jimmy-holland

I was having a field day down the Westend; my deep pockets were jingling and full of money nearly every day of the week. My brother__ bird, Irene, wanted a fur coat, so I got her one by throwing a brick through the shop window and grabbing the coat off the shop dummy. Once I got to the bed-sit, I put the jacket on and waltzed in to the flat looking like Liberace, the two of them burst out laughing. Irene was like a tramp eating chips. __et__ try it on, Jimmy, please?_ As she swooned around like Joan Collins with the fur coat on, she had the air of a council estate beauty queen about her.

I waltzed into the hall with my escort of five screws like some rapper with his well-paid entourage. A fiendish looking, little bastard with blonde hair and a crooked nose came up to me and said, __kay, Holland, welcome to Shotts. Welcome to the man-eater!

This was my first time in Govan. You could smell and taste the thick smog in the air. The Blue Triangle was a new high-tech building, and it didn__ look right standing there in front of older and more historical buildings. The Blue Triangle may have looked great from the outside, but once inside, to my horror, it was full of young teenage boys and girls full of deep and dark depression