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God Save Us From The DWP

I wish I could be as optimistic and hopeful as the Department of Work and Pensions sometimes. After taking 8 months to decide whether my multiple, permanent, sometimes degenerative disabilities actually make me disabled a little over a year and a half ago, they've sent me another 40 page booklet to fill in just incase my multiple, PERMANENT, sometimes degenerative disabilities have been cured in that small space of time. You know, just in case.

I'd be less annoyed if I'd been allowed more than 2 sentences of complaining about it before my dad tells me to shut up and 'just fill the bloody things in'. Yeah, in case I decided that I didn't need an income to live on after all, I'd just not fill in the forms again and survive entirely on the limited fund my mum has... just like you, dad!

Arsehole.

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