Fun, fun, fun...and then some.

Alright you bunch of no marks. So I finally get another job interview after several months of waiting. Some big business, chump realises that Joey Luka has a lot of promise, even if his C.V. is filled with fictional work rather than actual on the job experience. Some nobody thinks ey…this Joey Luka guy is real sharp…real on the ball… You get a guy like that in the company and the opposition goes running to the hills, screaming like a lil’ girly girl. They say Lukat…Lukat baby you could do customer services couldn’t you? You’re a charming bubbly character and you like the general public? I say sure I love em’ they’re a great bunch of lads, with their ill informed opinions, tiny minds and disgusting, dull, irrelevant personalities...whining on and on and on about their pathetic little lives, calling me on the phone WAHH WAHH WAHHH fix this for me Lukat, fix that, please champ we need you, please…please…pweaseeee…FUCK OFF…fuck right off pal. I’d rather leave you to perish in the fires of hell than take a second to piss on you and save your miserable existence, to soften the blow for your loved ones, to give you some kind of bleak future in which to ‘make your dreams come true’. No I won’t piss on you even though I do really need to urinate right now…even though this very second I am in desperate need for the toilet and it would probably help us both out and be a hell of a lot easier if I just urinated on you to put out the flames…well no I’m not going to do that pal because I’d rather watch you burn and die...I’d rather see the tears of your loved ones, I’d rather lick their tragic faces and taste the salt of their agony as you turn to ashes, burning away because I wouldn’t piss on you…YOU FUCKER…FUCKER..I’LL KILL YOU FUCK HEAD…I WANT TO WATCH YOU DIEEEEEE…anyway pal sorry what was your call about?

Yeah so anyways I get an interview, that’s basically the gist of it. So I turn up to this industrial estate in the middle of nowhere. I strut on down in the pouring rain, massive holes embedded in the concrete as though bombs had been dropped on the place. Vicious looking dogs chained to a fence guarding the premises and some gruff polish chaps standing about loading vans…excuse me good sir…could you point me in the direction of the ‘technology centre’? I assume it’s some kind of futuristic building, probably built by some genius of architecture with radical modernist views? Maybe I will be transported to the interview room via a complex laser system developed by the best scientists in the world perhaps? BEHOLD TECHNOLOGY IN ALL ITS GLORY.

‘Yeh err…it’s down there pal’.

Oh I see just down here is it? In this dark corner of urban decay? Oh I see it’s this building, this grim looking structure, worn and grey, housing the tortured souls of minimum wage employment? This is the technology centre? I understand, a truly fitting name it is friend.

Yeah anyway enough of the shit, enough of the mincing around with my fancy words, ooh he thinks he’s well clever don’t he? Smug bastard, posting his little blogs, at the tax payers expense, we’re paying for him to bloody write these blogs, bloody tax payers expense pal, paying for him to have kids, bloody coming over here…Joey Luka…on his bloody banana boat…stealing our jobs…our bloody jobs…at the technology centre, the state of the art technology centre…bloody stealing our minimum wage telesales job…bloody Lukat…stealing our bloody jobs…on his banana boats...with his foreign bloody name…bloody Joey Luka…bloody Lukat…probably from Greece or turkey…Istanbul maybe…coming over here stinking of curry…stealing our jobs the bloody bastard…at the bloody technology centre…

Where was I? Oh yeah I had to turn the job down since it would actually have COST me more money than it would of made me, which is what you want really. It’s a great package; I’m just a work shy idiot for turning it down, a fucking pussy, wasting the chance of a life time. Can I just get this fantastic opportunity in writing please though? Could you sell it to me good sir, I know I should be grateful to even clean your shoes, a lowly graduate like me, but sir pretty please could you sell this job for me mate…please mate…convince me…I’ll suck your thumb like a baby...GAH GAH GOO GOO WAHH WAHHHH PLEASE MATE…PLEASE….PLEASEEE?

“Well you see Joey here’s the setup, here’s how this thing goes down. You get to work for 40 hours a week, in this horrible little call centre, hassling old dears on the phone for their supper money, hassle them till all their moneys gone Joey, trick them if you have to, the senile old bitches. Yeah steal their retirement money Joey, out of house and home, it’s all sell sell sell mate, steal their ceramic bulldog ornaments, their deceased husband’s war medals, he was a hero Joey but that don’t matter, it’s all about the sell...you’re being paid on commission here Joey you gotta sell...this is commerce, you steal the old fuckers money and you get your minimum wage…real nice deal Joey.”

Well this sounds great, I mean is that the whole package? I’d be a fool to turn it down.

