bash buzz git in me cok/ clokin dat mix/has2 reel old skool don, flirtb2bnicky bm fukin havit out foooookazzzz, wikd poosieclort finny's there, kenny k&frosty on soon/fukin stayin 4 it/lookat kim pukin up in corna/kim all pukey like real trippin2/fukin scuritee dunt lik it/fuk em got fukin cleenaz!i luv it wen i go cunt crazy/see kim getin aggro/oooooome daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaze!pukd on sum poshbird's posh flats!posh bird prob goes out2 big raves2 pose on fukbook/ costalot but fukin bangin4real lik/ fukin geekbook ravaz 1 4 da fotowal dey fukin go! fuk dem! iz all smiley, sikov getin kikd outa me raves/fukin reel pizzpoor/it aint me bad clashin thru dat wikd bryan g set @ jaymania/drag kim away, kim hav mor shotz/ fuk dat shit mentool! lookin real pissd/fukit fukit all i tell her/ she wants to hav it out juz cant stop kim on 1! kim goz up2 poshbird goin dunt put yor heels on 4 a fukin rave beee-atch!iz laffin goin chill babe chill babe!feel lik i got me momz dog sk/wiked name 4 a dog, got a cat called aceed/ ppl fink I’z call it sid/ wot's a fukin sid?fukin weird havin fukd folks2 it aint2fukin bad prob nik loads shit off dem soft fukaz/sign on dis week/fink got sum gittar @ cash converta/not mine sum random i ponce off I no Clive/fukin mental rich kid bruvva fukin wiv cash2burn!fuk kim/messy ho/goin2keep on scorin!

 

KIM B

 

Hi peeps, I'm Kim B, I'm just getting on it like everyone else. I suppose it all official like? OK, here's the real start. I can't be fucked to delete that bit. It shows I'm real and not a machine. I hate PCz anyway, like mobiles more. I end up deleting programmes on PCz, they scare the shit out of me, I ain't inta them!

 

I'm Kim Bletchwood, I'm still at school for a bit, until my GCSEs are done. Feels like waiting forever! My mum works at the chemist and does a bit of work as a nursery nurse. I was thinking on it but I get bored by kids, they a bit dull I do reckon they're a teeny bit cute tho! Me dad left us time ago when me and Kev, my big bro, were well young like. Not babies but like well proper young, I was still in2 barbies ffs! Fuck me! I had a odd time! I don't really get on wid me fam, they okay I suppose.

 

Kev's me bro, he's a right geek. He's in2geek shit like computers and lives near Brick Lane. He's doing good for himself, dressing like a geek poof, soft boat shoes, tight little jeans, blazers and those really annoying geeky specs. Me mum thinks he's gay. All the people he knows are blokes. Some of his mates are well fit. They have 2 be gay. I think back and I never did find any of his pornos. He never had pornos. He had computer books and pix of men, like scientists and britpop queerz on the wall! Exactly! Kev didn't come out with us when I said I'd be round near him. He doesn't like my taste in men.

 

Well, me boyf Gaz told me 2do it, he tells me whats what and tells me what's going down, I haven'y a clue about what's going on where. But he's not2 clued up either. As he's always getting into fights in clubs, or whereva. He gets barred& kicked out a lot, for just being really messy and being a fucking loon. He's a right freek but he's 21 so he's got 2 b sick getin kicked outa places all the time when u've paid. I usually get paid 4 & blagged in, as I'm only 16. Gaz, me boyf, I only met him thru Facebook we known each other on it4 time!Totes miffed, it's 1st time we met like 4 real! Gaz's well para rekonz pigs r afta him. I tell him he ain't a big dealer his pills r a bit hit&miss& fuck u up sumtimes. His bash is shit too, he don't know much for a 21 year old. He's a bit of a kid really.

 

Gaz takes me to some club, real banging. Fucking wicked as I really dig the music. I could get inta it 4 like proper. Beats doing some shit. But I hear it's a well who you know kinda gig. Whole fuckin world's like it, ain't it?So Gaz gets a bit horny, he makes me suck his smeggy little prick. I don't mind this time, I need to practice and I ain't got any cash to pay him for the smoke, bugle and the pills we been doing all day. He's been waiting for a blowjob in the queue for a while.

 

I put him out of his misery, he gets a bit rough. We get into the club somehow after a load of randoms filmed me giving him head. Yeah, I should've thought on about that. I won't get any image rights will I? Anyway, after a few shots I'm feeling it, Gaz gets some wicked mandy and we're off it, I can't think what's going on, though I ain't mixing alcohol and MDMA again.

 

I puke over some posh birds heels. I get a bit lairy then do a bit more mandy and I'm hugging her, kissing her with pukey breath at the end of the night. We both had it out. Been a wicked night, saw some crazy DJs, wish I could remember their names. Real banging. I can't find Gaz, he's always scoring. He doesn't enjoy himself. But then I suppose if you want to do a lot then you got to keep scoring.

 

Yeah, I don't have anymore cash for shit now. I need Gaz to help me , but I can't find him. His mate comes up to me. He shows me the footage of me giving Gaz a blowjob.

 

Goofer's got a tiny cock, ain't he? He goes to me.

 

I laugh, I don't know what to say at first, I'm too busy laughing.

 

It's all cool, I don't like them real big. They fucking hurt, I says.

 

His mate just laughs at it, shakes his head. A real weird mate!

 

Who are you? I go to him.

 

He tells me his name, but it sounds weird. Then he tells me to call him Musky. Fucking odd name.

 

He's all full of it, he's got a skinhead, looks well pumped up and tough. He says he's got a lot of bugle if I'm interested.

 

I nod and say, Sure, but I prefer mandy. I think it's a better than sniff. Snorting's a rich man's thing, right?

 

Musky laughs and tells me: You got more sense than Goofer. Yeah, he's probably at A&E now. Fucker gets kicked out all the time, got to fucking babysit him.

 

Oh, I kinda slur. It's all I can think to say. What else can I fucking say? Not like I know Gaz very well either. I wonder why he keeps calling him Goofer?

 

Musky then offers me a few lines. We snort it all up off the back of his credit card. It actually ain't bad shit, it definitely ain't bashed gear and gets the back of my throat, makes me feel a tingly and then the rush hits me. It's better than shitty bash. No wonder it's so fucking expensive. I'll save myself a bomb sticking to MD and weed.

 

Fuck Goofer off, babe. Come back with me!

 

OK, Musky, I agree.

 

I honestly feel like he's doing some Jedi Mind trick shit on me. He's smooth for a fucking psycho. I don't even know his real name. He tells me he's massive in Croydon, he's part of some crew called the W.C.M.C. Sounds like a toilet! No MC would call themselves that! And it ain't the best name for a crew. Wonder what it stands for? Ill google it in a bit. I did giggle a bit though, but I just hold it back before I burst out laughing in his face. It was tough not to really laugh my fucking ass off right in his face. Musky looks at me for a bit. I'm hoping he thinks I'm impressed.

 

Musky leads me into the bogs, takes my thong off and whips his cock out, slamming me up against the cubicle wall. I've seen this on TV somewhere, it gets me horny just thinking about it. We start fucking. He's got a huge fat cock, it real tough for me. He stuffs it in me. He whispers to me that my pussy's so tight it's like going anal. I don't like arse play too much. I don't think I've had a cock that big before. Grunting as if he's playing some sport. He's thrusting well hard. I then feel a rush, I'm coming up again.

 

That's when Musky pulls his cock out of me and looks at all the blood everywhere. I'm not joking there's a load of blood coming out of my pussy. Musky looks horrified.

 

What the...? Musky mumbles. He looks like he's going to faint.

 

I don't know, must be my monthly, Musky, I tell him.

 

He don't look so tough now. Frightened of blood. Always the wide boy types. He's puking his guts up. His puke runs along the lino of the nightclub bogs and mixes with the pool of blood. I search my handbag for a tampon. It might struggle with this. I don't know if I should have a aspirin on top of some MD. I grab some tissue. I'm sure I say: Musky, are you OK, babe?

 

Musky shakes his head. I got to ask him, I don't know where the fuck I am.

 

Can you give me a lift home?

