Trainspotting

by Irvine Welsh

bairn,

Fit

Sometimes ah think that people become junkies just because they subconsciously crave a wee bit ay silence.

the real junky (as opposed tae the casual user who wants a partner-in-crime) doesnae gie a fuck aboot anybody

unnerves us tae the extent that ah feel ma ain genitals through ma troosers tae see if they’re still thair.

That’s the wey ye huv tae look at it. Cannae jist cancel the gig. The show must go oan.

adversaries

Take yir best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty, and you’re still fuckin miles off the pace.

Fuck sake Mark. Ye ken she’s really intae ye.

Alison wis right. Ah didnae really know much aboot women. Ah didnae really know much aboot anything.

that’s what ah am, a coffin-dodger, and ma reflexes are not getting any better

Any port in a storm,

People talk aboot youngsters and vandalism, what aboot the psychic vandalism caused by these auld bastards?

apathy.

colostomy

prerogative

sycophantic

sadist,

It’s oddly reminiscent ay the foot pool at the swimming baths ah used tae go tae.

Sometimes ah really think the gadge still believes that an erection is for pishing over high walls.

Simon David Williamson, NUMERO FUCKING UNO,

stoic

So wir aw off tae Dublin in the green — fuck the queen! Whair the hel-mits glisten in the sun — fuck the huns! And the bayonets slash, the aw-ringe sash To the echo of the Thomson gun.

fetid

hegemony

bairn’s

Lesley comes first, eftir me. That goes without saying.

So much that ah don’t want her tae have a son like me. Ah wish ah could find her a replacement.

Ah cannae see that. Aw ah wanted tae dae wis tae keep her thair, tae talk.

Ah felt like takin a rolled up fiver tae the cunt’s tin flute.

The rhetorical question, the stock-in-trade weapon ay burds and psychos.

By the time ah leave the pub, ah am in no doubt of my lack of worth as a human being.

It was like sleeping wi a surfboard.

Fuckin failures in a country ay failures.

It’s nae good blamin it oan the English fir colonising us.

Ah don’t hate the English. They’re ...

Ah don’t hate the English. They just git oan wi the shite thuv goat. Ah hate the Scots.

Once ye git tagged HIV, that’s you fucked.

Ye go backwards or forwards after shagging, but maintaining the status quo is difficult.

Begbie’s epitaph tae Julie is: — Fuckin waste ay a good bit ay fanny.

Ah fight back the urge tae tell um what a fuckin waste ay a silver bullet he’d be.

A mosaic shell ay scar tissue and indian ink, ah presume that there’s some cunt inside it, is screaming: — DOUBLE VODDY N COKE! DOUBLE FAAHKIN VODDY N COKE THEN CUNT!

impunity,

He really is a cunt ay the first order. Nae doubt about that. The big problem is, he’s a mate n aw. Whit kin ye dae?

diddy

Now auld Baxter has gone tae the great gig in the sky; replaced by his hospice-humoured bastard ay a son.

Lizzy is a shag extraordinaire, but has a tongue like a sailor and a castrating stare.

apathy.

anaesthetise

absconded