Blues versus Black Dogs

I was thinking about posting 'training tips' while at Bazza's Boot Camp, ya know, now I've finished the walk but nah, instead I treat you to the Blues versus Black Dog.

Yesterday, I swept away my post training/fundraising good fun Big Night Walk blues.

Today I thought I'd stamp out any blues residues.

Thanks to my son, there were none to stamp out.

You can't stamp out a Black Dog though, no, that's cruelty to animals that is.

My Black Dog is wearing a collar with 'Housing' etched onto it. Of course I didn't feel its presence on the actual walk, possibly because it was in good company with other Black Dogs, leaving me free and light.

Black Dog was at Bazza's Boot Camp. I took no notice as I struggled with the kick sequences (a shot and two fags not the best start methinks). I was partnered with the Master. No rest with the Master.

Later a Mistress knelt on my shoulders and strangled me. It was my job to heave her off and whack her in the groin. She was light but I was crap so we laughed.

It was a good class.

Got home and got a call from Billie. She's bored and wants to get a job (you see, single mothers don't have to be punitively forced into it you know nothing politicians).

We got onto housing and I heard the Black Dog growl.

Billie means well, she does. I don't need to be told though, that others have a greater need than me; others who have five children squished into a 2 bed; others who have two or three kids also struggling with a possession notice.

Like me though, Billie has one child.
"They don't give us priority because we only have one child," she says. "We don't have more, we don't have a partner. It's so wrong. I'm thinking of starting smoking I'm so stressed about it."

"I can't advise you on that," I reply, while thinking 'blessed fags blessed fags'. "Tell you not to when I do it myself. But I honestly don't know what we did wrong having a baby. I don't know what we're doing wrong by not having any more. I don't know what we're doing wrong not adding weight to the state. "

The Black Dog started barking and just as she said "Sue I need your advice yeah, I want to get into housing and social care," the line broke (the monkey got choked and we both sank together in our little rowing boats clap clap can't I'm drowning clap clap).

My Black Dog is fucking heavy. Bazza's Boot Camp is tough. I am weak but the Master did say my kicks were strong today.

For medicinal reasons I shall continue to go to Bazza's Boot Camp, so that I may match the Dog's strength so that when the time comes I am strong enough to punch and kick my way to a secure home for my son.

So come now Doggie Doggie, calm down. I'm going to have a cigarette and then we are going to sit on the carpet and have a Zen moment together. OK?