Dearest Peter, You're a fucking dickhead. How dare you have a job. How dare you have money from a job that you have. Who the fuck interviewed you? Who? Who in their right mind would offer a paying job... to you! Fuck you, Peter. Fuck you for having money that I know will go towards drugs. Not even good drugs. Fuck you for robbing other people despite the fact you have a job. Peter, I loathe you and I despise your employer. I'd turn you down if you applied for Oxfam, for christs' sake. You talentless prick. You unmotivated hoodrat. You fucking pansy-arsed twat. Also, Peter, you have a job. You have a job which you get money from. So, with this money, why do you still look like you've lived most of your life inside of a caravan. A shitty caravan. A shitty caravan... In a car park... In Hackney. Hackney! You've got less personality and character and intelligence and ambition than a rock. A shitty rock. In a car park. In Hackney. And yet you have a job... Whilst nice, hard-working, ambitious, clever, lovely people like me have no income to spend on good things... Like clothes, and hygiene. I'm too young to sign on, and why the fuck should I? Give me your job, Peter. You worthless piece of cytoplasm! I hate you so much, Peter.
From The Unemployed Majority
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2 comments:
"nice, hard-working, ambitious, clever, lovely people like me"
Oh, and you don't have a big ego and you're not a vain spiteful little whore/bastard.
If you want a job get your own. He's not in your job and the majority of people aren't unemployed.
You, however, are unemployed because you're a fucking moron dickhead with a bad attitude and a sense of self entitlement nobody would want to employ.
Have a nice day. x
I rather enjoyed reading this! Hackney! HACKNEY!!! well said.
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