spunk jist faws oot. Eywis a chance mind, cause yir right up thum whin it skooshes oot. The next time wis doon Colinton Dell, up against the waw again, doon the tunnel, n the third wis in her bedroom whin wi took the eftirnoon oaf school. Yazed a rubber johnny thair but. We hud loads ay time, a whole packet, but ah jist did it the once cause ah wis telt thit it fucks up yir legs fir the trainin.
It’s barry sittin here in the hoose oan ma ain. Ah love Friday dinnertimes, comin hame n huvin the place tae masel. Rab at the school dinners, muh Ma n faither baith at work. It gies ye time tae think.
Maggie n her mate go away n Terry’s lorry drives off. Thir’s some wee first-year lassies gaun past now. Thir aw skinny, except one thit looks mair like a third year; tits n erse n aw that. Lookin at thum, ah starts tae feel a bit sorry fir the lassie. She’s really jist like her mates, ye kin see it in her eyes: a bairn like the rest ay thum. Cause she’s goat aw the paddin but, they’ll aw be gaun up tae her, dirty cunts like Terry n that, gaun phoah, gie’s a ride, touchin her up n aw that. Ah think that’s brutal. If ah hud a sister n any wanker tried that wi her, ah’d go n batter thir heid in.
Mibbe Terry thinks it’s like that wi me n Yvonne, cause she’s jist second year.
Drastic! Here she’s comin doon the road n aw. Her hair’s tied back in a pony tail, n she’s goat this skirt oan thit’s a good few inches above the knee.
She’s no croasin ower, which means she’s comin fir me. She must ken ah’m at hame, or mibbe she’s jist nipped roond oan the off chance. Brutal.
Ah could ride her now. In ma ain bed, a ride in ma ain bed.
Ye kin hear her footsteps comin up the stairs. Ah’m thinkin aboot her legs, how whin wir oan the stairs ah like tae stall behind, makin oot ah’m tiein ma lace, soas ah kin watch her gaun up.
The doorbell goes.
Ah’ve goat the match the morn’s mornin. Dinnae want ma legs fucked. They say a Dundee United scout might be thair.
It goes again.
Then the letterbox’s opened n ah kin hear her crouchin doon, lookin intae the lobby fir signs ay life.
It wid be good tae huv a ride up here, take the eftirnoon oaf. Ah dinnae want her tae think we’re gaun oot thegither but.
Aye, ah’ve goat fitba the morn.
Ah ignore it, n watch her gaun oot the stair n doon the road.
The Referee’s a Bastard
Ah’m movin oantae a crossfield baw fae Kenny and ah try n trap it, withoot killin the baw right. It runs oan a bit n thir’s a Fet boy gaun for it. We clatter intae each other n ah gits right up n he’s still oan the deck. The referee’s blown n gied a foul against me.
What a radge.
— Ye wir showin studs son, n no in ma game ye dinnae, eh squeaks at ays. — Goat that?
Ah walk away. It wis a fifty-fifty baw. That’s brutal.
— Goat that! eh repeats.
Ah’m nearly gaunny say that it wis a fifty-fifty baw but naw, ah’m no gaunny even talk tae a toss like that. These wankers think thit thir great, but thir jist auld nae-mates types that like tae order young boys around. Ye ken the sort. Ye jist ignore them, never speak tae them. They hate that. Like that wank Blackie at the school. That tossbag wis oot ay order yesterday, what eh did tae me, Carl n Gally. If eh’d’ve been caught by McDonald or Forbes it wid huv been him in trouble, no us. If they behaved wi anybody thir ain age like that they ken that they’d git a burst mooth, so they git involved wi the likes ay us tae make them feel aw big n smart.
Ye ken the type.
Anywey, the whistle goes again, n it’s over, we’ve cuffed them and we’re six points clear now, cause Salvy dinnae play until midweek. Back in the pavilion, ah’m dressin quick, cause it’s Hibs–Rangers the day n thir’s bound tae be a good atmosphere. Wir gaun battlin, that’s if naebody shites oot.
