Almost feels as though Iam at present due to the horrendous lack of werk.

Tell you though, even IF I could afford
not to werk, I just cannot EVER see me sitting back, reading my bank statements, doing a bit of gardening, leaning on the fence with me flat cap nattering to the neighbours, going down the P.O. for me pension every week, day trips to The Asda and B and great big bastard long Q, lah dee dah dee diddly dum dum.
Highlight of the week, down the oap club for 'luncheon' follwed by crown green bowling and a sherry!

PISS OFF! NO BASTARD CHANCE!

Or worrabout joining the local 'Ramblers Association' then p'raps?
3 mile gentle downhill walk for those with terminal bunyon prioblems and a migrane, led by ex Colnel Doasyerfuckin'toldyounastylittleman.

Christ on a bastard bike, what a bloody way to exist ey?

May as well just bring that bastard BIG black bus RIGHT now, RIGHT NOW and let me get on the whoreing thing if it ever comes to THAT!^^^
