Years before the Dole Army existed you could buy books like this, and the one written by some clown who’s last name was Barbour (I think) in all good and bad book shops around the place. I once met Barbour (God, what was his first name? Neil?) when I worked as a Professional Mouse Strangler at a radio station here. Barbour (was his first name John? Nope…) used to wander in, go to the toilet and write details of how and where to buy his self-published books on the wall. He’d also leave a steaming pile in the bowl as he didn’t believe in flushing (wasted water) or, one presumes, wiping his arse (waste of paper) which was evident by the lack of paper. To amuse ourselves we’d send in a work experience person who’d generally scream at the sight of a blind mullet winking at them and saying, “How ya doin’?”
Good times indeed. Anyway, Barbour (ahhh screw his first name, he was a wanker anyway) used to live in a tent in the hills and used to argue with members of the DSS about his residential address. The DSS never believed that a tent in the middle of a paddock was a proper residential address and Barbour couldn’t see why he shouldn’t get rent assistance on a tent in the middle of a paddock, a tent which he probably stole and never paid rent on anyway. Win-win for all. Still he did write and publish a similar book to this one, and if you can find a copy then hang onto it – it’s a ripper read.
And if you doubt me, just check out this sample chapter.
As Bob Hudson once sang, "It's a full time job, everyday of the week, Living it up on the dole!"