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The Weakness of The Working Class


Dougie Do'ins
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6 minutes ago, General Dryness said:

Just the sight of the bottle makes my skin crawl. Many a skint night in as a student was spent in the embrace of Lady Lightning. Cider that had never even been within touching distance of an apple. Yummy.

Think I only ever drunk when I was about 13 or 14, in its natural habitat, a park. 

 

Moved up in the world after that. Drinking neat Chekov and Kommissar vodka. Delicious.

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1 minute ago, Jairzinho said:

Think I only ever drunk it in its natural habitat, a park. The drink of choice for 14 year olds. 

 

Moved up in the world after that. Drinking neat Chekov and Kommissar vodka. Delicious.



Or, if you're lucky, lukewarm Bacardi breezers.

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22 minutes ago, Jairzinho said:

Think I only ever drunk when I was about 13 or 14, in its natural habitat, a park. 

 

Moved up in the world after that. Drinking neat Chekov and Kommissar vodka. Delicious.

 

Was white lightening to start with until we started going to Devon every summer and then we progressed to this. 

 

 

DDBF07B0-945A-4536-AA62-67ABB9861089.jpeg

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When I was 14 you used to be able to get 2 bottles of Merrydown for a fiver from an offy who would happily serve alcohol to children. My parents used to give me a quid a day in the week for lunch from the chippy.

 

Having gone hungry at school all week first time I went to this offy on a Friday night, I drank both bottles as quickly as humanly possible before spewing my ring up absolutely everywhere, fingering someone who looked like Anne off the Chase and then getting arrested. 

 

In many ways, life since has just been one long, slow decline.

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23 hours ago, AngryofTuebrook said:

That was the cunt's masterstroke.  It achieved a few things: probably the first one the Tories were aiming for was to give a boost to the property speculation market, by creating scarcity and artificially driving up prices; it also helped to undermine feelings of belonging to a society, by encouraging individual homeowners to believe that they'd achieved that status through talent and hard work - and to promote their aspirations to acquire more and more shit - and that they shared no bond of solidarity with other atomised individual homeowners (let alone the poor saps who can't afford their own home); finally, it also gave the working classes something to lose - if a Council tenant fell behind on the rent after walking out on an exploitative employer, they wouldn't be made homeless, whereas the fear for a mortgage-paying homeowner is that the loss of employment (however shit that employment is) can lead to the loss of your home.

 

I don't think any other other Tory policy has done so much to diminish working-class solidarity and confidence.

Agreed, but it has also been a goldmine for some in London and the South East.  

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It goes beyond class. Familiarity breeds contempt. The human condition.

I watched my Dad go from a young, robust, methodical, practical husband, father, who was an organiser of his life, and protector of his family - to an aged, infirm shadow of his former glory. A Man struggling to have any interest in his surroundings at 83. We held hands as he died.

I watched my Mum do the same, as we too, held hands and she drew her final breath.

Nobody get's out alive. Not having much of anything, might just make it easier to let go, at the end? I don't know. Belongings lose their value to our eyes as the life seeps out of us. Aging and dying takes heroism. We're all heroes. We're all figuring out how to do it in a way that allows us to live with ourselves for as long as we can.

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12 hours ago, Lizzie Birdsworths Wrinkled Chopper said:

When I was 14 you used to be able to get 2 bottles of Merrydown for a fiver from an offy who would happily serve alcohol to children. My parents used to give me a quid a day in the week for lunch from the chippy.

 

Having gone hungry at school all week first time I went to this offy on a Friday night, I drank both bottles as quickly as humanly possible before spewing my ring up absolutely everywhere, fingering someone who looked like Anne off the Chase and then getting arrested. 

 

In many ways, life since has just been one long, slow decline.

Exactly same. Went with some right crackers including carpet woman ( so called as her coat looked like it was a used carpet pulled off a tip) and bulldog ( looked like a bulldog)

All downhill since then

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