?-Dave_Mysterious-?29 Sep 2003

Once, when I was about 12, me and my friend (the one who got killed in a drive-by) broke into a skag warehouse just off the M4. We did the whole lot right there and then. Boy, was that a real bad idea! I ODed and had to be rushed to hospital. My mum went fucking ape-shit. She told me I wasn't welcome at home any more and stormed away in tears.
Then the doctor came in. He said he was tired of treating little punks like me and threw me out the back door along with the medical waste. I wandered the streets for a long time. I was really fucking freezing cold; it was snowing and I was still wearing my backless hospital gown. Eventually I found this homeless shelter. There was this guy dressed as santa clause, with a real crumby fake beard. He was a real phoney. He was giving out presents and cups of lettuce soup to homeless kids, so I went up to see him. But then I just puked up in his face, I didn't mean to, I swear to god, but I did. He hauled me out onto the street and started to kick my fucking face in. I looked up at him pleadingly, his santa's beard dripping with puke and all. Then he took a real heavy present and lobbed it at my head. It took a couple of teeth out. I pushed myself up from the freezing slush, and opened the parcel. It was a Corby trouser press.