“Well you see Joey there are a few minor details we need to put out there, you know how it is, the small print. You see we can pay you minimum wage, hassling these old dears on the phone for 40 hours a week...yeh we can do that Joey but we aint going to pay you for the first two weeks. Nah you understand Joey, a piece of useless scum like you, we can’t trust you talking to people over the phone so we aint going to pay you for the first two weeks. Yeah I know you have to get the train over here an hour and 15 minutes early every day and that may well set you back £30-40 a week but hey…this is commerce, we can’t afford to pay an idiot like you straight up, so to be fair this job will actually cost you far more money than you’d ever make. That’s a good deal right Joey? Paying to work here, travelling over 2 hours a day to work here, that’s a good deal right bud? Of course there is no guaranteed job at the end of this either mate, I mean we could well just use you for slave labour for 2 weeks then tell you to fuck off, but it’s a foot in the door bud, a real opportunity. Now could you just kneel down here next to me Joey, now could you just pop this in your mouth? That’s right Joey, it’s another opportunity for you Joey. That’s right you suck the big boss man off…but Joey where are you going now? You have to pay for that pal, that wasn’t for free, empty your pockets. Nah you see what you did there bud? You thought that you were doing a job for me in exchange for money, but in actual fact I was offering you an opportunity there bud to better yourself, and those don’t come cheap. So come on we’ll go to a cash machine right now and get the money out. Yeah that’s good mate you can put that on your C.V., now get your long train home in the rain pal. See you bright and early tomorrow mate….TA TA.

Yeah so basically I didn’t take the job and I’m still unemployed. Cool.

So anyway this got me thinking, is my life actually this pathetic, or am I involved in some kind of sinister Truman show style plot? Some source of entertainment, designed for the sole purpose of giving the general public something to have a good laugh at. It all makes perfect sense now, no one could possibly be this pathetic, I mean there would be some give, there would be some end to the daily humiliation? This leads me to believe that there is something far bigger going on here. Some need to keep me unemployed, some higher purpose to degrade me on a daily basis to gain humour from my futile existence?

Then it came to me. I’m just part of some terrible Itv2 reality show aint I? Most likely presented by some fat idiot like…I don’t know, just off the top of my head…erm…James Corden. You know…presented by some fat, useless, untalented idiot…like erm…just off the top of my head…erm…James Corden…you know some cheap, tacky reality show, presented by…erm…just off the top of my head…erm…someone who would be FAT…and erm…USELESS…and erm…UNTALENTED…erm…someone like, just off the top of my head, maybe someone like erm...like James Corden? Pandering to the public, forcing them to suckle on his bitch tits, making them believe that he is some way funny, or likeable or even witty, fooling them because he’s on television. Look, he’s on the TV, they say he’s a comedian therefore he must be funny.

HAHAH…HAHAHAHAHHAHA.HHAHAHAHAHHAHA…no.

So yeah anyway my miserable life is just the subject of a terrible Itv2, daytime reality show, probably with some uncreative title like ‘Joey Loser’.

THIS WEEK…ON JOEY LOSER…

Joey heads to town in search of love. He can’t afford any of the damaged lynx Africa from B&M bargains anymore so he just shoves some urinal cakes in his pockets. He’s run out of tooth paste this week, so instead just scrubs his mouth out with the soap from a public toilet and hopes for the best. Joey Loser can’t afford any decent clothes so he roots around in the attic for his knackered, old school shoes and his dead grandfather’s suit. There is no stopping this guy. Joey sets off walking to town since he can’t afford the bus and arrives 2 hours later, sweating and flustered. He storms through the doors a man on a mission, quickly dries the sweat patches from his suit with the hand dryer then gets to work on his romantic adventure. Our hero spies some fat chicks in the corner of Whetherspoons so heads over ready to charm the massive pants off them…

