2nd December 2012

2nd December 2012

Beloved Dave,

I am so sorry that I was unable to write to you yesterday.  I am ashamed to admit that the benefit “lifestyle” really is as wonderful as Freud and Osborne think, because I went on my second exotic holiday of the year.  (The first was camping in Wales, which cost me a whopping £20.  My Mother paid for the rest.)  Yesterday I went to Birmingham for the day, also paid for by my Mother, but this time I went with £40 of tax payer money.  I had intended to do all of my Christmas shopping with it, but ended up spending it all on hookers and whizz.

I simply can’t tell you how bad I feel about this, Dave, and I do hope you forgive me.  I do try to live frugally and sensibly, but £100 a week is enough to send anyone on mad spending sprees for Audi Coupes, Sky TV packages and prostitutes.  The problem is that even if I were well enough to work, there’s simply no incentive for me to do so, as I know that even you cannot afford the luxuries of the unemployed.

Yours, ruefully,

Katy Anchant

PS. I bet you must be kicking yourself that this lie detection thing in Southwark wasn’t your idea. Analysing people’s voices for signs of stress – genius!  I mean, there’s no way anyone would feel stressed talking about their benefits claim unless they were lying, right? 😉

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