My New Job

As the title suggests I have managed to get myself a new job, I am now shifting stock and answering customer questions in Waterstones. I think the official title is ‘Book monkey’, if its not, well it fucking should be! It pays less than Job Centre Plus, but I have to deal with so much less shit and I don’t feel like my employers are masturbating at the thought of how much of my time they managed to waste this week. This new normal waking hours routine however, is a bit tricky, I was not even aware that seven in the morning still existed. Fortunately after a bus ride into town, I have time enough to start my day with a life giving coffee. I’m home before lunch, but this suits me I have enough to subsist on and I’m able to get work done in the afternoons, also the gym soon as I adjust to these freaking working hours that the rest of civilisation seem to think is a good idea.

Marvel, goodbye old friend

Marvel, love of my life has just been torn away by the fucking mouse. In a move no one saw coming Disney snagged Marvel comics for about 2 billion pounds causing the marvel shareholders to cum in their pants at that 30% increase in share price. Disney, home of tween fodder and mediocrity released statements about how it wanted to diversify. If that was the case then they would have diversified. Buying another company with lots of new copyrights to exploit is not diversification it is soulless profiteering. It is not all bad people say, Look at DC are they not owned by the mighty Time Warner AOL (lord of slow internet) yes DC are owned by Time Warner AOL, it is what facilitate mature comic book lines like Vertigo, allowing low selling titles to build up a fan base, and make a profit off TPB’s in the long run. But this is what made Marvel special, DC was always safer, an this was reflected in its stories. Marvel, had to be more dynamic, had to take risks and to be honest they did not always pay off (cough *clone saga* cough) but when they did, they changed things. Now Marvel has the wallet of that gutless shite factory penetrating its rear, will its stories ever be the same? The other argument being that print is dyi Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Sorry, I’ve just heard that so many times before, prints is not dead or dying, if the electronic medium was so vastly superiour, all sports leauges would be replaced by 20 guys an X-box, that would be cost effective.

Tonight, like last night, I go to bed angry, I’m not against change, this isnt about change, its about the school yard bully coming over an wiping its arse with my safety blanket.

Time to kill.

As it turns out, the grandfather paradox only works if you kill him before your parents are born. Regular weekdays seem not to work. Well, at least the birds now have something to feed on.

My progress in CSS

For those of you who do not know me I have had the recant misfortune to have moved back in with the folks. Something I needed to do, thank you credit crunch, while I try to figure out CSS, build my website and get the fuck out of dodge with a job, some self respect an possibly a woman. However I might have to resort to kidnap for that last one. Staring really hard at the software just seems to give me a nosebleed and no amount of cursing seems to alter the code in any way. I have even tired sacrificing small animals at the alter of my iMac, all that does is leave a mess and make the desk taste like iron. Also Timmy (age 5 and a 1/2) from next door wont shut up about his missing cat.

Out with the old in with the new shit…

Pinch me, go on please, I need to make sure this is not some crazy serotonin induced trip I’m on. Not only has Jo ‘I’m speshul, I can talk out of my arse’ Whiley been given her marching orders but Edith ‘face for radio, shame I lack the talent for that as well’ Bowman have both been booted from their Radio One daytime slots.

Granted I dislike the reason they went. The excuse being ‘they got to old’ I fail to see the point of marketing to young people, the BBC is licence fee paid and most young people could not find their arse with a map and then go buy dance music. However I’m informed that when begging, your choices are somewhat limited. But these pair of shitehawks have been clogging up daytime radio for far to long now. Whiley’s talent for spotting new music is no more than rampant bandwagon jumping and Bowman just proved that the talented pair of Edith and Colin was really just the talented Colin.

DJ’s who are so self involved that if cloning was a reality, the first thing they would do is go home and fuck themselves, really need to be torn for our airwaves, it sets an example that mediocrity is something to aspire to, something that gets rewarded. Anyway, now is not the time for anger, just quiet reflection and contemplation of the new posibilities. Hold on who did you say was replasing them?

Fearne Cotton and Greg James!

FUCK!

Mediocrity, down, but never out.

Job hunting

Back from my hiatus, no longer lost in my own thoughts but ever watchful the people of North Wales do not eat me alive. This weekend I started building myself a new website, which just compounds my feeling of disgust towards UWIC, these things should have been taught to us for more than one afternoon two years ago. My website will go up, I will get a job and I wont owe a single thing to my education that cost nearly 10 grand.

Hipsters, please die.

A brand of clothing now exists that offence almost every principle I hold. Babycakes is a pretentious by a hipster for I’m so trendy cool bunch of arse licking trendy twat faced cunt hipsters. The banal simple bright colurs lifts from the new rave hipster young person over commercialised culture that is rotting our society from within. Babycakes are for people who bought their individuality on the racks at Topshop

Marketed with such tag lines as

-People That wear Babycakes are better than people who don’t wear Babycakes
-BabyCakes is better than your Boyfriend
-Babycake Kids beat up Ugly kids.

Have you people seen yourselves, most 12 year olds have bigger arms.

Yes, the final project is in and I’m back

licking woodland creatures.

I’m only a few scant months away from being thrust into the real world. This means I have to make a list of all the potential bosses I’d be willing to sleep with in order to get a job. I wonder, does the Swedish volleyball team have a graphic design wing? Not only do I have to limp my way to the end of the degree but prepare myself for entry into the great unwashed as well. The fact I returned to education to give myself a shot at getting a job in an industry I wanted to work in, only to have the economy breakdown, the taste that leaves in my mouth is like what I imagine licking the wrong end of a woodland creature would be like.

Cake.

My current project sees me trying to bring down organised religion. I have already upset one friend, but thankfully I made things right with cake, if only the UN served more cake things would be okay. In the words of the great Izzard, Cake or Death, I’ll have Cake please.

Anything less than factor 50…

Summer is nearly here, yes time to start melting anti-histamines on a spoon and injecting them into your eyeballs. I love hayfever. Nonetheless what with our slightly warmer rain (the Great British sign of summertime) those of us who suffer the sneezy curse may be dealt a hand of seasonal mercy, handed to us from the oppressive rain clouds that doom our bank holiday weekends and allow us hayfever types to enjoy summer in our own way. My friends may mock my love of the great indoors and my consistent sun dodging, however when they all have melanomas the size of a small dog, I’ll be laughing my pasty white arse off.