NOB ROT

I am sat in the back of a Nova SR. I am 14. I am wearing a back to front Kangol hat and a black puffa jacket. I’m also wearing a pair of jodhpurs but I have never ridden a horse in my whole life. I have boots on from River Island that are ‘suedette’ aka fake suede. They have chunky heels and I’m about 5’3” in them.

Two weeks ago I lightened my hair with ‘Sun-In’. It’s gone the same colour as ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.’ It’s down to my shoulders and curly. The roots are coming through but you can’t see them because of the Kangol hat.

On my face is concealer and powder from Boots 17. On my eye-sockets there is white eye shadow up to my eyebrows that I have plucked quite thin. I’ve also got smudgy black eyeliner on my top and bottom eyelids and loads of mascara on.

Hiya, I’m Louisa, it’s nice to meet you!

My mate Kelly is sat in the front as she is going out with Luke who’s got the Nova. He is 22. We’re going to Rochdale Town Hall car park which is where I’m meeting my boyfriend John-Paul. He is 20 and we’ve been going out for exactly 2 weeks. He is my first proper boyfriend. I love him so much.

We met at the Town Hall on 4th May 1996 at about half nine at night. I was just walking over to the bushes because I needed a wee. He was sat in his XR2i, staring right at me. He had a navy baseball cap on and must have been about to light a cig when he saw me because he had one in his mouth but it wasn’t lit. I just went and had a wee.

When I came back he was still there and he sort of, smirked as I walked past. He nodded his head for me to go over which I did. People say he is a psycho weirdo coz apparently he keeps a picture of Rose West in his fridge and he’s always alone. But I just thought, so what? He said, did I wanna go for a drive. Yeah, alright I said.

His car smelt dead nice of cigs mixed with red Magic Trees. He smokes Bensons and when he blows the smoke out he gets these dents in his cheeks that makes him look like a male model.

It felt well mint sitting in the front of JP’s car. In the boot he has this massive sub that makes your ribcage rattle and your eyes vibrate. As we drove off the car park I could tell everyone was staring because he went dead slow.

He didn’t turn the music down or speak to me, or anything. He just drove right up Manchester Road at 65mph. We went to the services off the A627M and he parked up where the lorry drivers stop. He leant over and said my name. I don’t know how he knew it. Then he kissed me. His lips were cold and so was his tongue. He tasted like mint and cigs. My mouth was warm. He cooled me down and I warmed him up. I pictured warmth running though him like red and blue running through me.

Since then we’ve seen each other loads and mostly we just drive around and listen to music and then park up and kiss and do other stuff. At first I was a bit nervous because I didn’t want him to touch me inside my knickers. I’d only been fingered once by Paul Blackley who later went and told everyone I had a tight fanny which was obviously really embarrassing. When that happened, Kelly said, don’t worry you’ll soon loosen up, Luke can get his fist inside me. But then all the lads call her bucket fanny so it seems like a bit of a no-win situation. I don’t really want to end up with a massive fanny.

Anyway, JP has been really sweet. He hasn’t said owt. I mean, he doesn’t really say much. He just stares at me with those eyes. His lashes remind me of a gentle animal. Sometimes I feel scared because we don’t talk, but the bass makes me feel okay. He always asks me if I’m hungry. If I say, yeah, a bit, we go to McDonalds and I get a Hot Apple Pie and he blows on it so I don’t burn my mouth.

Tonight I am going to his house. Tonight is the night we’re going to do it for the first time. On Monday, I told him I wanted to do it with him but I said I didn’t want to do it in the car or outside.

When Kelly lost hers to Carl Buckley she said he had dead bad nob rot and loads of warts. She sucked him off and they did it on the school field, then she had to go to Baillie Street medical centre and get the warts frozen off. I had to have a veruca frozen off my foot once and it killed. Imagine that on your fanny! No thanks.

I know that JP doesn’t have anything gross on his nob because every time we’ve seen each other I’ve given him a blow-job and it’s always been nice. I still can’t imagine what it must be like to have it inside me though.

