"Grr....must destroy capitalism" |
You’d want to blind deaf and living under a rock somewhere not to be aware of the impending apocalypse.
Well according to the media anyway. You can’t turn on a radio, open a paper or switch on the television without being confronted by our impending doom. So whats it all about? Basically we’re all fucked. Buy your ferry ticket now for the building sites in London or hop on the next coffin ship to Yankee land and start sending home money to the mammy and daddy.
We’ve had so good for so long that people, like this young hack don’t know what its like to make a tea bag last more than one cup.
Unemployment is up, which means that going on the dole doesn’t have the same stigma attached to it as it once did. Shur it’s the economy’s fault. Beyond your control. Just go with it. Lets be honest with ourselves, we’d all like to go on the dole. Sitting at home all day watching repeats of Judge Judy and Murder She Wrote on the plasma (providing you haven’t sold it to put shoes on the kids)
So you have to cut down on the mochas and stop spending your weight in alcohol at the weekend. Big deal.
You’re missing the advantages of the months ahead. We can start becoming nostalgic and yearning for the “good ole days”. We have to make the best of a bad situation. Whats wrong with sitting in the pub, nursing the same half pint for two hours, in the jumper granny knitted for ya, talking about the time you went “mad” and bought that limited edition mobile phone that cost E400 that everyone seemed to have.
Who remembers “The Van” or the Commitments? Remember how much fun they had in those films? It can be like that again. We can all be wheeler-dealers and look for the next way to make a quick buck. The streets will be lined with jazz singing chip vans. Tasty and musical!
We’ll also become friendlier with the neighbours. Who else are you going to ask for a cup of moisturiser when you’ve run out and need to look fantastic for the interview that could be “it”.
Also the national football team might start performing. We’re always banging on about the golden age of Irish soccer when some tall chap from Donegal stopped an Italian lad scoring a goal. Jesus, we never shut up about that. This golden age happened when the country was begging for money all over Europe. With the neo-recession on its way, maybe we’ll start winning matches again. Here’s hoping, anyway.
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