There was a lot of stuff in 1992 that i cannot remember in date order, or i feel are extraneous in certain stories, so i have decided to put bits in here and there, like this one.
I was living in Nunny in a bedsit because i had fallen out with the guy i lived with in Atherstone. He was getting £50 a week from social services for me living there, and he treated me like a cunt. never any food in, expected me to clean the house everyday like i was his wife and lots of other crap. i was supposed to pay him £5 a week and he told my social worker i wasnt paying it. we was selling £1000/£1500 of drugs a night. ok, only 2 nights a week, but enough. the deal from social workers was they pay him £50 a week and i pay £5 to show responsibility. he was a mate, and i had sorted this with him so me living there would pay his mortgage and food for me. lets put things in perspective; £50 a week in those days was easily worth triple now. So yeah, i fucked him off. I had been in a bedsit for about 6 weeks and now living in a womans house that was colder than outside. I wasn’t shagging her, i paid her £5 a week to rent a bedroom. I should have had change. She lived there with her daughter and it was always freezing. To put this into perspective, i was only there a couple of weeks, 7 at most but bugger me, i froze those whole weeks off. I had been out somewhere and met a girl i knew from my foster care days. We used to have to go out with other kids in care and learn how to get along, blah blah…. but this girl was one of only 4 on the same courses us foster kids had to endure. Her name was Marcella and her life was messed up. Most importantly, she was very fit. The other girls on these ‘social activities’ had big issues, most had been molested by those caring for them. I couldn’t comprehend that aged 15, but aged 41 now i still struggle with understanding how you would cope with that kind of trauma. Self harming was rife, we all had to talk about it, but it was alien to me, i don’t get why hurting yourself makes anything better? Anyhoo, i met this girl Marcella and took her back to this house of ice. We had an acid between us and the walk back to house took ages. We kept stopping to look at things like lamp posts, imagining they had had ski lifts between each one, and where would make the best stops. Looking back, this would have freed up traffic on the A444, but what do i know about town planning? So we made it back to the house of ice and snuggled up in my single mattress on the floor. That was the warmest night i had there. I did suffer from cash flow after my dealer went to jail, hence me living in this shot hole. Times were tough.
I had started seeing a girl i had met who was from Corby, and perhaps surprisingly, not Scottish. She was tiny with short hair and very cute, but i didn’t want anything too serious. Her sister (who was scottish) came over to where i was living at the time to tell me her sister was seeing someone else and she took me to Corby to find out for myself. We got there and went round to her mates house where my bird was, and she didn’t deny it. I wasn’t bothered to be honest, i wasn’t looking for long term love anyway. I stayed at their gaff for a few hours and watched a lad absent mindedly pick a piece of cardboard up and start chewing it. As i looked closer i realised he had picked up a sheet of acid tabs! He had chewed up about 12 of them and was now panicking, and rightly so. I left shortly after that, but i heard he pulled a tooth out with plyers whilst flying his tits off. Nice! The girls sister drove me home and we both got into my bed and smoked a joint. She asked me if i had ever had sex on poppers and i hadn’t so she got a bottle of it out and gave me a sniff. Call me thick, but i didn’t realise what was going on here, and was somewhat surprised when she dived on me. I gotta say, she was a great fuck, far better than her sister. She left in the morning and that was the last i ever saw of either of them.
I was also very briefly seeing a girl called Jackie. Her brother was a complete psycho and i heard he wasn’t happy that she was seeing me, and had passed a message on that if i gave her any drugs he would rearrange my facial features manually for me. She came to Milwaukees with us one night and one of my girl mates gave her a double dove. Bad idea, she spent all night in the bogs freaking out. She eventually calmed down and when we got home i finished with her. She went mental, and said she would get her brother to beat me up. I couldn’t fucking win! Luckily he never found me as i moved again soon after, but this was another reason why i didn’t really bother with girls for a while.
I had met a load of lads from Corby at the Eclipse and we were writing to each other regularly (yup, pen pals. Now THAT’S old skool!) I had been out one night with some mates and we ate a lot of speed that night. We were at Corley services on the M6, where ravers would meet up at the weekend and i collapsed. My mates took me to hospital and waited with me for a few hours. I was hooked up to a cardiograph and my heartbeat was going through the roof, even more so when my mates pointed it out to me. They got caught by the nurse snorting speed and got thrown out. I got put on a ward and there was 4 beds; all of them had old men in them coughing, snoring and farting and i was lying there, flying my tits off. I signed myself out and recovered at home, rather than stay in gods waiting room. My mates from Corby heard and came to pick me for the weekend and party. When they came my weird flatmate insisted on tagging along so off to Corby we went. I had dj’ed at a couple of their raves, which they had called ‘Elysium’, and they were top lads. They paid for me to go Milwaukees but my heart wasn’t in it, i still felt crap and didn’t want to take any drugs. We left there and went to one of the lads houses for a session on the decks, but my flat mate was off his cake and talking bollocks which was winding up the lads. They didn’t know him and the only reason they let him come was because he was moaning like a kid about being left out. After a short while they had had enough and told me sorry, but we have to take you home before somebody kicks your mates head in. When we got back to the flat we had a massive row, and he moved out the next day which i thought was a bit weird, he had bought the flat! I stayed there for a few weeks on my own but eventually left and moved in with a mate elsewhere. Years later i heard he had killed himself, so imagine my surprise when in 2005 i saw him on a tv programme called ‘The Sex Doctor’, getting help for premature ejaculation! MEGALOL!
A few mates died in 1992, and every year after i lost at least 2-3 mates per years, either through drugs, car crashes, cancer and an alarmingly high number of suicides. R.I.P to all those lads, it’s never nice losing people but even worse when they are young. I think i will end this here, on this depressing point……
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