 

He looks shocked, then nods. I hand some tissues as he wipes a chunky bit of carrot off the side of his face. I think I might be falling in love.

 

Part Three: Keep on Ravin', Kiddo!

EMILY

 

18th June

I suppose I am a bit suicidal. I'm not going online to chat about it all over and over again, it's too heavy and people get things the wrong way. Then you start getting abused and shit. Fuck all of it. Some real fucked up people out there, too. I don't really know what to do with my life. Been thinking about getting dressed up again for another rave! I don't know, do I? I'mbang on! I'm rocking a pink and blonde bob at the moment, real old skool. Love all the fancy dress stuff too. I reckon my current style might be called out there! Very futuristic, I know that for sure. Girls give you some proper evils, pumped up blokes always think you're a dyke.

 

I've been getting into a lot of the Raindance and Moondance vibe, one love no hassles at those raves. Slipmatt, Billy ‘Daniel’ Bunter, Nicky Blackmarket, Kenny Ken, Frosty, Congo Natty, Niki Dimensions, Dougal, Remarc, Vibes, Top Buzz, Randall, Isotonik Crew, Doc Gatchet, Ellis Dee, Brockie, Devious, Krome and Time, Rat Pack, all of those legends. I have to write everything down as my therapist told me to do this so I can find a coping strategy. I put on some old skool tunes, mixed by Hog, a bit of Man Machine mixed into Shamen’s Human NRG.

 

I try to lose myself in the mix, Hog isn’t a professional mixer - he seems to be still learning his craft. Or lack of it. But there’s no fault in his taste of tunes. I think I could do what Hog does. There doesn’t seem to be too many girl DJs out there. Like Lisa Pin Up, Lisa Lashes, Nancy Noise, DJ Rap, Icandy, Rebekah, Doctor Rubinstein, Psibindi,Scar, Rachel Vega, Lady V Dubz, Miss Special K. Got to catch more of Dizzy Blonde, Bonny Blaze Sista Matic, all cool. Think there’s Liz-E and Dushi but I think they’re more producers than actual DJs, haven't caught there sets like young Loraine James.

 

And I’m thinking all this as I don't really like my father's plans for me, but I suppose he's the one who pays all my bills. The tight poof. I can’t take any more of Hog’s dodgy mixing and click onto Billy Bunter’s Soundcloud for a professional mix. I’ll check them all out in a bit, but Hog just tries to rip off Bunter’s set lists half the time anyway. I still can’t stop worrying about my dad. Time to get hammered.

 

I count out some smileys and a couple of sweat damaged super stars and drop them with a bottle of vodka. I have to have a bottle of vodka every morning. I’m not some kind of non-functioning alcoholic and don’t drink it all, but it comes in handy having a stash of vodka before going to a club. Doesn’t fuck your taste buds up like Jack Daniels or some other fashionable spirit. I then hunt around for that half ounce Custard left for me. He’s always got weed though his pills can be hit and miss, I don’t think he really cares. One guy who specialises in having fun, will take anything.

 

His pills are either really powerful and they trip you out and fuck you up or they’re just granny pills and you need loads of them throughout the night.

 

He seems to accept it. He doesn’t mind and get all macho like some of the others. He told me he’s more of a toker at heart and just does a shitload of pills as and when he can get them in bulk. Never any good just having a couple on you, he tells me. Wise words from a total fuckhead. I never thought I would end up thinking of him as more than a friend, considering he must think of me as really fucking posh and minted.

 

24th June

I’ve been out of it for a couple of days. I feel like I'm always getting in the way. And I bet he doesn't want his parliamentary colleagues knowing about my ill behaviours. I crush up some old Valium and mix it in with my cheap white rum. Out of vodka. He says he had issues when he heard about Straw's son and some other MPs son getting into trouble. I still laugh when Blair's kid got busted for being pissed, made him seem more human though. Like Cameron looking a posh dick on TV. Just nice but dim Dave. I can't believe a word any of them say, even BoJo's a total shit shower but we all knew it'd end like that. Gives people who are loaded and posh a bad name. They naturally think they are above everything and completely vain about their historical legacies. But it hasn't hurt his business either -- politricking the world! My father wouldn't find it funny, he'd probably pass out. My dull father also has no idea what I get up to. I down the Valium cocktail. But I want more.

 

I say to him, Daddy, do you mind paying off five thou for me, and I'll go back to uni and become some kind of artist!

 

It’s all bullshit, I think he must have some idea. I’ve got to be real expert in bullshit. I’ve heard it all and said it all before. He doesn't realise I just done a shitload of bugle, bought some crack and MDMA just for the fuck of it. Sometimes I'll get in a few gees of skag, but that's just now and again.

 

Or I say to my daft old man, I want to be a physiotherapist or reflexologist, something really Mickey Mouse but with a scientific sounding name, and he always falls for it. The guilty muppet secretly hates me. I'm a burden to him. He is just trying to contain me so I do not hurt his precious career and business interests. I will learn to support myself, but I need to tap his guilt a bit more first.

 

He always agrees with me, don't ask why! I get the certificate or I find an excuse not to get it, nothing comes of it and I start the cycle over again. How many people blow 10 grand at a weekend on their old man’s credit card and it all gets laughed off? It's all worthless. I reckon I could get a shit job.

 

I was a waitress for a bit and a care assistant for about two weeks. Too much shit, literally! Thank fuck it was a placement thing. Maybe I will just go back to it, just to shock him. Like working in some shitty office thing. I just end up getting all these qualifications, they mean nothing.

 

I don't really do much with them, I've just got to pass them and I get the qualification. Don’t think you can do much with them anyway. The pass marks are very low. It doesn't bother me as I do not intend to use any of it. I've got loads of these things. I'm like an education collector. My father must be annoyed I can't seem to make my mind up and just do something. Anything, other than actress/model or journalist for obvious reasons. It might seriously harm his soul-destroying career.

 

And I don't ever stick with anything for too long. I don't intend to follow him into politics. I'm not a hypocrite, so I don't really fit the criteria. My mother was never really in the picture as she left my father when I was younger. My father never remarried, and I think he might be a fifties style closet queer. My mother lives somewhere in Texas. That's enough about me, I really hate my family but I'm not afraid to talk about it. Until it gets too depressing.

 

5th July

Been out raving, just lost so much time. I got all wigged out thinking of my mum, lezzed up with some gorgeous raver, must have been forty-plus but still looked so young, at Labrynth. Don’t know why I keep thinking of my whore mum, I don't plan to see my mum, as she has never planned to see me. I think she enjoys her own life and she's a selfish person – like me, really. I met a singer been on Planet Mu for twenty years, regrets not having kids but who really cares?

 

My mum's probably a right bitch now. I can see where I get it from, but any woman who disowns their child for some dubious "artistic" career has to be a bit crazy. Surely just don't have any fucking kids, right? My mother went to the USA to do porn and glamour modelling. She was having an affair with some forgotten pop soft rocker with a shaggy perm and pristine teeth, zero talent. I have no idea if they’re still together.

 

My father has buried it quite blatantly and spelt out that she doesn't do it any more. He probably knows all her works though. I don't know if I have little half-brothers and sisters out there. I just don't care these days.

 

My lowest ebb came when I had a crush on this waster calling himself DJ Hog. Just because you give out a few flyers and play your CD collection at a tiny pub/club place, doesn't make you a real DJ, but according to Hog, it actually does. He'd even chat shit over the breakdown. I think his real name's Sebastian, or Jeremy, and I think he went to the same school as Julian, my first ever boyfriend. Julian's bisexual now and travelling all over South America with his swinging jet-set gay pals. I don't know why I liked him, I can't tell.

 

Hog's so random, too. He's pretty ugly with crusty ginger dreadlocks. He isn't a particularly nice person; polluted himself by thinking he is actually of the underclass, though he seemed to get nicer the more time you spent with him. And the more substances you got for him.

 

Must have been the mandy and that wicked weed! I always had a good idea he was being nice because he wanted Jodie to notice him. They all want Jodie to notice them.

