Three weeks on the dole and its as bad as everyone thinks, depression, sorrow, remorse and 5 hour long baths of tears.

But hey at least it allows me some good drinking and smoking time to myself, you can buy livers and lungs off ebay right?

Everyday is the same, another day in paradise you could call it but then again its not the 1980s and I'm not Phil Collins, the Multi millionaire pretending to care about the homeless to make some more millions. Instead, I am the soon to be homeless robbing Phil Collins house for his millions(I hear he has bad hearing, should be dead easy).

The morning is cigarette and coffee and watching depressingly out my cell window as all the work slaves put on their finely tailored shackles to work. Watching them go, looking forward to their sushi and lattes for lunch rather than my cold baked beans out of a can (dole money dont go far brothers and sisters). An hour of this depressing scene and then its cigarette, coffee and a drop of whisky just for fun.

The first online applications are for those high paid jobs you really think you can do and deserve because your skills are high and the day is young. The cover letters attached to the CV consist of articulate and well judged explanations of your skills mixed with utter and complete lies and bullshit.

It goes something like this:

'I am your ideal researcher because I am deeply committed to womens issues, in particular the importance of developing the transparency of domestic violence in the modern political conversation. I have an intense interest and knowledge of female social commentators such as Ann Oakley and a fan of feminist literature such as Kate Chopin.'

You take up your morning doing this without reply or phone call so you take the odd two fingers of alcohol to keep you breezy and the odd pack of cigarettes to stop the panic starting.

Then its applications to all those jobs you dont really want but are qualified for if your slight bullshit in CVs is to be believed.

'My ideal career is being an administrator and I long to forward and establish my working life in this area. As you can see I have extensive experience in admin in many different industries and feel that I can "hit the ground running" with your carpet company.'

Of course this should be read as I have lots of experience in administration due to bouts of unemployment were I panicked and applied for anything and got stuck with a bloody administrator job. I am fully qualified for this job as I am not a moron and believe myself to be a semi expert on the alphabet enough to type addresses into a computer and know how to push a button on a fucking copier.

Now its time for lunch which comes down to said baked beans out of a can and that 19p coke they have in supermarkets that when you look into its fizzy blackness all you see is death...you know for energy.

Then its a little rest, cigarette, shot of whisky and the half-hearted suicide attempt before its back for the afternoon shift.

Afternoon shift is always the same, I am already pretty depressed from not hearing from the womens rights people and others and just a bit tight from the alcohol to not be able to express coherent thoughts.

So applying turns into the fun copy and paste game where I copy vague cover letter to my CV and apply for a hundred odd jobs in 10 minutes and just hope one sticks.

By this stage you might think I would be happy as I applied for about 500 hundred jobs today but as I havent got an email or phonecall from anyone to tell me I'm pretty, let alone a job offer I tend to get abit down.

Metaphorically, depression has been paid a little visit from her boyfriend alcohol at 3am with some weed, tequila and banana favoured condoms and is ready to get fucked up as much as possible.

So you can understand that the job applications at this point get a bit obscure.

'Jobs are there to be worked, I am not working, therefore I am not a job.

Yours sincerely?'

So by the time it reaches 3pm-5pm, preminum response time for job applications before all the recruitment agents go home and actually sleep at night (horrible thought), I have developed a drinking game on response emails and phone calls to keep me a little more sane.

So get a bottle of spirit of your choice (mine is whisky), a few cans of beers (my choice is Guinness) and some cigerettes for good measure (if you dont smoke get some vinegar and down it everytime I say smoke, you dirty devils)

First, for every recruitment letter you get that says, 'we are processing your application but if you dont hear from us in one week go fuck yourself' then take a sip of beer.

Secondly, the next stage as you progress is the copy and pasted recruitment agent rejection emails with the large 'Unfortunately' smacked right in the middle, take two fingers of whisky. After ten of these (because lets face it nothing gives those pricks more satisfaction than to send these emails) smoke a cigarette and look at the sky so you can get some perspective of what is important- the beauty of life..... or after a month of unemployment finding out where Phil Collins lives.

Third step, if you get a recruitment agent ring you by telling you you applied for a job without telling which job it was you applied for, just assuming you have been waiting around for days for this one position, then immediately take a shot of whisky before continuing the conversation. Maybe after you finish the call you might wanna have a shower too because talking to a recruitment agent will make you feel dirty and used.

Fourth stage, by now you are probably a bit drunk and worse for wear so let me just say that you are a gorgeous person inside and out and deserve whatever job you want and next time you see someone who is unemployed then say the same to them.

By this stage, its probably 5pm and the end of the game so be happy in the knowledge that you are probably tipsy enough to fight off depression for the night and that in the long term the serious drinking problem you are brewing will lead to a better benefits package from the government.

For all those lucky few that got interviews for a job, you must take a penalty of downing the rest of the whisky so to kill enough of your braincells so that you have absolutely no chance of getting your job and make the rest of us feel better.

You dont want to be the lonely person with a job whilst everyone else is having such a party unemployed. For life is just a popularity contest and you are losing badly.

So there we go, the end of the drinking game. Please repeat ad nauseum or until you are nauseous.

I hoped you liked the 'Love is on the dole' Drinking game and I further hope that it takes off in popularity and one day maybe takes over from monopoly as Britains best loved game.

This is mainly because bankers have been playing Monopoly for far too long with our money and thats what has gotten us all into this mess in the first place.

Ever feel like you are being cheated?