It occurred to me this afternoon that people in general, not just zombies, are unreasonable most of the time. No matter what their circumstances, the fact is, people moan and whine on and blame other people for just about everything.
Today is my fortnightly appointment at the Southend job centre, an appointment god only knows why I keep considering I don’t receive anything in return.
So I’m sat there, waiting for my turn to be interrogated by the Gestapo when I suddenly realise that either 1. The world has come to an abrupt end 2. I’ve just happened across the entire cast of a Michael Jackson ‘Thriller’ tribute group or 3. The interplanetary time continuum device I’ve been working on for some time, is now working and I’ve just landed on f*cking Mars.
It really is a f*cking disgrace down there on a Tuesday afternoon. At one point, a fairly pleasant but unfairly reeking of stale fags and alcohol person sat next to me. Now it occurs to me at that moment in time that I’ve got hold of the shitty end of the stick, because while I’m having to endure his horrendous stench, he’s breathing in my f*cking expensive aftershave. That last statement pretty much sums up my time in the Southend job centre, because unless you smell horrendous and look like shit, you will never get to experience the sweet smell of a benefit cheque.
My attention is then drawn to one particular zombie because she feels as though she’s been hard done to and the staff are being unreasonable, and she wants everyone to know about it. Now, back to my point, this woman turns up looking like she’s just been f*cking dug up, is obviously high on one thing or another, and is stumbling about the place moaning and f*cking whining as if to say ‘I’m doing my best here to get a job and no-one is helping’. She’s acting like the Alzheimer’s patient that’s just left the house, gone shopping and dropped into the post office to pay some bills and hasn’t yet realised his f*cking pants are at home.
In all honesty, the only jobs befitting her current state would be that of a human riot shield or better still, a British infantrywoman serving in Afghanistan. If only the Taliban were to think for a second that the entire British infantry had been zombified as part of some military experiment, I can’t imagine they’d be f*cking stupid enough to carry on with their antics. It’s perfect – spread the rumour of the zombie army, commandeer the cinemas in Kabul and then play back to back the films ’28 Days Later’, ‘Day of the Dead’, ‘Dawn of the Living Dead’ and ‘Shaun of the Dead’. I’ve included ‘Shaun of the Dead’ to F*ck with the Taliban’s heads because they wouldn’t know whether to laugh or f*cking cry at that point. Win the War.
Michael