 

Jodie didn't really notice him, as she doesn't really like him and wasn't that impressed by his dull DJ stories. How he got sneezed on by Nicky Blackmarket; how Kenny Ken brushed past him at the bar he plays records at. Roni Size stared at him once. Usually it's a cross between the real and unreal. Hog usually names a club, then only he recognises Moose chilling somewhere, or Fearless has stepped onto the dancefloor, right next to him, Det on the other side of him. Though you can never see them, people always give him fantasy drugs for free. No fucker gets shit for free, that's what I've found out. There's always a payback, even if it's you're turn to buy the risky random untested shit off some random, it's the fact you all want to get loaded that unites you.

 

Hog always has some story how he was raving with all this rave royalty, but it's probably all bullshit. I don't know what to believe when I talk to DJ Hog. I noticed that every time Jodie went near him, he drooled over her. It didn't piss me off too much, but I was a bit gutted. Jodie's pretty easy going, so she will probably end up fucking him.

 

She's not really a matey mate. I don't know how I know her, we just met up at a few raves and liked the same things. Jodie seems trapped in a real tough situation. Hog seemed a bit scared of her ex, he's some mental coke fiend who can't help getting busted all the time. He’s inside, so Hog’s just para. This psycho sounds like one of the incapables, like Hog’s mate Goofer.

 

This time, Jodie's ex doing a proper stretch as they say. Real porridge, sounds so thick. What’s to be proud about that? I suppose a ditzy girl from Dulwich cannot be street enough to figure it. It’s all so senseless. I cannot believe how backward the British justice system can be. Locking up people for profiteering on illegal substances is hypocritical, but they have to link it with other things to justify the incarceration. Some of these people are deeply unstable though, like Jodie’s thick ex.

 

They talk about prison as if it's a pre-paid holiday and a chance to get more contacts, a break from the real world of struggling to eek out food and pay all the bills. Some give it the talk but are frightened to go down for a shit score, whereas some can’t cope without it.

 

I don't know what to think it of it. Anyway, Jodie's pretty generous sorting me out. We have a really good time. She's always getting me gees, and I have even met her kids.

 

Right little brats she's got though. Demanding whiny gamer loving brats. Proper puts you off having kids! Watching porno on their mobiles, trying to nick anything out of your bag all the time, asking you for fags and to get them shitty cider. They're fucking terrors! I can't judge as I know I am a brat. I get what I want and play at being a Daddy's girl when I hate his fucking queer guts. But I don't remember being that bad when I was that young. Maybe I was, I really don't know what to think no more.

 

Jodie's kids, I've already forgotten their names, but they get left with her poor mum when Jodie's out clubbing. I don't know how Pat - Jodie's mum, I should say - can put up with it. She's a bit of a piss artist so she doesn't really go out, she just gets pissed and chain smokes to the telly, once the kids go to sleep. If they ever go to sleep, playing games in their room. I'd be bored out of my mind doing that.

 

23rd July.

Had a mental one, really good, it was just bliss. I love these secret warehouse raves, they're so banging. Coming down to some Marley Marl mix, I just don't want to stop. Love Prism, I'm really getting all that. I was proper off my tits as normal, really loving it. Beats real life anyway. Hog didn'twant to drop Captain Rock, what a raver snob! Amazed by how many older ravers keep on raving these days. Sure they may sit down for a bit longer, but they're fucking there, having it out with us all. I'm saying that as I went to one of the most mental warehouse raves I've ever been too.

 

Serious, it has to be like going back in time. I saw Custard Cream there, loving the Buntersaurus Madchester set. He gave me a ticket to the Chili Peppers for today, too. Doesn't want anything for it, he got it for free apparently. He’s talking about taking me to see the Stone Roses soon. Don't ask how, he always gets stuff like that for free. I bet he just says it’s for free. But he might just know someone in promotions. I’ve got to get more connected I don’t know anyone apart from posh dykes at art school and random timid flakes from various unis, theatres, art galleries and stuff. I can’t really be fucked to keep in contact with everyone these days. It’s almost a full time job, just keeping in touch and making sure you’ve paid all your bills.

 

Custard's pretty mental though and he’s cool when I don’t contact him every 5 minutes. The vibes were mental, all kinds of tunes, I was one with him in the music, in the mood, get all teary and goosebumpy just thinking of it. Acid Soldier might be our tune. Though we were one during Tidal Wave, too, not to mention Splash's Babylon. I was chewing his mouth off during Frequency, got to get that Hallucinate mix.

 

I blagged him a lot and sucked his cock in a portaloo - bit too risky to fuck in them, like, if it rocks and tips over - and people waiting outside can really kick off too! But it was all weed hazed, E and 2CB loved up spacetime, time stops but it flies. Well weird. He licked the sweat off my face and we just started kissing and hugging. He wasn’t shouting ACIEEEEEEEEEED all the time, like his fat mate. His one was BOOYA, like Pam Grier. Though I didn’t mind that, either! I know it sounds corny, but it really was beautiful. I was so happy, I started crying and he licked my tears up, mixing with our sweat. I think we're starting something, I don't know what. He's the only one who really cares for me.

 

I'll probably just cab it Knebworth, I don't give a fuck about the price. Money has just lost all meaning to me, even more when the world's so fucked up. I made a massive donation to a load of charities the other day, just for the fuck of it and just to piss my father off. I should have gone to that sex circus thing too. Sometimes there's never enough time to do fuck all. My mind's still in fucked up space!

 

Started coming down, blacked out, woke up on the sofa, I seem to have lost my clothes. I masturbate for a couple of hours, using my favourite rabbit and a glass dildo from Mexico. Really needed it, I haven't really got it on with anyone for a while since I had a thing with Clive. Maybe Custard will be up for it, I don't know. He’s pretty complicated which suits me. I don’t mind if he has a girlfriend and couple of kids. I’m cool.

 

After my morning of total masturbation, I shower fingering myself in the lather and toying with the showerhead. I then think about some food. I hate food really but respect the fact I must eat something. I decide to make some kinda dinner shake.

 

It can’t be too healthy despite it being marketed as healthy. I might eat again later, but I've done a few lines already and my appetite fades quickly. I might have a bag of Doritos though. After my tenth fag of the morning, I roll a tampon like joint and smoke it very slowly. At least I'll end up eating something yummy later.

 

CUSTARD CREAM

 

I stare at the gun, I don't do any of that. Fuck, I'm scared of violence. I got kicked around as a kid. By me dad. And his dad. That's going to fuck anyone up for life. I don't dig shitty vibes. And I never go dirty, not on someone who hates me guts. When you done enough acid, pills, mandy, shrooms and toke a shitload of red string Thai weed like me you learn to love the world and thank fuck for surviving your last mash up session. I spoke to Psiko Nikkrz. She's an art-pop DJ chick. She sucks me cock on Fridays. Don't ask why. She thinks I'm some kinda artist, too. I don't do fuck all art, arts for poshos, I just mooch around Walthamstow.

 

Fucking crazy, like clockwork don’t ask why. I usually lock into Clockwork while she’s sucking me cock, the messy bessy bashy Thursday then into Clockwork then Dugs on Friday. I think we done some mental trips together, they were real relics like some dodgy homemade more synthetic GHB vibes – sure, we were so mash up we kind of formed a bond.

 

Not a band, I don’t make those mistakes, anything creative proper stressful! I just remember us hugging together in a field as it was raining. She had shitloads of drone, too. Going to get proper lost in the jungle, need to find the weed!

 

Looking back, I think it was just Scratchwood. Right after the rave at thingy. Why we go straight to Scratchwoods? Random fuckedupness! We spent a couple of days in a travel lodge fucking and doing a lot of drugs playing Slipmatt and Billy Bunter full blast all day. Looking forward to catching them all with Dugs and the rest of the dons, too.

 

Yeah, I think I’m tripping. There’s no gun. Musky smiles at me. He’s cleaning his shotgun, like he’s stroking a cock. I’m sure this dude’s got issues He does another fat line and takes a slurp of his Jack Daniels. Jack Daniels and Cherryade, he goes to me. Like a fucking kid.

 

You don’t speak much, Musky tells me.

 

I nod. I can’t be fucked with this shit. It’s too hot. I know Musky knows gangs and shit. He’s got a lot of mates too. Thing being I decided to stay clear of that and just be a user. Be a fuckhead. Be someone who just goes with the flow. A total fuckhead loser. No fuckin' hassles, always go in peace then bless the poor!

