Monday, 27 September 2010

Autumn Is No Good For Us Beer Drinkers

Tony has spent the weekend huffing and puffing. It's cold around here, and he says he just can't get motivated to drink the lager that's been chilling nicely in the fridge. Autumn, he says, does nothing for him.
I've got my own problems, as last Friday I received a call from the Unemployment Benefits Office. The woman who rang me treated me like dirt, and told me that I had to go and see her this week, to explain what progress I've made in looking for a job.
Tony sighed when I told him, and says that England is no longer what it used to be. He's right, as I remember the time when being unemployed meant long summer days of sitting on the beach, drinking lager, and enjoying the fact that one didn't have to work for a living.
Tony reckons that things will only get worse, and that if things carry on like this, being unemployed will be like being branded a rapist.
I reckon that he's got a point, and that the government have got a lot of explaining to do!

Wednesday, 15 September 2010

We Don't Like Wednesdays

Tony and me don't like Wednesdays. It's a shit day for us. To escape the boredom of being unemployed, we've decided to get a bus over to the other side of town, and meet up with our old mate Glen. Glen is also unemployed, tattooed and has a problem with non-English people.
We're going to meet him at one of his favourite pubs, have a few pints, and then see where we go from there. Unfortunately, our cash supply has almost dwindled away to nothing, and we're waiting impatiently for our unemployment benefit to hit our bank accounts. Tony says that life is hard enough as it is, and that us unemployed are penalised for just wanting to have a little bit of pleasure. I mean, is it too much to ask? The price of lager is sky-high, cigarettes are becoming a luxury, and the government just add to our misery by paying us very little, for sitting around all day and doing nothing.
Tony reckons that if things carry on like this, he's going to seriously consider getting a job. I told him that he's talking rubbish, and it will soon be winter, and that it will get dark early, and it will be freezing cold outside. Tony thought about what I said and agreed that he was being foolish, and that perhaps he will wait until spring before he even thinks about looking for a job.

Saturday, 11 September 2010

We Are Oppressed

We've just been watching football on the television. Tony reckons that satellite television is a wonderful thing, but he's right when he says that you can't beat the atmosphere of a live match.
We would love to go and see Arsenal play, but unfortunately, the match tickets are too expensive. The other problem is that Tony has been banned from all football league grounds in England, and in europe, due to the fact that he was arrested a few years ago, for throwing sharp objects at the police, following a match between Tottenham and Arsenal. Of course, as he says, it was a miscarriage of justice, and because he's unemployed and likes to drink a lot, the police have now got him down as somebody who needs to be constantly surveyed.
All this oppression is enough to drive a man to drink, so tonight the two of us are off to the pub. Tony says that he feels at home in the pub, because most of the other customers are no strangers to fighting and being arrested.
I only hope that the place will be free of tourists, because to be honest, we've just about had enough of them for this year. 

Thursday, 9 September 2010

Thursday Morning Gloom

Another day ahead of us. I reckon that we'll end up getting a bus over to the other side of town, as Tony says that there's a pub over there that he wants to try out. Seems to me to be a lot of effort to go to just to get a drink, but as he says, when you're unemployed, time is of little consequence.
A new family has moved in downstairs. Terrible people. Can't speak a word of fucking English, and smell like stale piss. God only knows what they were cooking last night, but when we came back to the flat after our trip to the pub, the whole building stank like a fucking dog-food factory. Tony says that standards around here have reached an all time low, and says that immigrants and refugees are to blame for everything...
...On the radio, the newsreader has just said that a couple of homeless people have been found dead in Hyde Park. It's scandalous. Tony says that only dogs and cats should sleep in parks, and not humans, unless of course they're not English, in which case, he doesn't give a fuck.
I'm glad to see that he's found his aggressive edge, and I reckon that if we carry on like this, somebody's going to get a bit of the Tony Joy treatment before the end of the week.

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

Had To Leave

We've had to leave the pub because we've had too much strong lager, and things were beginning to get out of hand. Tony's eyes were bulging, his face was red, and he had started to intimidate a couple of Polish labourers. They were trying to have a quiet game of darts, but as Tony rightly says, darts is traditionally a game played by English people, in English pubs, and that Polish people should make their own entertainment.
Cheeseburgers and fries are off the menu for tonight, but to be quite honest, we'll get a few cans of lager from the shop on the corner of the street, and finish the evening in front of the television, in the comfort of our own shitty flat.
Tony reckons that the shackles of employment are a burden, and that he's glad to be once again out of work. I told him that it was a fucking stupid idea to get a job, and that at the end of the day, people like us will never be part of the working-class. He agreed, and says that careers are for fuckers, and that the backbone of this country will always be reliant on good, honest, lazy bastards like us.

Tony's Had Enough

Poor old Tony. Two days of hard work in four years and he's already had enough. I've told him that he's got nothing to be ashamed of, and some people around here haven't worked since they left school. We're off to the pub tonight to celebrate his re-entry into the world of unemployment, and he reckons that he's going to drink the place dry.
Of course, as he says, if all the fucking immigrants hadn't taken the decent jobs, he might have something better to look forward to. I told him that being English just doesn't mean a thing any more, and that if you're eastern european, you're bound to fall on your feet over here.
After the pub we'll probably go for a cheeseburger, as apart from strong lager, it's the only thing that keeps Tony sane. God bless America for our meal tonight, and as Tony says, moving furniture for a living is okay, but a man of his talents could probably do a lot better.

I'm Still Here

So, I've changed blog sites, because the other one that I used was starting to get a bit too serious for me. People talking about religion, slimming and all that sort of shit. As Tony says: Religion and slimming should be avoided like the plague. Anyway, if you're not familiar with some of my previous work, I suggest you take a look on the other blog site at what we've got to say for ourselves. But from this point on, our observations about life in London, unemployment and all people foreign will appear here. Got it? Good. Now I'm off to the pub.
Our Previous Blog - THEdaveCooper