***
‘Aw, he’s waiting for you Lou,’ says Kel.
My heart feels like someone’s just yanked it up to my throat. Luke laughs as he turns the tape over. It’s Dreamscape 10 with LTJ Bukem and MC Conrad: pretty nice atmospheric jungle and darkside hardcore.
‘I know’ I say, I can see his car. ‘Oi, Luke, mate, giz me tape back will you?’
Luke’s a fucker for nicking my tapes. He’s still got my Club Kinetic mix which I keep mithering him for. He chucks me Dreamscape 10 and Kel gets out so I can get out.
‘Good luck chicken’ she says and kisses me. Kelly’s lovely. She’s got loads of freckles and always smells of Vanilla Impulse. I wear White Musk.
‘Are you gonna come back out later?’
‘I dunno…maybe.’
‘Well, I’ll be out all night. I told my Mam I was kipping at yours. Come back here if it goes tits up, right?’
‘Yeah, alright.’ I give her our bezzie look and say see you to Luke.

JP’s going through his tapes when I open the Fiesta door. He’s straightening the tape out on one that’s been overplayed and gone crinkly. His last stereo kept chewing up his tapes so a lot of them are wrecked. He’s biting his bottom lip as always.

‘Hey’ I say through a grin. We’re both gurning like demics. He revs the engine and I burst out laughing.
‘Don’t laugh,’ he says, but he is smiling too.
‘Can I put a tape on?’ I ask, pulling Dreamscape 10 out of my pocket.
‘Go on then.’
I lean over and kiss him a nice kiss on his cheek as he sets off. His skin is so cool and he smells of Brut Aquatonic which is nicer than Lynx. I don’t like it when lads wear too much perfume. Luke wears Joop! For Men and it fucking reeks. It’s sickly sweet and gets stuck at the back of your throat.

‘Y’hungry?’ he asks me as we wait at the Asda lights.
‘Nah, I’m alright ta. Shall we just go straight to your Nan’s?’ JP lives with his Nan. He turns to face me really slowly and narrows his eyes.
‘Do you wanna?’
‘Yeah.’ I smile.
‘Alright.’
He pulls a U-E and we head back up past the Town Hall out towards Littleborough. It’s 8.30pm and the moors are getting shadowy. I love it how you can smell the grass and the trees. The air is so new and perfect. I wind the window right down, take my hat off and stick my head out.
‘WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!’ I yell and it makes my stomach feel funny and I can’t breathe. ‘Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!’
‘You’re a fuckin’ nut bar Louisa.’ He says. I like that. He always says I’m nutty or nuts, a fuckin’ nutter or a nut bar. And I’m not at all but I like it when he says it.
I’m excited about going to his house.
‘What about your Nan? Where’s she gonna be?’
‘She’s out.’
‘Where’s she gone?
‘Work’
‘Where does she work?’
‘What’s with all the questions?’
‘I’m just asking.’
‘She works in an old peoples’ home on Halifax Road.’
‘Oh right. How old is she?’
‘I don’t know. Not that old.’
“Right. Is she out all night then?’
‘Yeah.
‘Right.’
Well that’s good. Not that I have a problem with old people but I don’t really fancy chatting shit with his Nana.

We’re getting near the lake and the sky is the same blue as my school shirt. JP turns onto a street I’ve never been down. We get to the end of the road and he pulls up outside a house with steps going up to the front door. Next door is boarded up with loads of weeds and ivy everywhere. There’s a big conker tree out front too.

‘God, that’s creepy innit? Are you not scared sleeping next to that?’ I peer out of the window at the house. ‘It looks well haunted.’
‘It is.’
‘Aw, shut up.’ He’s winding me up.
‘I’ve never seen owt but you can sometimes hear someone crying late at night.’
‘JP, stop-it! Really? Have you?’
‘No, you dick. Course I haven’t. I’m winding you up. Come on.’