 

Some artist vibe that gives off. No wonder Psiko Nikkrz wants to let do some work on her next album. I blagged her EP. I done it all on the computer, I got Reason off Hog. Thank fuck for that and that other one I started on before it crashed. Yeah, they taught me a lot. I was thinking of nicking Bungle’s battered Roland synths. Bungle and Roland, man, makes me laugh. I think Hog’s got a Korg somewhere too. Fucking old skool.

 

But this gun thing, Musky definitely has a gun. I still tripping. Got so many good vibes in me head and to be honest, this too fucked for me. I decide to speak like a half-ass yardie to Musky. I don’t want to say too much to this fucker. I know him through Hog and I can’t trust him as far as I can throw a bag of crack to me crackhead mother. Yeah, vibes flow. I need some more tunes. I was thinking of the King of Jungle EP though cool with newer vibes, as Ragga Twins Killa Sound blasts through me mind – real underrated for sure!

 

Musky laughs, he does another fat line. I do a line from my own shit. I ain’t touching his bash. I got some crushed pills. Prefer to snort that than some harsh bash, nosebleed powder. Some pills are weird these days. Being a loser I’ll never know what I’m getting but fuck it, might as well give it all a whirl. There’s so much to get high on that’s what I love about life. I think I got a real addictive soul, don’t ask why. I think it’s because I love vibes and peace and I really hate stress and shit. Kids stress me out, raving does not.

 

I’m elevating like I don’t know. I never really had a real job, I got four kids with three different women. I don’t know how. We’re all fuckheads, I guess. But the bash thing has to be the real joke. Musky’s big in the cut down game. He’s got various levels of his product. That’s when he’s not doing it.

 

Hog told me that Porkball and Ken wanted to speak to Musky. Porkball’s a G. He’s a pig too. He’s quitting or getting the sack. One or the other, but Porkball is the best dealer I know. His shit is mental. He can get anything. That’s why I’m here, trying to figure how this Musky fucker from Croydon breezes around and tries to buy us off with his shit bash. He’s looking for investment into his habit but also what he wants to move: shitloads of iffy gear every day.

 

Musky ain’t a raver, he likes to stay in and snort to the football or some shitty movie or a soap. He don’t give a fuck about the vibe, he don’t even know Original Nuttah. He’s a plastic, he just looks glum, like he’s missed out on something. He’s there, like he’s doing right in front of me, chain-snorting off the back a card and chain-smoking. He must have the heart of a killer whale, he don’t stop hoovering it up!

 

CLIVE

 

I’m spying on Custard and Emily. I thought there was something going on. I don’t really get jealous but I know Emily’s a rich kid. I wouldn’t mind poncing off her too. Everyone’s going to be fighting for her. I bet she can make a call and get a real good job as some posh PA for some big company or some director or producer. She’s all young and connected. I feel pissed off I ain’t with her now. I want to get away from Layla and her psycho bitch mates. I don’t know why I didn’t get it on with her from the start. She liked me but sussed me out.

 

I wasn’t true with her. I sit outside her doorstep smoking a huge skunk spliff, killing ants on the ground. Fucking warm and bored. I get a half stiffy and think about fucking Emily again. I did treat her like shit. She don’t really get back to me. She has loads of rich mates too. Who turn out to be people she doesn’t really like. She’ll go, oh Rosemarie, her old man’s a diplomat in Mombasa, she beat me to the prize! What fucking prize? Some dull artsy award? I can’t even remember. Fuck if I care. It’s all bullshit. Awards just help to sell things, I tell her. Why you think they created the fucking Oscars?

 

She smiles at me and tells me I’m thick. I shrug it off as normal. But it’s important to the connected classes to get on. They feel if they see people who are also there social class they should be doing more than them having some residency somewhere, be corporate funded, have an agent. It’s all shit. I can’t be fucked talking to her about it to be honest with you. She can chat some shit, fucking jeez geezer! Why don’t you stop all the posh shit!

 

I got to admit, it’s a love and hate thing. Too much hate turns into love. I’m curious about posh people. She did tell me her dad’s a politician but she told me to guess who. I ain’t a clue. She thought it funny. I still haven’t a clue.

 

ALF

 

I was going crazy, just stared at Roni Size, smiling a real wide scary smile, just so high, just really wanted to hug the legend but he probably wasn't cool with it. Such a sound bloke, yeah, I just stared at him. He knew I was proper fucked, he chatted to some other dude and walked towards the bar to get a beer after a wicked set. Proper smashed it up. He's a living legend. Listened to him when I was younger, when he was just breaking through, but I never caught him live in the mix. To busy being an angry cokehead and pissed up fucker to care.

 

I should say I'm Alf or Jodie's crazy ex as they all call me. I look at the kids and think Shit, I missed all this crazy fun, kid’s growing, changing all that shit. It's well fun when you’re off your nut just watching the kids kick off. It must be so good to be young again. Gives me energy. Jodie looks fucked. She doesn't talk to me no more, we don't have much in common, though the vibe gets nasty. Me and Jodie go way back. I know her when she dropped out of school, still got her train tracks. Fuck, always getting things caught in those braces. We just got on. I'm a fair bit older than all of them. I think Jodie was sixteen when I met her. And I know I didn't pop her cherry, she'd banged more people than me. Birds included. She was pretty open minded. I must've fucked five birds after clubs, just one night things when I was younger. Only had two long term girlfriends both of them were fucking crazy cunts and couldn't put up with me either. It was a love hate thing. Kept getting crabs off one bitch from Stevenage. Then I fucked some ho in the Dam after doing a shitload of shrooms. Last time I do them.

 

Yeah, Jodie just got pregnant so quick. I was working in a shitty warehouse, still living at home. My flash car was second hand, on credit. Not many fuckers get credit for Mazdas, or whatever it was. I can't even remember, I had to shift it as I couldn't pay it all off. I was snorting a lot more then. Just drinking a lot and snorting a shitload. I tell you, I really fucking caned it. Jodie loved it, probably thought I was a dealer with the amount of bugle I went through but I was just bang on.

 

We stopped going out as much as I just wanted to stay in and snort up. We first went to raves all the time, me getting Jodie in on the sly as she was still young, like still at school young. Yeah, it looked weird, I would've been almost thirty or something. It's pretty wrong, but what can you do when you got a fit school girl bird well into you? You're having it, she's having it. We all fucking bang on! I guess I wanted to chill a bit more. And I couldn't be fucked to keep paying out for all these pricey events

 

Some of these raves were a bit random, I usually fell out with at least one bouncer and there's always some funny cunt at the bar who can't handle being touched or having his personal space invaded. Fucking fuckers should wear hula hoops around them. It used to be a chilled vibe, then the whole dress code thing filtered back in and I just couldn't be fucked to look all dapper after work, too much fucking effort when you’re going to get pissed on, puked on, drink spilt on you at some point and the old classic of cherry burns. That didn’t just suddenly stop with the smoking ban but people still sparked up, it's a really pointless law. Look at fucking exhausts, any diesel vehicle is basically killing as you walk past it, but that’s a good thing for the government because that's acceptable.

 

But I suppose that's politics, proper pointless. I just wanted to get on it. I was buying a decent product, towards the end, before I went back in for my long stretch for possession with intent to supply, I was getting some a bit bashed up. It was getting stressy. I was getting annoyed I wasn't getting the decent cut no more. Fucking typical, isn't it? Get you hooked then you’re stuck with loads of bash. Everywhere, every fucker with a hood was a dealer, they all had the same bash to knock out as you. Some add lime, some Lidocaine, some added talc, the old powdered milk, glucose or baby powders. Some were daft and added too much and some clueless fuckers still added baking soda. It's fucked when you get that horrid taste. Either way, they all fuck your nose up.

 

I can get out of my pram on coke and booze. I've battered people, I've been inside, I seem to be inside more than outside. I ain't proud of it but it a lot easier than being outside, that for sure. I ain't pleased about busting up that guys legs. He seemed a sound bloke, even if he was called Crisp. Fucking all these yuppie posers, or pretend rich kid losers. They make my blood boil.

