Wednesday, February 22, 2006


"Ruth has flipped out and taken Justine hostage! What's
worse is she's nicked Angela's car and that is a fucking
nice piece of work, Chrysler very sexy, oh God my life!"
I held my head in my hands, I felt a nose bleed coming on.
Any blood and Alan was going to be wearing it. Bastard.
"What are you going to do?" He asked.
"Me?" I glared at him:"Nothing. Everything. First I have
to see Mickey, then we'll see."
"But why has she flipped? What would make a perfectly
nice girl like Ruth turn nasty?" Said Alan, his voice
dripped sarcasm like Pete Burns at a Baywatch reunion.
"That's Cute!" Laughed Mal.
I sighed, it was hard being gorgeous.
"Ruth has realized Justine is a poor substitute for me."
Alan laughed hysterically:"Oh God women! You are
all crazy!"
"No just the ones you screw." Said Mal.
"Don't I know it!" Barked Alan :"It's your ego Becka,
it will get you one day. One day you will be all alone."
I smiled:"I'll have a mirror."

Becka Martin XXX

Saturday, February 18, 2006


"We could stay ye'know." Said Mal:"At mine,
not face the music, talk, chill and shag like
bunnies!" His large handsome face devoid
of make up was like a movie star only bigger
and less shiny.
I gave him what Miss Pollard would call an
Being a bloke he was oblivious to this.
Alan being a prick, was not.
"Well you two can do what you want, I'm
going back to London." He managed to
curl his lip just so, in that way that made us
feel like extras from Goldie Looking Chain.
"Yes I want to go back." I turned to face Alan:
"I doubt that we will see eachother again, this
is way too messy." This was the end, really
His eyes flashed angrily:"How dare you? I make the
rules now! You've led me by the dick for
nearly two years and in this time you have been
a foul and damaging influence. You Becka Martin
are a very dangerous person!"
"Get yew Prince Charming! Why don't ye jus'
marry the hin? Get on with it!"
Mal gave me his dazzling smile full of shit
and sincerity. "If aye liked pussy, yew would
be the one hin."
"Well thanks a fucking bunch." I lit a cigarette.
"I feel sooo much better now."I glared at him:"You
liked my pussy just fine."
"Sometimes I really think I hate you." Said Alan,
either to me or Mal but who cared as neither
was listening. We were eyeballing eachother like
Crystal meth-heads.
But as usual one of us weakened and grinned
like an ape. That would be me.
All I could think about was Mickey Straw, God
he would kill me this time.
I phoned Angela for some gentle clarity.
"Stop shrieking." Was the first thing I said to
her. "Shit." Was the next.
"Problems?" Asked Alan with all the warmth
and charisma of Jack Dee.
"No, just lesbian stuff, no biggie." I lit another
"Just Ruthie is off the wall again and this time
she has taken Justine for the ride. Literally."
"What?" Said Alan.
"Just wait to you hear this!"

Becka M

Tuesday, February 14, 2006




Thursday, February 09, 2006


That's me that is-hard. Cruel. Backcombed hair
and a cigarette. Is it fuck. I'm a soft sooky wuss
with as much fibre as a Wotsit.
"Bye." I said without looking up. Patrick and Catherine
The Geek got out of the car.
"That's it?" Said Alan:"No fulsome goodbyes or retributions?"
He had his sarcastic t-shirt on. I ignored him.
I tried not to watch my elderly Father and his drunken
witch wife totter off towards the airport.
"Yew are harsh!" Said Mal and he sounded shocked,
approving mind, but still shocked.
Patrick didn't look back.
"Oh crap!" I jumped out of the car and legged it after
them, aware of how ridiculous I looked and how
bad I felt inside.
"Pa!" I grabbed his arm, his ice-blue eyes sparkled:You
are still a filthy murdering arsehole, but....I love you!
Don't be a stranger huh?"
"Come with me." He said quietly:"New start for all
of us."
"Nah. Can't. Commitments and all." I smiled.
"Well I think.." Said Catherine, but we both shushed her.
"I'll be in touch. Such a pretty girl." Said Patrick and
stroked my face. I felt this awful glug in my chest
that threatened to have me weeping, snotty like a five
year old. I kissed him, wetly, hopelessly, I'd only had
him five minutes!
After awhile Catherine pulled him away.
I felt better.
Then I got in the car with the Fuckwit guys, oh
Fucking handbags at dawn.
"Whatever you say, whatever you do, nothing will
fix this mess." Said Alan.
"Know what Al? I don't care, let it ride, let it be.
Whatever." Alan Hmmphed, I gave him icy
I texted Angie. 'WHAT'S UP IN LESBOLAND?'

I grinned, Mal laughed as he drove singing (badly)
Angels by Robbie Williams in the style of Billy
Alan made Charles Manson look right friendly.
A hitchhiker would piss his pants to be picked
up by us!

Becka M

Thursday, February 02, 2006


"Where exactly did you tell him to put his
dick?" Asked Mal.
I groaned, I'd only told him about 4 times already
but it was definitely tickling his fancy.
"I told him to stick it in a plug socket as he is such
a wet willy. Ok? Enough now, I need to think."
"Get yew!!" Mal chuckled happily to himself like
some giant ginger hen. Alan was not laughing.
He was tinder.
One spark and he would go off like a rocket
and not in a nice way.
I had called Mal a scheming, heartless she-he
who got off from getting between couples and
fucking them up (truly). But he had laughed
and agreed, what a good judge of character I
was! Which was not the effect I was after.
Patrick got the worst, I had said that with
every fibre in my being I was a Martin and if
I could vacuum the Beamish DNA out of my
body I'd happily do it now. I was repulsed by
him and hey, you know how tolerant I am of
odd folk. He said he was sad I felt that way, he'd
offered to help me and I had thrown it back
in his face like the guttersnipe I was.
Good, I said, better to be scum then to live
off scum. I called him a leech.
He warned me to be careful.
I mooned him.
No mean feat in a leotard I can tell you!
Catherine I had called a festering vapid vampire
(like all of her family really), but this did not
register on account of her being pissed.
So now we are on route to the airport in Edinburgh,
there, hopefully we can off load the old cargo to
S Africa where they can rot.
Alan Alan Alan.
If a body was anymore rigid the embalmers would
be there.
I'd charged my mobile.
11 missed calls from Angela.
1 message from Raine.
I'd phone Angie in a bit.
Sister-thing's message left me cold.



Becka Martin xxx