I hate

ha! I just read this after forcing my carcass down the shop for food (no fun cooking for one : (
I didn’t hate chatting to the sweetie next to me in the queue who was buying steak and ben and jerries...
Will the problem is with place, join the bourgeois and skip round waitrose for what you want, then nip round the back and plunder the bins for veg and short life stuff, garuntee you no such tribulations as no reasons to shop at morrisons...

Are you fucking mad? You want me to start eating out of bins? It's not bad enough that at work I look and smell like a tramp now I have to start eating like one as well? And try to brush over this ultimate sign of life-failure by calling myself a Freegan? Why not change my name to George Costanza while I am at it? Or start hanging round the school gates whilest spit dribbles from the side of my leering mouth on to my copy of Top Gear magazine? I know, why don't I become a street entertainer.