 

He treated me Jodie all good though, I'm pleased she got with a sound bloke and not one of those other random fuckers. I don't even know them, to be honest. I don't like Jodie's posh mate Emily, but they're her mates I guess, whatever that means today. Jodie said Emily introduced her to them all. I don't like them, I ain't racist but a lot of ethnics there too, I can't always speak to them too great.

 

Saying it, they all thought I was a bit too hot. They didn't want to be near me in case I got arrested again. I lose it so often I get arrested for beating up randoms at the offy, or in some pub. I don't know why I lose it. I don't want to be a fucking psycho cunt no more. It just fucks up everything but maybe I just had enough doing the bullshit right thing routine and I go, I JUST WANT TO GO TO A FUCKING CELL TO COOL DOWN!

 

I can't get sorted no more and I know they got connections. Jodie knows posh kids always know some scummy fucker who will still sell to them if they on a fucking drip. Even that so-called hard man, Muzz or Musk, I don't know why they got stupid names. Like names out of some 80s film. Fucking Dragnet, ain't it? Anyway, they ain't all there and they probably think the Matrix has to be real. No shit, they don’t quite live on the same world.

 

They ain't all white either. Gets me a bit para, I got battered by some massive black dude inside. Fucking proper savaged. Just pleased he didn't bumrush me. His cock was bigger than me arm, it was a fucking elephant's trunk, no joke!

 

Anyway, none didn't want anything to do with me. Looked fucking tough but probably knew what a ugly fucker I am! I gone through a lot of fights. Got light brown longish hair, I can't be fucked to trim up. I got stubble. I'm white with a ratty face and long coke blocked nose. Across the cheek, a long scar. It makes you look tough, makes people think twice before starting shit with you. I don't mind, I got to get a bit more chilled. I started toking a bit more to help me with all the bugle I do.

 

I think I'm a psycho. It was while watching my kids play some trippy online game, that's what made me think I got to change. I flip out a lot. I got to be a psychofucker. It was a shock coming around your ex-girlfriend’s place and discovering her in bed with some toned up rich kid who’s just a bit younger than you. Turned out he was a proper hippy and didn't want to fight. Too easy to beat to be honest. Fairplay to him, he didn't go hospital straight away. Until he tried to walk. I did feel bad, he was a right state. I don't get why he didn't try to protect himself. He must be too fucked. Jodie said he was buzzing off mandy, I wouldn't get to know because I never been that happy. Puffing didn’t even make me happy, just dwell on shit and get angry. They keep saying that some people just shouldn’t do it, fucking THC at the end of the day, ain’t it?

 

I thought he would have had more energy and start eating me, like that Frankie Boyle thing. Fucking love that, always crease up at that shit. Fucking wicked. Jodie just told me that I was getting mixed up with PCP. I didn't even know could get decent PCP over here. We don't really talk much these days. She doesn't like me no more, but she tolerates me, knows she needs me around for the kids. Fucking glorified childcare. Though she probably thinks I will flip and do some crazy shit, drag the kids into it all. I wouldn’t no fucking way. I ain’t going to take it out on the kids no matter how much of a cunt she gets, chipping off out after work, leaving me to get bored. She talks a bit of small talk and I have asked her if there's a chance of us getting back together.

 

Our chat went something like:

 

ALF [In horny coked up hard dick mode. Hoping for a tired, proper sloppy, blowjob at the very least!] So babe, sorry Jodie, I'll stop calling you babe soon, I keep forgetting.

 

JODIE [In pure cunt mode] You fucking cunt, you know what you're doing! CUNT!

 

ALF [Fucked up coked up cunt mode brewing] We might get back on track, ain't always been a cunt? Have I?

 

A raw silence and JODIE giggles a little then laughs right in the face of ALF. Thank fuck there's no shitty Britpop poser soundtrack.

 

JODIE [Still in pure Queen of Cunts mode, squares up] IN Y'FUCKIN' DREAMS, Y'FUCKIN' CUNT!

 

Ages ago I would've lost it like, really hit her, proper gone for her – she always gives it back, reckon she loves it really, but I got to end it there, I am not that dude no more.

 

I tried to go on about the kids and all these different fellas she likes, but she says she wants to stay single and just have casual things. I just chatted real fast about other shit as if it hadn’t happened. It got painful for me. I don’t cry, I just start mumbling and getting all twitchy. That’s a problem. And I know I'm the jealous type. Got to be me pride, kinda old fashioned.

 

I never got with the hippy thing. She'll be going clubbing forever. I think that's her idea. If she gets someone to chill with her, I bet she'll met some swinger and they'll have some open thing. Might go sour. I couldn't do with that. I got a feeling she might go lesbo again. She won't come out out, she's too fearful of what other people will think.

 

Pat, her old dear, will disown her if she started going around kissing her bird friend like all normal. Her posh mate looks like a lesbo with her short hair and her shitty Jap toon porno clothes. I call her the Dy-kini. She’s a dyke who always wears bikini tops, like she’s always coming back from a rave or going to another one. Could be chucking it down, but Boat party style all the fucking time. Don’t you sleep, I asked her one time. Sleep? What the fuck’s that? Proper laughed at me, but I ain't in rehab every time I go mental at the weekend!

 

Any bird who dresses a bit like a bloke and mixes it with a bikini has to get you thinking. She’s not too hot, though I would fuck her if really desperate. I am, but she probably needs it more than me. It's a shit look, don’t you think? It's been done to death sometime around '91.Though to be honest, I'm still hoping to get at least a blow job off one of them. I need more sexual healing, I think my dick’s going to fly off and explode, and if I wank again I’ll get sore wrists. I’m going at it with both hands these days!

 

I'm going to have to try and find that brothel again near where my mum lives. Only bit of gash I had since getting out of the slammer was some Serbian whore from Cricklewood and a drunk MILF with a 70s style bush around Kilburn way, after having a proper Kilburn pub crawl. Ain't cheap to drink there no more, that's for sure!

 

TRIPPY ZIPPY

 

I got to tell you about me mate. Bungle Bob’s his name. His name’s really just Bob something. He’s a big fat black dude with a huge afro. He’s probably me best mate, I think he’s a real cool guy. Him and Custard Cream, though I’m getting to know some other randoms too now. They’re all sounder than sound. We call him Bungle Bob because he’s always fucking up and being clumsy like Bungle. I call him The Bungler sometimes too as he’s a fucking messy fuck up. He makes the most simple things turn into proper missions. Talk about stress. He’s not as camp as Bungle though! He’s always been like it, a total Bungler, always off his nut but he somehow lucks out and has it out. Getting even more off his fat tits!

 

Sometimes, he don’t always have it out, and has to stop raving for a bit because he’s busy being a fucking clumsy Bungle. It ain’t no racist thing by the way. Bungle Bob calls me Zippy as I look like a smiley faced muppet. I got Japanese blood in me too, so I don’t take it as a Chink reference. Sometimes he calls me Zipz or Zippo, as when he first met me in a chilled out club terrace, where we dropped some acid, I had somehow ended up with a load of lighters from random people. I was so fucked, I don’t know how I nicked all those lighters.

 

Bungle’s a total fuckhead just like me. He don’t care if he stays in and gets high, or hits a club and gets proper mashed! He prefers to get out there and dance his fat tits off, I reckon. He loves to work his fat out! He’s a fucking mental dude, known him for a while now. He’s a sound bloke, got a family, got a shit job, he’s real chilled out about it. Wish I could be like it, but I'm not. Sure, Bungle Bob’s still a proper cunt and he’s always sleeping around, banging random birds he hooks up with in clubs and at skagged up house parties. He’s got a thing for single mums with a few issues. Don’t ask why. He even asks me along if they're up for a threesome.

 

The weird vibe being has to be he has lost it, proper lost it these days. He just wants to get out. Thing being, Bob got so fucked on some wicked MDMA and drinking Jack all night long, he fell off a podium and fucked his ankle up. Doctors gave him a load of shit for it. Bungle’s been mixing his shit for a while, so he loved it. Cocktail pharming time, fuckers! It fucks you up over time, ping between pharma n gear, it really makes you feel like shit.