JP opens his door and gets out. I do the same. It’s gone cold. I push the lock down and go over to him. We kiss and he locks the car door. I follow him up the steps.

He opens the door and I follow him through to the living room. It’s cold and quite bare. There’s just a green couch and no chairs. On the coffee table there’s an ashtray and a mug with tea dregs in it. There is a TV/video, stereo and JP’s SNES. But there are no pictures on the walls and there aren’t any curtains. JP’s Nan must be pretty poor. No curtains seems weird.

I sit on the couch and JP picks up the remote. ‘Men Behaving Badly’ is on. I snuggle up to him and he puts his arm around me. It’s so cold. He pulls me on top of him and we kiss really passionately. He bites my lips quite hard and digs his fingers into my back. I like it.

We stop for a minute and stare at each other. I can’t weigh him up. His face looks so blank I don’t know what he might be thinking.
“What?” I say in a little voice.
“You’re a good girl aren’t you?” he says, his voice deeper.
“What do you mean?”
“Shift a sec.” I slouch to the side and he gets up. ‘Stay here and just wait for us a minute. Don’t move, right?’
‘Right.’
He leaves the room and runs upstairs two at a time. I sit there and just watch the TV. I hate that programme though and I’m so cold.

I might as well make us a brew. I get up and go into the kitchen. I don’t bother turning the light on. The kitchen’s small and bare. There’s a kettle though and a box of PG Tips on the side. I check the water level and flick the kettle on. There are two cups on the draining board. One with a flowery design and a ‘Wispa’ one. JP can have that one because it’s blue and he likes blue. I have flowers. We both have two sugars. I go to the fridge to get the milk out. There’s a ganja leaf sticker on the front and an old Sunkist hologram with a crocodile wearing shades. When I open it I see on the top shelf a pack of ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter!’ and a picture in a pink wooden frame. It’s a picture of Rose West. It’s that picture that was in the papers with her wearing daft glasses like Timmy Mallet.

Shit!
There’s no milk either.

I shut the door and feel a bit weird. Why has JP got a picture of Rose West in the fridge? It must be a wind-up.
“JP?” I shout out. No answer.
I head for the stairs, ‘JP!’ I’m laughing my head off. ‘John-Paul you freak!’ I laugh as I bound upstairs. I get to the top and fumble for the light switch. As the light goes on he grabs my hand and squeezes it hard. He’s got gloves on.
‘Aaaaagh, what are you doing?’ He is squeezing my hand so hard and bending it back to my wrist. ‘Aaagh, you’re hurting me, stop-it, you’re really hurting me.’ I look into his face. His face is the colour of mushrooms and he looks blank again. I try to prise his hand off mine with my other hand but he smacks me hard three times in the face.

It’s all hot and I can’t see. I feel something snap in my hand and a horrible sound. I’ve never felt so much pain. He lets go of my hand and shoves me on the floor. I crouch and hold my hand. What has he done? Blood drips off my face onto my hand. My mouth feels massive and my nose is throbbing and all spit and snot is dribbling out. I try and turn round but I can’t. He grabs my arms and yanks them around my back and then stands on my hands. I scream out. He sticks something in my mouth. I can’t breathe. My nose is all blocked up. He’s putting something around my neck. He’s putting something around my neck.

LOCAL WOMAN (57) IN VOLVO HORROR

Joyce (57) yanks the fitted sheet off the mattress for the second time today. She bought this one in the sale at Dunelm Mill, a local outlet which specialises in ‘luxury’ bedding. She normally saves the ‘good stuff’ for the classier customers or her husband (estranged) but the washer has packed in so… she has no choice.

Joyce hates changing the bedding. It’s a right pain in the 'backside'.

This afternoon she has to go for a ‘sexual MOT’. ‘MOT’ stands for Maximum Operating Temperature, which Joyce feels is pretty apt given the nature of her work.

