Saturday, 21 January 2012

A Weekend Without Beer

Today, I had planned mouthwatering cheeseburgers and fries for lunch, followed by a trip to our favourite pub, where I was looking forward to downing ten pints of lager, whilst watching football on the pub's big-screen TV.
However, since Tony blew all of our cash last night, playing roulette at our local casino, I've spent most of the day wondering where my next meal is going to come from, whilst sat in our flat, with nothing stronger than water to drink.
Of course, the boy has avoided me all day, leaving the flat very early this morning, telling me he was off to see if he could get his grubby hands on some much-needed cash, to try and get us out of the mess in which we now find ourselves.
I've already told the fucking idiot more than once that money doesn't grow on trees, and if he thinks that the streets of London are lined with cash, he's going to be in for a bit of a shock when he finds that all they're really lined with is dog shit and empty cigarette packets.
Personally, I blame Tony's gambling problem on his father, who was also one of life's hopeless losers, who succesfully steered his own family to financial ruin, by blowing all of his cash on backing disabled racehorses.
So now, thanks to Tony inheriting his father's genes, unless the fat bastard DOES manage to find any money that might be lying around, it looks like that this weekend is going to be another shit few days in the already very depressing life of Dave Cooper!

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