Beestonia Makes a Lifestyle Choice / Curse Strikes Again/ Cats? Evil. Soon.

Yup, I’m still here. It’s a bit embarrassing cos loads of lovely people have sent me loads of lovely messages saying tarah, yet I’m still here. I feel like Shirley Bassey embarking on another comeback tour days after she finishes her Farewell tour. Sorry for that.


Sometimes though, one must write. I am presently in a rather weird position of working (albeit on a very short-term contract) while also being dragged through the Kafka-esque nightmare that is Going On The Dole. This is a process I don’t recommend, that involves ringing a number for half an hour, attending a meeting where a soul-sapped civil servant will do their best to not make you feel like dirt, filling in so many forms your wrist ends up feeling like a dodgy masseuse going for the happy-finish record, and then recieving 50 quid a week for your efforts. This will just about cover my phone/utility bills, and leave £1.60 for a trip to Nottingham to attend JobSeek meetings. Food? My garden  is still knocking out a few spuds, and a bit of beetroot, so I’ll be eating Irish/Polish fusion for the next few weeks. Anything else in life will have to be begged for, stolen, or donated. 

This is apparently ok though, and I should not only be humble, but overjoyed that I have made a lifestyle choice. According to our beloved Chancellor, Gideon Osborne, I am like this because I choose to be, and am purposely milking for the dole cos I am so slovenly I want to milk the state to fund my luxurious, idle lifestyle. A lifestyle choice.

Oh, Lord Beestonia, we’ve read the stories of those who milk the social for personal gain, feigning illness and injury, falsifying their details to grab more dough, working the system and thus playing it efficently and ruthlessly to drain the Treasury….yeah, me too, but  I must remind you that Gideon was not talking about these people.

 Nope. He was talking about people like myself who have to slip off the fraying tight-rope of employment into the safety-net they’ve spent their working lives threading, to feel little bounce. People who, like me don’t have savings (Gideon has around £4,000,000 , plus lots more in trusts he will get soon, I have an overdraft that costs three figures a month to service.) People, like me, who can’t rely on an Eton bought education  dropping  into any job you fancy. People like me who deeply hate their situation,people like me that have been working their scrawnt arses off for many years(age 12, paperround, age 15, Saturday boy, postman, cheesemaker, writer, holiday rep, barman, magazine salesman, an on, and on…) people like me who, if they do lounge in bed well after the working populace are  trundling, disgruntled down the commuter trails to work, do so because they’ve spent the night trying to work out what the fuck they are trying to do, staring at the dark ceiling trying to work out how they can escape, endlessly switching pillows and turning the duvet as if it might answer that nagging, biting anxiety that scratches at the mind and sweats the physique….thanks Gideon. Its a lifestyle choice. Come and try it, Beestonians. This Government might make that less a choice and more an inevitability for you soon.


 Curse of Beestonia strikes again: you must have known the moment I shook hands with Dan/ Dave Miliband he was cursed. At the time he was by a long way the front runner till I cursed him with a handshake. Now hes thrust, biblically, into the nether-lands of the Neo-New Labour Hinterlands.


Ah, Lord Beestonia, my liege, how about the fact you met Diane Abbot? Well, yes. She came last. Soz, Di.


Lots more to write about, including my long standing investigation provisionally entitled ‘CATS: ARE THEY TRULY EVIL?’ (yes) and a good story I got from Ryland’s hero Steve Barber. Coming soon, to a crap blog near you. Don’t go changing now….