 

Bungle likes the prescription on top of his daily intake of whatever he can get his hands on. Sometimes it’s skag. Sometimes MDMA. Sometimes crack. He even gets some freaky acid. He’s a laugh on his crutches, tripping like a proper motherfucker. Always scores a lot of weed.

 

Need to smoke. Nothing wrong with a bit of a toke. I mean, I toke all the fucking time. I do everything. I take some shrooms to Bob. He seems to be pissed nothing’s going on. I phoned around to get a few people round to see him. Custard Cream has taken that Emily bird to Ibiza, and I think Clive’s spending time up north with his new dull boffin bird, I think her name’s Kirsty.

 

And the rest? I don’t really know Jodie, I try to keep away from her as I heard what her ex done to Crisp Roll. I really liked that flash dude, shame some aggro cunt has to fuck them up. I don’t know Layla, Clive's ex, she sounds fucking mental. Bungle Bob already told me Kherri Candi’s back in rehab again, like that’s going to work. Fuck knows. I don’t know. Trollo’s messed, sounds like a proper perve. Best to stay clear of Goofer and Trollo, they’re hotter than hot and Goofer’s well thick. Konectif Ken’s just vanished, so has Musky and Porkball. One minute they’re everywhere, next minute they’re gone.

 

Who cares where, I’m just bothered about scoring. It’s crazy but there’s always jokers with the right people. I ain’t connected, I don’t have a fucking clue. I just get whatever I can get, fuck quality control these days. I’d love it to get back up there, quality wise, 1988 vibes. If I had control over quality, the world would be fucking banging, shit would be legal, nepotism would be illegal and maybe we can sort out some other, more egalitarian, model of capitalism, if one can exist in any democracy. Like make everyone rich in some form of frenzied utopian capitalist democracy. It would really open shit up. Who would think in the future, being a millionaire might be seen as hard-up? But at least no fucker will starve!

 

Bungle Bob has to be proper connected. At least I can find the fucker now he’s crocked. Finds it tough to ghost away from me at a rave when you got crutches to worry about. If it was me, I’d dig out some box sets and leave it until I heal up. But not Bungle, he’s a rave addict. I don’t know, I think I am but I got to be feeling cool to. Though I still go when I’ve got a stinking cold as I’ve paid for the fucking ticket and they don’t give your money back if you’re feeling a bit rough, do they?

 

Usually I end up getting so fucked, I lose the fucker in the rave. Any fucker, so I’m on me own. Always at the best raves, too. Look for a podium and Bungle Bob’s either with some rough birds, some fucked looking kids or the odd real fit bird that always gets freaked by Bungle Bob's hypnotic combination of truffle-shuffle Dad dancing and mental old skool moves. He does a mean one foot skank, so he should be sweet with crutches. Usually the fit bird, she’s gone on the podium to pose and to porn it up for her Facebook profile. Bungler’s on the podium to freak the DJs and to have it out like a proper sweaty animal. He’s got the energy for a fat dude.

 

He’s got to watch it, though. He’s got to be older than me, he remembers shit about loads of things from back in the day! Bungle’s got loads of people after him, too. He’s got a couple of birds after him, too. He can’t be doing with it. He doesn’t want to move back in with his mum, either. I know the feeling. Me folks got me evicted in the end, and I had to share Goofer’s sofa with his stinky dog. Dog farts are so rough, as in ruffruffwoof! They are fucking humming pieces of toxic shit smell. I don’t get dog farts. I still have mares over that dumb mutt.

 

Anyway, Bungle’s pissed off. He told me he read Spanish Highs once and just wished he was Wayne Anthony. He’s gutted, he don’t larry it. He wants to have it. And he might have to miss Carl Cox and Jon Rundell. He’s watching some music videos off the box.

 

His shitty TV only gets used now and again. He’s thinking of getting some gigantic flatscreen but ain’t got round to it. Fuck credit, right? Bungle smirks, watching some Tinie Tempah video.

 

The guy’s got the lyrical precision of some fucker reading an old Argos catalogue on Valium, Bungle Bob tells me.

 

I nod, trying not to get an argument started. I don’t think Tinie’s that bad. Bungle Bob always saw himself as a bit of a spitter of bars, in his day, though his complicated rhymes were a bit bizarre. He’s still a two shit spitter but he says anyone with a little talent can go a long way and get gigs. Build it slowly.

 

He’s got some fucked up humour, like Frankie Boyle. I think the key is doing it and making sense. Bungle Bob didn’t pass the sense test. I suppose he’s got a fair point, though. He goes to me that Tinie’s a bit of a chancer but not like Dizzee - school kids must think he fucked his way to fame. What a buttkissing sell out fucker! I ain’t queer but Tinie looks like some gay black porn star from the early 90s. Bet he’s already got enough footage of Tulisa, though. Tulisa’s my kinda lady, what a fox, she should get off the scummy coke set up. Bet it was decent shit too for 860 quid, not bad for thirteen grams!

 

I honestly think Tinie’s OK -- though he just needs to hook up with some decent production people and move away from all that pop stuff. I don’t mind most of them, they make good music, they can be sampled, they can be saved. Soon the money trip won’t mean so much to them, but they will evolve more, though I suppose it’s what sells they go with. These dudes should work with Doc Scott, 4hero, Goldie, Roni Size, Krust, Ed Rush, Optical and Grooverider, Slippers, Bunter, Dugs, all of them. Maybe Tinie can get mentored by Navigator. I mean, Tinie’s been twenty-two for about five years so I’m sure he’s not too old to be mentored by a proper legend.

 

Bungle’s on a roll. We drop some more pills, they look like Facebooks, but seem a bit soft, so they might be unknowns. I even liked those cheap Little Chefs. Wished he got some more of those wicked Wi-Fi’s when we were seeing Hixxy and Sharkey. Better than the random buzz from the unknowns he doled out in some tiny club called Kippers, I think. What a shit hole, what shit pills. Proper botched unknowns, they were weird, mash your memory, a creeping high, where’s me head at?

 

That’s what I call most botched pills. Unknowns. I rate Unknown by the way, though, don’t think he’s botched. Well gutted hear about Sparks, though. RIP. What a legend!

 

Yeah, I used to call dud pills unknown soldiers but no one fucking got it. And they don’t know how often the Doors get sampled, just like ELP, Pink Floyd, Stevie Wonder, James Brown, Curtis Mayfield and George Clinton. They get rinsed. Anyway, we drop them then we mix them with some chilled out codeine phosphate Bungle’s GP gave him. Might have to crack open the Tia in a bit and test some of that dodgy coke Bungle ticked off Musky before he vanished. Sure he got a half-ounce off him, Bungle’s thinking of downing some cough syrup again to make up for that German acid, definitely not acid. Nuff respect to Germans, they’re sick, they fucking have it out. Probably get high off photocopier toner!

 

I roll a joint then try to remember where I left that old acid. I’m sure I didn’t put it in his biscuit tin. I’m still going to see Coxy later, fuck it if Bob’s still sulking. He can chip by on his crutches. I just remember Spurs will be playing soon, they always get me fucking nervy. Bet Slipmatt’s biting his nails, too.

 

I stick on some Slipmatt mix, a proper hardcore mix, Vibelite 94, his birthday bash, just to get me in the mood and to stop me worrying about Spurs. Slipmatt always does the trick, it’s much easier watching Spurs to a Slipmatt soundtrack. Not just the classics, but stuff straight off his Soundcloud, I’m always rewinding the radio stuff, all the stuff he’s done with Bunter too.

 

Quality, and sometimes I’ll just play all his Facebook sessions, and catch him off Kool. I have my own Facebook session! That’s if I can score them. Fucking sick of fucking shoddy super stars!

 

Anyway, Bungle Bob gets off the phone to some bird.

 

She’s coming over, he tells me. He's looking fucked already. I reckon he's hiding some heavy legals too.

 

Who? I go, thinking he's got to be tripping out again.

 

Bungle laughs as if I should know.

 

You fucking know, fucking pointzentits?

 

What?

 

I have a feeling I’m meant to know this random bird.

 

Don’t worry she’s bringing her mate over too. Think she’s called Stella. I don’t know. Fucking chav happy, mate, we’re going to get some balls deep and a woodsuck before getting lashed.

