Boy came round for supper…
We shared a four quid Asda Chinese for two…
Following consumption, and indeed now, some eight hours later the bottom burping continues.
One can but assume the main ingredient was three quid’s worth of fart powder.
We fell into a massive rant about the state of the nation…
How can it be, Dear Reader, that the minimum wage, which is what One shall be collecting, is substantially lower than the living wage?
One knocked up a budget plan yesterday and One won’t even be earning enough to meet One’s meagre commitments. How’s that going to work then?
How come we’re not rioting in the streets?
Why do our political leaders think that the constant announcement that ‘our overseas aid budget is ring-fenced’ is of any importance to the people of this country who are struggling to survive on a daily basis?
Please, somebody wake me up when the revolution starts and if I’ve got the energy after a hard day’s care work, I’ll gladly join in.
Further proof of One’s identity is required for One’s new job…
A bank statement – One can do that
One’s marriage certificate – sadly destroyed in a Black Magic ritual in the back yard.