Alright fellas, there was no blog last week as I had no sense of humour so wasn’t quite up to the task of mocking my life. Swimming in a sea of my own despair. No worries this week though, luckily for my readers my existence is getting more pathetic by the second, which is always good comedy value.
I think this is around day 227 of my unemployment odyssey, which is way further than I ever though I’d get without throwing myself in to the canal wearing a concrete duffel coat (like I could afford concrete). For all those street cats out there who know the jive talking, ol’ Lukat has finally reached level 3 on the dole. For the less educated people out there that means I am really...really fucked.
After 6 months of ‘enjoying’ my work shy holiday I now have the opportunity to work...FOR FREE. That’s right now the government has decided that instead of having all these scumbags stealing their new yacht collection money why don’t we just send the smelly bastards out to work full time for their droppin’s. Now that might sound all fine and dandy to the working folk out there...you know how it is...bloody wasters...paying for them to have bloody kids...bloody tax payers expense...bloody pint of union jack please mate. Well I’d agree maybe it would be nice to get some work experience and hopefully get a job at the end of it, after all you guys were kind enough to fund me for my internship in watching daytime TV and masturbating twice a day so why don’t I get out there with my tub of elbow grease. Well you see the thing is I have really been trying to find a job but sadly no one really wants to employ a fine art photographer/writer of erotic literature so I pretty much have the proverbial thumb…up my literal anus…or is that the metaphorical thumb up my mythical anus? Anyway I’ve been running around like a half man half wolf trying to find any shitty job that would take on my slick anus...(woah woah too many bum references here. Let’s clean this right up). To the extent that by the end of last week I was stumbling around one of the roughest areas of Burnley wearing a tight fitting shirt, Cuban heels and a man bag/satchel begging for employment. I was the only white man within a mile and looking like a waiter at a moderately good Italian restaurant, trying my best to pull the traditional ‘don’t stab me bud’ face only to arrive at the destination of my ‘interview’, which was actually some plumbing supplies shop down a back alley where they took my C.V and told me to do one. Here comes success.
I’m pretty much starting to think I am unemployable now. I went to an open interview for a telesales job dressed in full business wear thinking SURELY compared to my fellow dole scum I am a more attractive prospect. Oh how wrong L-Kat was. So I go in there reeling off a list of my educational victories only to be passed up for a chap wearing jeans and trainers who looked like he’d just smoked about 200 cigarettes. PLEASE SOMEBODY…SHOW THIS MAN TO THE HEAD OFFICE…WE MUST EMPLOY HIM AT ONCE. Truly a better man than I, for he had sales experience. He’d worked in a shop for a while so obviously that makes him more able to speak and communicate than the guy with a DEGREE. No worries, not like I’m bitter or anything. I mean it aint like I’ve resorted to begging for terrible jobs that I don’t actually want…out of pure desperation…then still getting rejected in favour of crack heads. It’s not like I’m 21 grand in debt after going to Uni to try and get a decent career…only to find that once I graduated I can’t get a job hassling old ladies on the phone to buy insurance. I mean that wouldn’t make a guy bitter at all, the worlds a great place. La la lahhhhhh.
So basically now if I don’t find a job in the next few weeks they are probably going to ship me out to do 100 hour shifts working in a slaughterhouse. Handling offal with my bare hands for what works out to be 0.0002p an hour and getting a weird skin disease that makes my hair fall out.
But ey…that’s ok...that’s just fine pal. Fine and dandy. You don’t kill of L-kat that easily, the foul stench of despair that I am, surviving purely out of spite. I don’t think making me work for free is bad enough, I think that’s too good for me. I want something worse...I want to sponge bath old people and clean up their faeces for weekly rations of beans. I want to be used as a test subject for dangerous new chemical experiments and I don’t want any compensation when my penis falls off and my blood turns neon green…I’ll be glad for the experience…something to put on my c.v. So so grateful.
