Greetings, fellow dole scum, shirkers, idlers and deadweight, with yer 50″ plasma screen TVs and yer holidays in Majorca and yer lives of sybaritic luxury to rival Rome under Caligula.
And all on 70 quid a week…how the fuck do you do it, you diabolically clever dead-beats, you?
If only, eh? Those of us living on 70 quid a week experience a rather different reality, an existence where every unforseen expense means going without something.
Need a pair of shoes? That’s you on Tesco’s Value porridge and black tea for a fortnight. Laundry been piling up, neccesitating a trip to the laundromat? More Tesco’s instant noodles at 11p a pack, less fresh veg and fruit; and so it goes, juggling bills, counting pennies, collecting coupons and thanking fuck for free libraries and hacks that allow you to piggy-back on your neighbour’s wireless internet connection (bless you Aircrack for WEP and Reaver for WPA/WPA2).
But the Tory/LibDem vermin subscribe to the Biblical notion that:
For he that hath, to him shall be given: and he that hath not, from him shall be taken even that which he hath. – Mark 4:25
…which is a perfect description of this govt’s policies: sack 100s of thousands of public sector workers, close factories that employ the handicapped and cut benefits to the most vulnerable; give vast amounts of taxpayer’s money to inept, lying fraudsters like A4E, Serco (due to replace the Probation Service), Virgin (who can’t deliver a decent rail service but have been appointed to deliver children’s health-care; what could possibly go wrong?) and G4S, who, after 2 and a half years of preparation still managed to fuck it all up. Lovely.
Which brings me to our beloved Work Program, another utterly predicatable cluster-fuck of epic proportions. The whole rotten edifice is collapsing before our eyes (takes onion from pocket and sobs brokenly). The dismal, greedy, half-witted chumps are finally doing the math and realising that they can’t make money out of this pig’s ear of a policy (just as the rest of us have been saying all along).
Did these greedy cretins seriously think that a policy jotted on the back of a postage stamp by a pair of jargon-spouting Tory imbeciles and moral bankrupts like Grayling and Ian Humpty-Dumpty could end in any other way? Those two could fuck-up a wank.
As for me, the only contact I’ve had with the pimps since March 22nd has been a phone call in mid-April, cancelling an appointment; since then, radio silence. Fine by me…they were a bad joke to begin with.
So stay strong, comrades, and play the long game; show willing (within carefully considered limits), smile and nod, agree with whatever the zombie/pimps say and take comfort in the knowledge that you’re going to see the bastards swirling down history’s pitiless toilet.