Goodbye, 2015!

I've been living in the UK for more than a half decade now! Can you believe it? Man, time is flying! And things could only be worse if I had cancer and lived under a bridge right now. Merry Christmas!

Five years of working our asses off, which usually includes saturdays and sundays. Heck, Claire is working right the fuck now and my next article is due in the first week of January. And guess what? We're not a single step closer to that marriage we may as well give up on planning, we haven't been on a single vacation and I haven't seen a single square mile of this fucking island, which isn't part of our daily trip to Farm Foods.

But that's our own fault, because we blew all our hard-earned cash on fancy Nintendo toys this year, right? Yeah well, I had work days in November, which started at 9am and ended sometime around 1am in order to afford that shit. And guess what? Claire and I gave each other NOTHING, nada, zilch for Christmas or our birthdays in 2014 or 2013, because we had to save all our pennies to pay a guy for shoving cotton up my dead father's ass, so the family could look at him one last time before they put him in a vase. Because enbalming isn't just fucking pointless, it's also ridiculously expensive.

So here's to the next 5 years with no hope for change, no future and no proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, because we live in a day and age where 70 Euro a page is considered fair pay for freelance writers. Because unreliable assholes with zero talent are okay with these wages and they'll also do it for less. Hurray! Hey, maybe I'll just fart out some stolen, badly-researched news articles at 3 Euros a pop and "if I offer you six, you should consider it a favour, not an insult, but we'll have to renegotiate afterwards" you stupid, fucking, greedy bastards!

Here's to another year of 7 days work a week, taking all the shit and the scraps nobody else wants, getting by on 800 Quid per month and whatever working tax credit the Tories say I deserve. It's not like I need fair pay or a vacation, seeing as tinned and frozen foods are getting better and better each year and I can see most of the countryside on tv, anyway. And it's not like our 7 year engagement looks like a total joke or something. Ho, ho, fucking ho. Happy Christmas, you cunts!