Night Jack* describes them thus....
The respectable working class according to Night Jack are defined by ‘lots of neat gardens, washing hung out to dry, hardly a piece of litter, happy laughing kids playing out, people washing their cars’.
The ‘evil poor’ on the other hand are:
"Kappa clad, drugged up, workshy, wasters swaggering through the town centre streets with a can of lager in the one hand and a bull mastiff on a string in the other.
They aren’t out looking for a job or a chance in life let alone a wash. They just want to get high, shag your 14 year old daughter until she is pregnant and nick your stuff. They are just looking to do you over, nick your stuff, sell you stolen stuff and drugs, take the next drugs and collect the next dole. The attendant girls
aren’t much better (Yes, if she couldn't sing, Amy Winehouse would be one of them, even with all her money she still manages to give the impression that she's a total chav.), shrieking complicit harpies who will all end up looking grey and faded round the edges, kicking dirty nappies out of the way to feed the dog in the kitchen of their two bedroom basic box flat on the grim estate where everything has been broken if it can’t be stolen. Sorry if that’s a bit bleak but it’s a lot true."Anyway, I digress, JK over with and another salutatory lesson learned about associating with the hard of thinking we embarked upon the days adventures:
First, a long walk for Monty with the kids running around the field, with him, quickly enough to meet me before I finish crossing the field. Hannah managed while Nat kept stopping to take photos with his N73, he plans to enter these into a wildlife photography competition on BBC 1's Country File programme.
Home, drink get the bikes, we're off to Brockington, Nat's new school, to see how long it takes to cycle there. Took about 30 minutes to get there slightly less to come home, there's a gentle upward incline on the way there.
Stopped at Borders for an hour on the way home. When we got home I made the kids toasted sandwiches using the new toasting bags, which worked OK, while I had a cheese and onion sandwich made with slices of one of our allotment onions....Jesus it was hot!
Tried to get some rest before work; no luck so now it's 02:04 am and I'm struggling to stay awake!
* a police detective who recently won the Orwell prize for blogging, a blog that is no longer on line since a Times journalist outed him, revealing his identity to the public and his employers. His local Police authority forced him to remove it. Shame on you The Times.
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