This afternoon, the dreaded Richard is coming. Joyce sighs as she shoves twenty Berkley Reds into her plastic handbag. Richard is a little man with a pointy face. The tip of his nose is sharp and cold. Vinegar runs through his veins and semi erects his awful prick. Even that’s sharp. And vinegary.

Thirty years ago, Joyce had a ‘steamy love affair’ with a sailor from ‘down South.’ He had swarthy looks i.e a curled top lip, big ‘sideburns’ and very thick black hair.

This afternoon, on her way to a ‘routine smear test’, prior to an appointment with a miserable client, Joyce is thinking about that sailor’s top lip. She hasn’t done this for many, many years. She’s thinking about how she used to stroke the hair on the back of his head which was closely cut and soft, like an animal. She would nuzzle the back of his head here as he lay resting after their sex. Smelling sweet.

This afternoon, completely ‘out of character’ and lost in ‘girlish thoughts’, Joyce doesn’t look as she steps out into the road, into the path of a T reg Volvo estate.*

*which has just failed it’s MOT.

EXIT KNIGHT

On the Devon coast...

NARRATOR: The smell of the tomb,
copper in the womb,
He has a dagger, he stabs her balloon.

MAIDEN: Please don't sap my life blood you selfish sod!

KNIGHT: O lose some weight you unfortunate clod

MAIDEN: Why does thou make me feel like such utter shite?

KNIGHT: This be my way love (EXIT KNIGHT)

I Think We Need to have a Little Talk

Dear Cousin,

Forgive this tardy response to your beautifully drafted correspondence. Events in the Diocese of Salford have plucked me from my writing desk and thrust me into the fray they call romance! Developments regarding my status are occurring at an alarming rate and were it not for the ghastly, brutish, weather, I must confess, I would not be labouring on this composition.

For cousin, O dearest cousin, I have met the man I wish to marry! Your mother and father are presently unaware of this news so I beg of you dear cousin, please break the happy news as I may not return from my sojourn in Higher Broughton.

Forgive me, you must be vastly keen to learn of what I speak. I shall keep you waiting no longer. ‘Twas a mere eight days ago when I was taking a turn in the village of Trinity; the air was frightfully bitter and, lost in my foolish reveries, I had forgotten my muff. Thankfully, I had a pair of Connie’s sheepskin gloves so my hands were not too perishing, although they fit very ill indeed.

I was looking for the first snowdrops peeping out from under the tired bracken when I heard a twig snap. It fair startled me and I spun around in a frightfully unladylike manner to see a very handsome gentleman on horseback wearing regimentals. His hair was shiny like the horse-chestnut and his eyes seemed to show infinite depth and kindness.

Lo! Cousin! The gentleman climbed down from his steed and took a courteous bow, apologising for his intrusion. He introduced himself and when I told him our name he earnestly expressed how glad he was to make my acquaintance. He is called Mr Bertram Pepper. We spoke of his family seat at Ordsall and how the regiment was stationed at Taunton in the summer months. I told him about our frolics last summer at Weston-Super-Mare. It was then he knelt, dirtying his creamy breeches on the dampened bracken, to retrieve a small posy of snowdrops. He looked at me beseechingly and held out the flowers. I felt my face flush upon which, the gentleman promptly arose and steadied my hysterics.

We are to be married Tuesday week and Bertram says we are to move to the Americas upon completion of our nuptials. His father, Dr Pepper, has a thriving business selling medicated beverages.

I do hope, Cousin that you can make the necessary arrangements and join us at the wedding.

With fond affection,
Your Cousin

Rasta Pasta

Hair in dreads like thick black pasta
Can I play a tape on your ghettoblaster?
You haven’t got one -
It doesn’t matter
You’ve got a milky voice O Mr Rasta.

Mocha Parade

Thought it was all getting a bit too 'wordy' so here's a pretty picture what you can look at with your pretty eyeses.

Mocha Parade is where I do my weekly shop. The fruit and veg merchant is second to none and the Offy takes milk tokens. I take tea with two tokens and a gregarious amount of enthusiasm.

