I lived in a shed.
Because I lived anywhere other than a tent, the "authorities" felt fit to send me a letter. It was from the TV Licensing Authority.
I hate the words Licensing and Authority.
I threw it in the bin.
I had several more such letters. I threw them all in the bin.
Eventually I had a "form". The "authorities" like a "form".
It had a list of reasons, which I could tick, why I didn't have a TV licence. None of them were the reason why I didn't have one.
I was eventually summonsed to appear in court, confronted by a magistrate (dickhead) and some representatives of the law of this fair country, and some cunt from the TV Licensing Fiasco.
The questioning commenced. I shall spare you the stupidity; suffice to say it turned to me, and I was asked why I had not responded and/or paid up.
I stated, simply, to the mag, "I haven't got a television, and the onus is not upon me to prove otherwise."
The mag looked over his glasses to the legalese titfucks assembled, and I was awarded handsome expenses.
So fuck you. You do NOT HAVE TO HAVE A TELLY. You do NOT HAVE TO PROVE YOU HAVE A LIFE.
End of rant.