Reheated Cabbage by Irvine Welsh Read Free Book Online

whisperin tae each other aw the wey through the fuckin picture anywey. Eftir makin aw that fuss aboot it, that cunt wisnae even watchin the film, right. At the end ay it, the pair ay thum git up n stand in front ay the telly. Ah'm jist aboot tae tell thum tae sit the fuck doon cause ah want tae change channels tae see that fuckin Snowman cartoon, fir the sake ay the bairns, ken, n thir blockin the signal fae the remote.
    — We've got a little announcement to make, this Greg cunt goes, and Elspeth moves close tae um and they hud hands. Muh ma's lookin aw excited. It's like she's waitin fir the last fuckin number oan her caird doon at the Mecca. The Greg cunt coughs. — It's difficult tae know how to say this, but, well, yesterday, I asked Elspeth if she would do me the great honour of becoming my wife, and I'm delighted tae say that she said yes.
    Ma auld girl stands up, aw delirious, n stretches her airms oot like that Al Jolson cunt, aw ready tae burst intae song. But it's tears she bursts intae, n she's sayin how beautiful it is; her wee lassie n she cannae believe it, n aw that crap. What a fuckin fuss tae make ower nowt. It's like some cunt hud slipped an ecky intae her sherry. Ah widnae pit it past yon Greg. Slylookin gadge, ken? Aye, Sandra n Kate are aw excited n Joe's wee yin says, kin she be a bridesmaid? and they say, aye, of course ye kin, n aw that shite. Ah couldnae fuckin believe ma ears. Gittin mairried! Oor Elspeth n this fuckin nonce cunt in the suit!
    Her heid's in the clouds. That's Elspeth but, eywis thinkin thit she's better thin any cunt else. Spoiled rotten by bein the youngest, n the only lassie, that's what it wis. Nivir hud it rough, no like me n Joe. Thinks thit she kin jist suit ehrsel. Some cunt should tell her: it disnae fuckin well work that wey, no in the real world.
    So ah'm fuckin well sittin thaire, ma nut poundin, n thair aw shriekin away as she pills oot a ring n sticks it oan her finger, showin it oaf. — It's beautiful, muh ma goes.
    — Very nice, that Sandra sais. — Did eh git doon oan the bended? Bet eh did, she goes, lookin at that Greg, then glancin doon at ma brar like eh's nowt.
    Fuckin Elspeth but. Ah dinnae ken what she's playin at. Ah mind ay that last boy she wis gaun oot wi, he wis a good cunt. Keith, the boy's name wis. He hud a big motor n aw, and a no bad flat. They pit the perr fucker away though, jist fir dealin a wee bit ay bugle. It's fuckin well oot ay order, cause jist aboot every cunt's at that game these days. Ye cannae really class charlie as drugs, no in ma book. Ah mean, it's no like it's schemies fuckin killin thirsels wi smack. What it is, is a designer accessory fir the modern fuckin age. That's the problem wi this fuckin country though; too many cunts livin in the Dark Ages, no prepared tae move wi the times.
    This Greg cunt vanishes for a bit, then eh comes back wi a huge boatil ay champagne n some glesses. The wey that Sandra's lookin at the boatil, ye'd think it wis a fuckin vibrator thit she wis gaunny stick up her fanny. So fuckin pretty boy pops the cork n it flies acroas the room, hittin the ceilin. Ah'm ower n checkin tae see if it's left a mark whaire it hit the paintwork, n if it hus, that cunt kin pey fir muh ma tae git her fuckin ceilin redone. Lucky fir him it husnae. Eh pours the drink intae the glesses. Joe takes a gless fae the cunt, but ah wave um away.— Dinnae like that stuff. That's crap, ah tell the boy.
    — Stickin tae the beer, aye, eh goes.
    — Aye, ah sais.
    — Come on, son, it's a special occasion, yir sister's engagement, muh ma goes.
    — Disnae bother me, ah dinnae like they fizzy bubbles, they git up ma nose, ah tell her, lookin ower at the Greg poof, wi ehs fuckin side partin n ehs suit n crew-neck shirt withoot a tie. Ah wanted tae tell her that he gits up ma fuckin nose, but ah kept quiet, Christmas n that.
    Aye, it's no fir me tae say nowt, but ah'll run a check oan this cunt. Somethin fuckin right iffy aboot that