Secret Diary, Tuesday 17th November Part 2
Dear Diary,
This morning I was searching for Frank McAveety and it is well known within journalistic circles that he is not to be found in his constituency, nor Holyrood unless you mean Holyrood Secondary in the south side where it's rumoured he's bumping a cute little English teacher. No, if you want to find McAveety at eleven in the morning then you have to go to the Brazen Head in the Gorbals.
The place was jumping with salt of the earth types singing culturally and historically relevant songs and celebrating their diversity by chanting about blowing up children with bombs. I squeezed past a group of young men dressed from head to toe in green and suddenly recognised them beneath the face paint - it was the republican bhoys! I had a few drinks with them as I scanned the bar for McAveety and it wasn't long before I spotted him as he carried a bucket around asking for donations for 'the struggle' whatever that is.
I introduced myself and he fixed me in the eye and told me there was no need, that he knew exactly who I was. 'I hear you're back in the fold' he said.
'Yes, and that's what I want to talk to you about, I've been directed to you by Tom Devine and Chick Young, I'm to go to Station X.'
'Chick Young, Tom Devine and Station X eh? My, you're coming up in the world. And Chick Young told me you were to come to me?' He looked away towards the republican bhoys and then back at me. 'Okay. The old mill building on Eaglesham moors, that's Station X. You'll want to report to Dr No though, let him know you're coming.'
As he spoke I could feel the excitement rising up inside me, I was getting more than I'd expected just by mentioning the right names. Then McAveety shook his bucket in my face, 'For the cause' he said. I forked out a tenner and then had a few more pints with the republican bhoys in order to consolidate my credentials and then I bumped into Paolo Nutini who to cut a long story short, took me to the toilets, f*cked me, sneered and spat on me leaving me lying on the pish flooded floor.
This morning I was searching for Frank McAveety and it is well known within journalistic circles that he is not to be found in his constituency, nor Holyrood unless you mean Holyrood Secondary in the south side where it's rumoured he's bumping a cute little English teacher. No, if you want to find McAveety at eleven in the morning then you have to go to the Brazen Head in the Gorbals.
The place was jumping with salt of the earth types singing culturally and historically relevant songs and celebrating their diversity by chanting about blowing up children with bombs. I squeezed past a group of young men dressed from head to toe in green and suddenly recognised them beneath the face paint - it was the republican bhoys! I had a few drinks with them as I scanned the bar for McAveety and it wasn't long before I spotted him as he carried a bucket around asking for donations for 'the struggle' whatever that is.
I introduced myself and he fixed me in the eye and told me there was no need, that he knew exactly who I was. 'I hear you're back in the fold' he said.
'Yes, and that's what I want to talk to you about, I've been directed to you by Tom Devine and Chick Young, I'm to go to Station X.'
'Chick Young, Tom Devine and Station X eh? My, you're coming up in the world. And Chick Young told me you were to come to me?' He looked away towards the republican bhoys and then back at me. 'Okay. The old mill building on Eaglesham moors, that's Station X. You'll want to report to Dr No though, let him know you're coming.'
As he spoke I could feel the excitement rising up inside me, I was getting more than I'd expected just by mentioning the right names. Then McAveety shook his bucket in my face, 'For the cause' he said. I forked out a tenner and then had a few more pints with the republican bhoys in order to consolidate my credentials and then I bumped into Paolo Nutini who to cut a long story short, took me to the toilets, f*cked me, sneered and spat on me leaving me lying on the pish flooded floor.
posted by The Secret Diary of Graham Spiers | 07:10
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