Abandon Hope.

Spent the last couple of weeks in an alcohol fueled haze.
What with the advance from the magazine deal, and another advance for my screenplay, I'm rolling in fucking cash, and soaking in cider!

There was a bidding war between 'Scat Monthly' and 'Poo Patrons Periodical' for my story, and 'Scat Monthly' won, and paid me a large wad of cash. So, now I have somewhere to live.
It's only a small room, newly decorated, and smelling of fresh shit. Somewhere to sit my unwiped arse, and lay my lice ridden head.

At the top of the house, there is a small kitchen, where the houses other occupants smoke crack, and make some new bird called Anya suck their cocks for beans on toast. She eats hungrily, with the beans glistening in the sun, and the toast dripping with cum. The concentration she puts into each bite, clear to see on her jutting out forehead.

Each night I've trekked back to the laneway, to gather up more of my belongings, and it was there that I discovered the body of a cripple that I had forgotten I had murdered. He had on a pair of boots that would have served me well last winter had I only remembered.

I never realised how much stuff I had robbed over my time in the laney laneway. Wallets, cameras, clothes, and even a chemical toilet. Why the fuck I nicked that I will never know, but, someone will no doubt find a use for it, so I think I'll fuck it through someones window later.

So, here I sit, alone at my lappy laptop, typing away my thoughty thoughts, and reading the many emee emails from my many fans, requesting letters and pictures of my turd producing skills, but alas, they now have to wait for the release of my book 'Abandoned to a life of shit', due for publication next may.

Well, I'm off out to get a new supply of cider, and to visit that old cunt with the dead dog . It's time I chinned the cunt again.