Trainspotting

by Irvine Welsh

Ah mean, you ken me, ah’m no the type ay cunt thit goes lookin fir fuckin bothir likes; but ah wis the cunt wi the fuckin pool cue in ma hand,

He’s pished ootay his fuckin heid n he kin hardly haud the fuckin pool cue. This is fuckin half-past eleven oan a Wednesday mornin wir talkin aboot here.