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.