 

Who are these fucking randoms?

You know, thingy and whatsherface? Where the fuck we meet them? Wasn’t Fabric was it? It was at Moondance, wasn’t it?

 

I don’t fucking know! Why the fuck you asking me, you fucking Bungler! They better not be munters again.

 

Mate, we dream of munters. We don’t care as long as they’re up for it. I’m sure we hooked up with them at Raindance, wasn’t it?

 

All I’m up for is getting wasted. I ate some shrooms earlier and my skin is doing that rotting dissolving thing. I keep looking at me hands, I’m laughing at getting freaked out. I done this shit too much.

 

You know it, mate. Yeah, Sonya’s probably rubbing her batty on some yuppie dick in Shoreditch. Might as well have it out mate, yeah? Stella’s on a plate for us!

 

Fuck off, man, she might be fucked in the head like that Layla bird! Stella? Who the fuck’s Stella? I don’t know any Stella, do I? I don’t fucking know, mate. What you saying about Sonya?

 

Sonya’s no angel, Zippz. Come on, don’t get all touchy with your old funksoulbro Bungle Bob. Mate, you saying Sonya’s a good girl?

 

I don’t fucking know. All I know is that Sonya’s in bed by fucking half three. She’s got a regime. She don’t fuck that up for anyone.

 

Oh yeah. I forgot Sonya’s just fucking odd. It’d be cool if she was a bit of dyke too, right?

 

The thought does turn me on a bit. Sonya is a bit dykey come to think of it. She don’t dress all glam, she’s a real chavved out babe.

 

I look at Bungle and just go, Look mate, I ain’t going to stop her flirting and having a good time. So what if she gets with some other fucker? It’s her life, I ain’t going to beat the fucker up, no way. I’ll be cool. She knows that. I’ve known Sonya for too long. We’re probably going to call it a day when it feels like a brother and sister vibe. That just gets creepy. But the sex is always wicked when it happens. That’s when she’s up for it. She works a lot, don’t she? I ain’t going to stop her seeing her mates and all that. And I don’t think her old man wants me round for much longer, fucking her career up. He thinks I’m a total waster.

 

You are, you stupid cunt! Fucking jokes, man, jooookessss!

 

I know, but he don’t know shit. I’ve told them tonnes of shit. Like I’m working on some cool art thing, the usual bullshit. I suppose you can’t be a real student still at thirty in his book. I think. I don’t know. All I used to do was stack shelves and I figured I would be better making out I’m ill and getting all the bens. My doc says I’m depressed anyway. Personally, I just think I’m a waster who loves getting wasted and taking a shitload of tricks.

 

Oh, yeah, that reminds me, Zippy, I got some wicked MD for you to try. I might be getting a lot of it so we can chill with it for a bit.

 

Always fucking samples with you, ain’t it?

 

Bungle laughs like some fucked up ogre. He laughs proper loud, I’m telling you!

 

Just for you, Zippz, just for you!

 

We get on it. Fucking wicked shit, already chew me face off, I can’t wait to hit the clubs now. Spurs are being well nervy again, it’s all too much. Like watching some melodrama. It’s never easy with Spurs.

 

Yeah, let’s go, let’s get fucking on it! I go to Bungle.

 

Moooooooooo, Bungle goes to me, sprays me in spittle.

 

Fucking nutter, I fucking love your vibe you fucked up fucker!

 

Bungle laughs like a proper demon and gives me a hug.

 

Then the doorbell goes. I stick on some Ragga Twins set with Navigator and Micky Finn from back in Mannheim, Germany from 1998. The same year as the Great Stevie Hyper D departed this Earth. Yeah, I dig out the Kenny Ken and Stevie in Toronto set too off the laptop. Fucking giving it to those dull Yanks and Mounties who can’t handle it at the time, what the fuck did they know? Jungle is a Brit thing. But some hardcore dudes over their dug it, you got LionDub, Visionary, LA, they would’ve dug it at that time for sure. Yeah, Stevie smashed it as usual. Just made Stevie even more of a legend. RIP Stevie.

 

Gets me all thinkey.I zone out thinking of what it must have been like to be there back in the day, I listen to all the tapes, there's only so much you can get it from them, the atmosphere sounds mental. Like proper going off. The legend lives on forever.

 

Get the fucking door, mate, Bungle says to me.

 

I pump the Ragga Twins set, Flinty, Deman, and Navigator all making more sense than any politician, fucking wicked.

 

Oi, Zippy, don’t fucking zone out yet, Bungle tells me. He hands me a Jack Daniels and I lurch towards the door, downing most of it by the time I open the door.

 

I open it to find some girls in too much make up. They got to be just sixteen or some shit. One of them had long blond hair, with streaks of pink going through it. She’s got a baseball cap on and a hoody bodywarmer with tight jeans and little converse. She got proper little feet. Yeah, her mate’s like black and she’s hot. She’s got a tiny top on with a littler leather raincoat thing and jeans and pointy boots. She’s also got pointy tits. I almost crack up laughing.

 

Who the fuck are you, pointy tits goes to me.

 

Er, that’s fucking funny. Yeah, come in, Bob’s inside.

 

Oh right, sure.

 

Oh yeah, call me Zippy.

 

They giggle. Just like school girls. It's getting too errie for me, I've been there before and I don't want to be called Jim'll Fix It on me manor.

You’re called Zippy? says Blondey.

 

Nah, me name’s Zac but they all call me Zippy. Am I smiling like a muppet yet? It always happens when I'm proper pilled up and well stoned.

 

They laugh some more. I think they're definitely up for it.

 

Her mate with Blond hair laughs a lot and says to me, You’re a proper joker mate, you’re jokes you are!

 

Yeah, jokes are all cool with me. I'm just one big walking joke.

 

We walk inside and I hand them some Jack Daniels.

 

Bob appears just dressed in some seaside town apron with huge jugs.

 

We all crack up. I kill a joint and spark up another, handing it to Blondey. She smiles chuffing it cautiously.

 

Pointy tits is still laughing and hugs up to Bungle Bob, they grind to the beat of the set. Micky devastating it all, fucking having it out proper, Lord have mercy!

 

Blondey hands the joint back to me, I take a big deep chuff and lob it at Bungle who laughs when the joint hits his fat arse.

 

You cheeky bastard, I was expecting a fifty at least!

 

In your dreams, I go, laughing. We all just getting real wavy and chatty, more drinks flow and Bungle hands around the Mandy, he’s got wraps galore. Fuckin' sweet as!

 

Bob, you’re dancing well with the crutch, I tell him. I think you got it licked. Just stay away from the podiums, dude! I add, just to rub it in a bit. Bungle loves the podiums. I can be a right cunt, I know!

 

He tells me, Yeah, I know, you cunt! I think I can still bust a one foot skank, though. Me rave foot will always help me!

 

As long as you got a foot!

 

Mate, I’m sure you’d wheel me there in a chair right?

 

Yeah, that might be the next rave if you’re not careful, mate! I laugh.

 

Then I add, just to show I can be cool and not a total cunt, and say to Bungle, hugging him, Seriously, just go easy, mate you know what it gets like when there’s loads of drink on the floor and it’s getting proper sweaty and all sticky. You know you’ll slip when you don’t expect it.

 

I’ll stand to the side a bit then.

 

And get crushed? You won’t, you’ll be in there mate, I know what you’re like.

 

Blondey picks up the joint off the floor and chuffs a bit more before handing it to Pointy tits.

 

Pointy then says to Bungle Bob, Where the fuck we going again?

 

Bob laughs, shrugging. He ain't got a clue. He riots and goes with the flow. He's fucking easy, just like me really. As long as it's proper banging he don't give a fuck. Nor do I!

 

Bungle makes a big thing to think. Like he can really remember. I think it’s in Brixton, Bungle goes.

 

I don't fucking know, I think it's there too. I ain't booked the tickets, I'm just hoping they're all sorted. Hate ticket missions on the door. Fucking nightmare, I goes to them all. They look at me a bit worried. They can see I'll freak if we don't hit a rave soon. I'm getting well in the mood. I think they are too.

 

I ain’t heard back from Crisp yet. Have you? Bungle goes to me, to break the mini-neg-out.