In other news, I'm in love with a Strangeways shirt I bought off an ex-inmate a week before Christmas. 'Tis a mere 50% cotton but it's really comfortable. Unlike, I dare say, prison.

The Aztec in the Attic

There’s an Aztec in our attic. He’s been there for a couple of months now. He’s called Gunther. I know! Weird name for an Aztec, right? I thought that too but it turns out his Mom was German, so…
He’s got a brother called Otto but they lost touch. The last Gunther heard, Otto was living in a town called Bolsover, in Derbyshire, England.
Me and my Mom and Pop moved to the UK five years ago. We’re from Dewey Beach, Delaware. That’s in the US. The first state! Dad worked as a pharmaceuticals salesman for a big shot drugs corporation. Pop’s an okay guy I guess. He is quite tall and wears jeans a lot. I don’t know too much about him.
But, like, woah. This really crazy stuff happened before we all came to England. It all started because my sister, Kaylie, who is 6 years older than me and a total whore, was sucking off one of Dad’s work buddies (Jeff) in exchange for drugs and stuff. Nobody knew for like, ages until it all turned out pretty bad.
She was there getting stoned the whole time, ducking school and stuff, when dickwad Jeff decided to make her do porno films. I don’t know, he was supplying the drugs so I guess she would have done anything. All of this went on for about a year. The douche-bag even bought her a nose job and a fake boobs but Mom and Pop were still totally unaware. Maybe they thought she was a late developer. They’re kinda like that. Real dumb. It’s the same with Gunther, the Aztec. It’s like they haven’t even noticed he’s there?
Okay so my sister, the good gal from Delaware, does this really freaky anal porn which culminates in her ass prolapsing repeatedly during a take. It becomes the biggest hit on YouTube since the guy who sticks the pickle jar up his butt. My sister, in a giggly Roxicodone haze, mumbling ‘my ass, oops, my ass just fell out’ over and over whilst trying to poke it back in with her fake nails. Tee fuckin’ hee sis.
Ironically, a few months later, Dad was giving an informal demonstration on a piece of hardware which is a sort of fake ass, made for people who’s butts have collapsed. He was trying to get the consultants to buy them for their hospital. The doctors all started laughing and talking about the ‘oops my ass just fell out again’ girl from YouTube. Dad didn’t know what they meant until after the presentation when they showed him the clip of my sister. Pretty bad huh?
So, we moved to England. Out of pure shame. My parents just couldn’t take it. Turns out everyone in the neighborhood knew about it. Pretty much everyone in Delaware knew about it. Except for Mom, Pop and me. So now we live in an English house in a place called Milton Keynes. It’s long way from Delaware. Mom has an old Aunt who lives in this really English place called Husbands-Bosworth which is not too far from here. Occasionally we go visit her and drink cups of tea with REAL TEA LEAVES. Gross.
It was pretty shitty until Gunther moved in. But now it’s quite good. I go to a high-school called Kings Heath which is okay I guess. I like History and Home-Economics and German is OKAY but only because Gunther is such a dude and helps me out with it.
He is totally cool. On Saturdays he comes out of the house and helps me do my paper round. Most days though, he just stays right up there in that ol’ attic, playing online games and watching videos. He’s got a Toshiba. I give him shit about it all the time and say, ‘hey Gunther, you should get a Vaio man, they’re way better than that hunk of junk’ but he doesn’t. I guess he must be pretty broke because he ain’t got a job or a rich family. Unless Otto is loaded and sends him money? I doubt it. But I’ll ask him.
It’s a good life that me and Gunther share you know? He tells me about his Mom and how she came to be living in Mexico in 1535 and I tell him about my cousin Lionel who sometimes tips his head back, spits out boogers then catches them in his mouth. If we’re in the mood, we’ll watch ‘oops my ass just fell out again’. No matter how many times we watch that darn video, Gunther just doesn’t get it.