Whin ah gits oot ah sees ma brar Rab n ehs mates, still hingin aboot after the game. That big Alex is some size ay a boy fir tae be still at
It’s barry sittin here in the hoose oan ma ain. Ah love Friday dinnertimes, comin hame n huvin the place tae masel. Rab at the school dinners, muh Ma n faither baith at work. It gies ye time tae think.
Maggie n her mate go away n Terry’s lorry drives off. Thir’s some wee first-year lassies gaun past now. Thir aw skinny, except one thit looks mair like a third year; tits n erse n aw that. Lookin at thum, ah starts tae feel a bit sorry fir the lassie. She’s really jist like her mates, ye kin see it in her eyes: a bairn like the rest ay thum. Cause she’s goat aw the paddin but, they’ll aw be gaun up tae her, dirty cunts like Terry n that, gaun phoah, gie’s a ride, touchin her up n aw that. Ah think that’s brutal. If ah hud a sister n any wanker tried that wi her, ah’d go n batter thir heid in.
Mibbe Terry thinks it’s like that wi me n Yvonne, cause she’s jist second year.
Drastic! Here she’s comin doon the road n aw. Her hair’s tied back in a pony tail, n she’s goat this skirt oan thit’s a good few inches above the knee.
She’s no croasin ower, which means she’s comin fir me. She must ken ah’m at hame, or mibbe she’s jist nipped roond oan the off chance. Brutal.
Ah could ride her now. In ma ain bed, a ride in ma ain bed.
Ye kin hear her footsteps comin up the stairs. Ah’m thinkin aboot her legs, how whin wir oan the stairs ah like tae stall behind, makin oot ah’m tiein ma lace, soas ah kin watch her gaun up.
The doorbell goes.
Ah’ve goat the match the morn’s mornin. Dinnae want ma legs fucked. They say a Dundee United scout might be thair.
It goes again.
Then the letterbox’s opened n ah kin hear her crouchin doon, lookin intae the lobby fir signs ay life.
It wid be good tae huv a ride up here, take the eftirnoon oaf. Ah dinnae want her tae think we’re gaun oot thegither but.
Aye, ah’ve goat fitba the morn.
Ah ignore it, n watch her gaun oot the stair n doon the road.
The Referee’s a Bastard
Ah’m movin oantae a crossfield baw fae Kenny and ah try n trap it, withoot killin the baw right. It runs oan a bit n thir’s a Fet boy gaun for it. We clatter intae each other n ah gits right up n he’s still oan the deck. The referee’s blown n gied a foul against me.
What a radge.
— Ye wir showin studs son, n no in ma game ye dinnae, eh squeaks at ays. — Goat that?
Ah walk away. It wis a fifty-fifty baw. That’s brutal.
— Goat that! eh repeats.
Ah’m nearly gaunny say that it wis a fifty-fifty baw but naw, ah’m no gaunny even talk tae a toss like that. These wankers think thit thir great, but thir jist auld nae-mates types that like tae order young boys around. Ye ken the sort. Ye jist ignore them, never speak tae them. They hate that. Like that wank Blackie at the school. That tossbag wis oot ay order yesterday, what eh did tae me, Carl n Gally. If eh’d’ve been caught by McDonald or Forbes it wid huv been him in trouble, no us. If they behaved wi anybody thir ain age like that they ken that they’d git a burst mooth, so they git involved wi the likes ay us tae make them feel aw big n smart.
Ye ken the type.
Anywey, the whistle goes again, n it’s over, we’ve cuffed them and we’re six points clear now, cause Salvy dinnae play until midweek. Back in the pavilion, ah’m dressin quick, cause it’s Hibs–Rangers the day n thir’s bound tae be a good atmosphere. Wir gaun battlin, that’s if naebody shites oot.
Whin ah gits oot ah sees ma brar Rab n ehs mates, still hingin aboot after the game. That big Alex is some size ay a boy fir tae be still at
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