Spitting Scotch into the Clyde
A boy's best friend is dead. It's all his dad's fault, so he runs off with his worst whisky...Spitting Scotch into the Clyde I am what ma da would call “bollock freezing”. Ma gonads haven't even dropped yet, so they must be like plain wee peanuts right now in this cold and dark. I'm also drunk – what else could this feeling be? I'm also really sad. I can't believe wee Barry's gone and left us. He was ma best friend in the world and now he's gone and left us. I take another swig of ma da's brutal-tasting fire-water...