 

I chuff hard then roll another. Bungle's busy doing lines off the back of his hands. The only place that don't sweat too bad in a rave. He's getting some practice in. Jammy fucker. They use to have long nails in the 70s and all that. Now, fuck it, back of the hand don't sweat as much as your palm, it's cool to do a line off it.

 

As long as you're not getting constantly budged by some rammo jammo club fucker who walks into anything and everything. Then again, if you don’t expect a bit of it, stay at home and soil the Kleenex. You ain’t in the vibe if you don’t expect your foot to get trod on or someone trips into you. Can’t help that, part of the vibes, one love all the way for me. Smiley party people all the way, bring the wickedest vibes. I look at the girls, I think they're digging the set, they know it's banging. Just hope it don't freeze up as I ripped it.

 

Bungle Bob checks his battered Blackberry and says, Me and Crisp don’t really talk, I just know Custard Cream.

 

We start laughing, we’ll see that waster wonder soon enough. He’s always ghosting around most raves. What does he fucking do for a living? No one fucking knows.

 

Bungle Bob grabs me by the shoulder, handing me the rest of the MD.

 

I got lots more where it come from. Yeah, mate, I forgot to say that’s Sherry and that’s Katie.

 

Oh right.

 

Bob didn’t actually point them out, he just said their names. Blondey was dancing with Pointy, grinding with each other in a corny porn star lesbo kind of way.

 

Think we might get physical soon, right mate?

 

I pretend not to notice but Pointy tits has started to peel off her clothes.

 

Bungle's tongue already hanging out like mad, he's all goggle eyed. He's onto her like no tomorrow, hobbling up to her like some crocked methed up ogre from Middle Earth. I tell you, he don't care, he's lifted his apron out and got his fat cock out and started plugging her on the sofa. Me and Blondey laugh. She turns around and kisses me full on the lips real tenderly.

 

I'll go down on you, too, I say. Like what a fucking chat up line!

 

She smiles and pulls down me trackies and boxers and starts sucking on me cock, really rocking me pleasuredome with her luscious lips. It's alive, it does shit without checking with me. I chuff on the joint hoping the cherry don't fall off and burn the bell-end, so I stick it on the edge of the coke covered coffee table.

 

I have to say, she sucks me cock like a professional, delicately teasing it like some tender meat, licking the shaft and gently sucking on me foreskin. I think I'm going to blow. Shit it's only been a few minutes, but all of a sudden I don't come I just dribble loads of gooey clear fake cum shit over her face. She laughs.

 

You're dribbling, she goes.

You really got me babe, that's why. She laughs, I have to admit that was cheesy. I didn't expect to a kinks thing. It was the Kinks, right?

 

She's already taken off her gear and stuffs her thong in her coat pocket. She thrusts her cute crusty little pussy in me face. I give it a proper fat licking, then grab the bottle of JD and pour some down her gooey clit. That makes it really juicy! Didn't want no dry crusty fanny fest going on! I shouldn't really go down on her, me lips and gums been bleeding real bad, but she's up for it. Fuck it. Might be dead tomorrow innit?

 

I lick her cunt out something rotten. It's as if I'm gorging on one of the microwave rice pouches that fly out the fucking microwave in that ad. She's loving it. I'm just making sure no drop of Jack Daniels got wasted in that little pussy. I noticed a bit on the floor but I ain't that much of a pisshead to lick that up Homer Simpson styley.

 

I stick my thumb up her pussy and it's a bit tighter than the normal bird I go for, they've usually had a couple of kids and have cunts like buckets. I tell you, it loses the flow as the kids pop out. Tanya's pussy just like it. But she gets pussyphobia and don't always let me go down on her. She don't even like the smell of her own pussy. Me? I don't mind it. I don't give a fuck, as long as I’m getting some!!!

 

I keep going. I look over and see Bungle Bob fucking Pointy tits from behind. She's loving it, eyes all rolling. Her tits are proper pointy, you could poke your eye out on them. Bungle mentioned to me he knew a girl who had a botched boob job or some shit and her tits went all pointy as all the meds they stuck her on and they had to get the fuckers out and make them good as new. It was a tough op for her. I can't think why anyone would want to fuck around with their tits like that. Personally, I like real home-made porn. Made with real people, real bodies. Not all that fake plastic Yank shit. Save that for the teenagers. Fuck that!

 

Anyway, it's getting funky, we let the joints burn out and I noticed I had some bugle on me finger, it's stuck to her clit. I'm trying to lick the trail of bugle off her clit, it must have absorbed in. Gives me an idea and I scoop a bit more off the coffee table. Instead of doing it off the back me hand, I rub it into her clit like proper good.

 

Blondey fucking loves it like real made. Whoowhoo noises I love, I love it when you make people happy. I'm always up for Major Happy. Ravers unite! This is the life and one love to the karma police. For all the shit I do I never go out of my way to screw fuckers over. Fuck it, I'm a loser, I'm weak, but I like to get fucked and I want to live to see a lot more raves. I tell you, this is the fucking life even if I’m always fucking brassic!

 

I lick her pussy like mad, loving that bashed up bugle pussy. Buzzing me nuts off. My dick's going to burst like a head out of Scanners.

 

I ram me cock into her coked up cunt and Blondey's all like YeaaaaahwhoooooOhohoooh!

 

I think I got the trick. We bang for a while. It must have been a while because Bungle comes up to me., looking serious

 

He's all dressed.

 

Dude, stop, we got to go, we'll miss the rave, we'll spend most of the fucking night in the queue. Gonna be a fucking roadblock mate, telling yous!

 

Yeah, I forgot about the fucking queue. No one wants that. Should have spent a bit more and got a VIP ticket, sometimes it easier if you really getting fucked!

 

Knowing Custard he blagged the tickets but he only gets queue jumps sometimes. It's pricey too, so fuck knows how he does that shit.

 

Fuck it, I hate queuing these days. I'm getting on, I say to Bungle, I’ll stick to fucking whatsherface.

 

Fuck off mate, you're no way getting on. It's not like you're Ken, Crisp or Hog. I don't know what the score is. Yeah, Hog takes a bottle of Jack for the queue and an empty bottle to piss in and hands it to the bouncers, if they've taken too long getting them in. He's a fucking cheeky fucker. Hog does loads of funny shit like that.

 

I finally get me cock out of Blondey. Bungle smiles at her.

 

You cool, she goes to him.

 

Are you cool? Bungle purrs.

 

Yeah, I was getting, like, you know, like, sort of sore. I feel all funny down there. I use your bog?

 

Fuck yeah, just use it. It won't mind, it's a fucking bog! I think your mate's in the shower.

 

Again? She's like a fucking fish innit!

 

We crack up, as she stinks of it too. She trudges off to use the can and probably take a shower too.

 

Get ready, Bungle tells me. We might even get to give them some real facials. Might peek them in the shower lezzing it up.

 

We laugh at that, rolling a zoot and sparking up a phat zoot Bungle rolled earlier, racking up the lines. Bungle's checking his wraps of MDMA. He's got some fine stuff tucked away.

 

I'm all groggy and fucked. It's almost ten-thirty. Fuck, it's just flown by this time lark. Fucking time, fucking pisses me off.

 

Chill dude, Bungle tells me. Might as well just call a cab, we'll give them a spill. You know what I mean? Pretend you're going to puke, they stop to pull over and we all chip it. Fucking standard.

 

I smile, I had an idea Bungle would pull something that. When it gets that late, public transport always lets you down. It shouldn't take long to get there but something ain't running right or it's fucked. Always the weekends too. Fucking TFL need busting big time. What a con they are. Anyway, we can all chip for a cab, I ain't up for reborn Satanist Terrorist cab driver from Tooting! Giving us a lift to Brixton and threatening us with voodoo curses and huge machetes and his Gran's AK47. I can't be fucked with all that. No fucking way! I just like it wavy, real chilled. Nothing too peak. Fuck all that. I'm too fucked for it now.

 

 

Impressum

Texte: Al Calm
Cover: Al Calm
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 06.03.2015

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To those that know - we are different. The vibe will always survive! Keep giving it large to the dull chin-strokers and right-wing squares!