Here’s an idea, why don’t you send all us dole scum out to solve the conflict in the Middle East. We don’t even need equipment or any training, it’s not like we’re real people or anything. Just stuff us all in to a big crate then drop us in the middle of the war zone. Might as well put us lazy bastards to some good use, no more sponging off the taxpayers. Now we’re out fighting a war with our filthy, bare hands. We’ll just get some of the bigger lads together and rush the enemy shouting ‘DOLEY DOLEY DOLEEEEEEEE’ and hope they retreat in fear. Watch the terror in their eyes as a bunch of poorly dressed idiots charge them down pounding them with bin bags full of spare change we collected off the floor. We’ll have our dole booklets stamped in blood. If we capture a prisoner of war we shall break him simply by talking about our lack of employment till he crumbles and reveals enemy secrets. ‘ERRR YOU SEE WHAT IT IS MATE..WHAT IT IS..I JUST CAN’T GET A BLOODY JOB..HALF OF EM SAY I’M NOT EXPERIENCED LIKE BUT HOW AM I MEANT TO GET EXPERIENCE UNLESS I GET A BLOODY JOB..IT’S HARD WORK MATE..THEN I’M OVERQUALIFIED FOR HALF OF THESE BLOODY JOBS MATE..YOU KNOW.’ The stench of our cider breath too much for even the toughest of soldiers to handle. Sure some of the weaker job seekers will be brutally slaughtered and ripped in half by gunfire but at least it stops us sponging off the government. Kill us...why not eh...would be a few less expenses then for old Davey Cameron.
If that’s no good maybe the government could sell us to the human trafficking industry. We can be sold as sex slaves to the Koreans. I’ll go and work in a massage parlour giving hand jobs to big businessmen; it doesn’t matter, as long as I get my £52 a week then no worries. If people don’t want to fuck us due to the stench of despair then why not just make us all fight each other for entertainment. Get a TV deal with channel 5, send us all to a big field then have us compete in a fight to the death. It can be like the old roman gladiators, bashing the shit out of each other in chainmail vests with swords and spears. If that’s too expensive just give us a bunch of bin lids and steering wheel locks and we’ll beat the piss out of each other so the richer folk can have a good time. Look at those awful poor people, deary deary me. Maybe even introduce some pitbulls if things are getting a bit dull, there’s nothing that says entertainment like watching the unemployed get mauled by vicious dogs. It’s the laugh riot of the century. Earn your bloody keep mi’ lad. Maybe turn it in to a kind of unemployed big brother. A bunch of us lads off the dole get sent to a council house and each week the general public votes one of us out to go and live on the streets and die homeless. They can make it more competitive by introducing a series of tasks like...who can get the most rejection emails in one day or...who can drink the most scrumpy in the space of an hour. It is TV gold just waiting to happen.
Why not just send us off to concentration camps instead? That would be more cost effective, just get us all in a warehouse and gas us to death. We’re no better than animals anyway, it’s not like we have brains or pay any tax. Subhuman scum. GET A BLOOODYYY JOB…or die. Sell us all to Jezza Kyle for his travelling circus. His whole career is based on exploiting poverty stricken halfwits…ROLL UP ROLL UP…COME SEE THE FREAK…HALF HUMAN…HALF DOLE…THE BODY OF A MAN…BUT THE BANK BALANCE…OF A SPIDER. Good ol’ Jezza is always in need of inbred scumbags, if we’re not ugly enough just expose us to radiation and nock all our teeth out. We don’t need to eat or sleep; we’ll just live in his basement chained to the radiator till he’s ready for us. He can even get some of his high society pals round to kick us in the balls and burn us with cigars for a flippin’ good laugh. The possibilities are endless.
So I would estimate that I have about one or two more weeks left to live. I mean live in a human sense of the word. After the job centre has finished cutting off my testicles and making me swallow cocktails of my own pride then I probably won’t be able to exist in normal society. I will most likely dwell underground in the sewer, speaking to no one but people on my level such as sex offenders and ageing transvestites. Soon I will lose the ability to read or write and will become terrified of the internet and its modern technology. I will cast aside all that I am to begin my new career...using my own hair to mop up piss in the toilet of life…for free of course…I don’t need paying. Why would I?
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