Here Dimla

Well, it was fun yesterday, jawling down to the dole office, kek all in my pocket, the same in the bank, and no chance of a job. All the dimlas behind the desks looked like the had just lost a flag, try it will bugger all, cheer up you moody gets. You would think they was on the other side, rather than dishing out the joy.
So, after a few minutes with those dimlas, a dilatry looking sod walks in, dear did he candie, you would think some are allergic to soap and water. I think i knew him, same school. I think some of these behind the desks, need to have the old PC powered by a treadmill, that and limit the fodda on the desks.
Walking into town to grab a brew and a chat with a pal, through the square, being asked ‘who would you like for PM’ and me saying ‘how about bagpus’. They call all rocker on try to convert us before Thursday. Asking em for a tuvler though and they look at you gone out. Don’t they speak the queens english, ffs. By Friday, no sod will want to know us again, let alone sort out this mess with work.
It’s the same old, same old, no sod wants to know you, no luvva, little scran, at least the mot is cheap n cheerful, you just need keep an eye out for the juvvas.


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