Thursday 8 October 2009

Aren't you a little short for a Stormtrooper?

Here's a new article about being on the dole. It's not quite finished but I'd rather be off the dole when I complete it. Hopefully by the time the new issue comes out, this dole article will be a retrospective piece and I'll be getting my anorexic dick sucked by Peaches Geldof on coke. Yeah, those days will rule.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being on the Dole
I haven’t worked a 5 day week since 2004, so I guess it’s only natural that my casual attitude to employment meant that I was the first sucker to wind up on job seekers allowance when the recession kicked in. It ain’t bad, it ain’t good, it’s nothing. Being on the dole just makes me think of overcast days, white noise, catshit, and nu metal. At first I was deeply frustrated at my failures and tried in vain to find a job which would somehow justify my existence. But JSA is like taking too much drugs, fight it and you’ll go all mental in the head. Go with it, and you might just totally expand your mind and have a jolly good time. Of course there will be the terrible moments where you’ll feel like you’ve betrayed your very birth, but try to ignore those. Here’s some helpful tips.

1. Don’t be a haggard masturbator, for fuck sake.
Everyone expects you to be a lay about, playing computer games, drinking, and constantly wanking out of sheer boredom. Well, try not jerking off for as long as possible, it has magical effects. One can spend a whole afternoon sitting in mild frenzy watching spunky young art students go about their delightful business. Some of my best nights out have been in the grip of a two week masturbating fast, walking around with lightning in your loins, ready to fuck even the beastliest wench. However, being in this state has led to some of the more “short lived” sex jams when even putting on a condom was a chore.

2. Fare Dodging
It’s important to get about so you don’t get miserable as sin. Killing yourself because you’re poor is no excuse. Best get yourself out of your normal scenery for a while, the further away the better. Especially if there’s a chance of getting some tail. Just don’t let the job centre find out where you‘ve gone! One day in April I had the opportunity to catch a one way ride up to Swansea to watch Bridge and Tunnel which I couldn’t pass up. My bank account was looking anorexic as per usual, certainly not enough for a return ticket so I knew I’d have to be a wily little fellah to get back to my house, 250 miles away. The show was great fun, a meager amount of grog was drank and I even achieved an impressive “Chubby in the Clubby”. Afterwards some kindly fellows gave me a lift back to Exeter, where upon I succeeded in jumping a train all the way back to Cornwall. Here’s the sneaky techniques I used to get free travel:
> If there happens to be a delayed train, catch that one instead - they’re not so likely to be
checking tickets.
> Normally when a train pulls into a station the conductor gets out to look at the people getting on
and off, try to avoid being seen and note which end of the train the conductor is, then get on the
opposite end.
> Take some ear plugs, put your hood up and pull the sleeping position known as “the napping
mongoloid”. Close your eyes, dribble, let your arms hanging freely. Look a little bit mental.
They’ll only wake you up if they possess an actual hatred of mankind.
> Leave your stuff in the luggage area and proceed calmly to the WC. Take a book, take a seat,
take your time, 30 – 45 minutes isn’t suspect in the least, and if you actually pooh whilst sitting
there, even better. If someone happens to knock, say in the dumbest Midlands accent “LEAVE
ME UHLOONE, I’M TAKING A SHIIIIIIT.”

3. Stay in bed for as long as possible.
I usually get out of bed when it hurts to lie in every position. Imagine you’re one of those hotdogs you see at the cinema, slowly cooking on all sides on a hot metal griddles. At the point where I consider myself a “well cooked sausage” I know that I’m ready to start the afternoon with hardcore fucking vim and vigor.

4. Remember: Take, take, take.
No one’s expecting you to be a Saint – you’re poor as shit and you need to live. Don’t shoplift unless you’re good at it, just take all that free crap that’s there to be taken; toilet paper from the public toilet, herbs from your neighbour’s wallgarden, condiment sachets, your housemates medicated mouthwash (containing ethanol for booze fresh breath), and all those delicious unattended drinks down boozer.

5. Eat with the times.
Since signing on six months ago my diet has become like that of a little street urchin circa 1941 in Nazi occupied Poland. Suffering makes you a better person but going hungry makes you all crazy, trying to find a comfortable middleground can be difficult. I normally eat root vegetable soups and bread, it combats the psychosis but still gives me that down and out vibe that drives the ladies wild.
My favourite dinner is borscht, Russian beetroot soup. It kicks ass! Aside from the morale boosting after-effects of having pink piss and purple turds, beetroot soup tastes far out. Cheap as fuck and you can make it last the whole week if needs be. Find your own recipe, because it’ time for Short Crust.

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