‘ALRIGHT BABES HAHA ALRIGHT BABES HAHA YOU COME HERE OFTEN HAHA, YOU LEGAL YEAH HAHA? YOU FANCY A DRINK BABES HAHA YEAH, AH SHIT I DON’T HAVE MUCH MONEY BABES WILL A GLASS OF TAPWATER BE OK, STILL A DRINK AINT IT, A NICE COOL GLASS OF TAPPY THAT ORIGHT YEAH COOL COOL HAHA MIGHT TREAT MYSELF TO ONE OF EM HAHA, BARKEEP A GLASS OF TAPPY PLEASE MY GOOD MAN, MAKE THAT TWO GLASSES OF TAPPY I’M FEELING IT TONIGHT BUD. HAHA SO BABES WHAT YOU DOING AFTER THIS EH YOU SHOULD COME BACK TO MINE HAHA I LIVE WITH MY MUM HAHA BUT SHE’S OUT AT WORK HAHA I’M ON THE DOLE MYSELF SO I DON’T HAVE A JOB AS SUCH BUT THAT GIVES ME PLENTY OF TIME FOR MY HOBBIES HAHA LIKE MAKING SINISTER KEYBOARD MUSIC AND CHRONIC MASTURBATION HAHA HAHA COME ON BABES MY MUMS NOT IN HAHA COME ON I’VE GOT A RUBBER JOHNNY IN MY POCKET HAHA, IT EXPIRED IN 2010 BUT IT SHOULD BE REYT HAHA AINT HAD A SHAG IN A WHILE HAHA ONLY A RUBBER AINT IT LOVE HAHA NO WORRIES HAHA COME ON BABES…PLEASE….PLEASE…PLEASE TOUCH MY PECKER…

The furious chubster spits in poor Joey’s face and he’s ushered out by the bouncers, thrown out in to the harsh streets, he picks himself up, nose bloodied and brushes the dirt from his ancient suit. Things are looking grim so he decides maybe a trip to the local strip club will cheer him up. Surely those birds can’t turn him down, it’s their job to pretend to like losers, he still has some spare change in his pocket. Business is picking up. He sneaks in through the door, eyes glowing in excitement of his erotic master plan. Out comes some hard faced, orange slapper, gyrating in her G-string, requesting a tenner for her troubles.

‘ERE THE THING IS BABES HAHA, THE THING IS RIGHT I DON’T REALLY HAVE A TENNER ON ME HAHA I MEAN I’VE GOT SOME CASH LIKE HAHA IF YOU JUST LET ME COUNT IT OUT HAHA THERE MIGHT BE ENOUGH HERE HAHA JUST BARE WITH ME LOVE ERR HAHA GOT A 5P HERE HAHA ANOTHER TWO 10P’S HAHA AHHHH ERM OH LOOK THERE’S A 20P HERE HAHA A FEW COPPERS HAHA OH ERR ANOTHER 20P HAHA AYE I’VE GOT A BUS TICKET HERE AS WELL IT’S A RETURN TICKET IF THAT’S ANY USE FOR YOU LIKE HAHA YOU COULD GO TO NELSON WITH THIS HAHA THAT’S GOT TO BE WORTH A FEW QUID BABES HAHA IMAGINE ALL THE THINGS YOU COULD DO IN NELSON HAHA AH MAYBE WE COULD GO TOGETHER LOVE? I’D HAVE TO WALK LIKE SINCE YOU’RE USING THE TICKET BUT NO WORRIES LOVE WE COULD JUST MEET UP SOMEWHERE HAHA AH NAH DON’T TELL THE BOUNCERS LOVE I DON’T WANT ANY TROUBLE, MAYBE WE COULD JUST TALK BABES HAHA YOU KNOW I WON’T EVEN HAVE THE LAP DANCE HAHA WE’VE GOT ABOUT £2.45 ALL TOGETHER HERE LOVE THAT’S GOT TO BE WORTH SOMETHING MAYBE WE COULD JUST HAVE A CHAT HAHA, DO YOU HAVE FACEBOOK BABES? OR BEBO? MAYBE YOU COULD JUST SEND ME A TWEET LIKE HAHA A NICE SEXY TWEET THAT’S GOT TO BE WORTH £2.45 LOVE AINT IT HAHA I WISH I COULD GET PAID THAT MUCH FOR A TWEET OH NO LADS NO DON’T HIT ME LADS COME ON LADS PLEASE NO….ARGHHHHHHHHH’.

Joey Loser once again gets flung out in the street, jobseeker forms falling in to a filthy puddle; he decides to call it a night. Joey sets up home next to a pile of wheelie bins and has himself a wee nap, since he has to get up for the dole in a few hours anyway. Looks like things have worked out pretty nicely for ol’ Joey Loser.

Well that’s all for this week lads. I could rant on for a few more thousand words but there’s only so much satirical, bitterness I can dish out in one day. In other news I have just finished the 4^th draft of my first full length novel, ‘Elephant in the Room’ so hoping to send that off to the publishers before the end of the year. Check out any news on my facebook page, become a fan why don’t you.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Joe-Luka/159140123120?ref=ts

That last part was serious by the way; I know it’s incredibly hard to tell when I’m taking the piss. Keep the faith.

Yours in love and poverty.

Lukat