Blogging Bored

Time to kill…

What a jammy f*cker!

I opened up my browser today in the afternoon – I don’t have Google as a homepage because it was so nice to me for many years and then became a portal for cyber rape of my computer by ne’er do wells.  Is MSN now, I know, financial rape by a multinational, before anyone points it out, I know, oooh dirty man Bill Gates.  They’re all bastards, I KNOW!

Anyway, the MSN home page, normally there for decoration i.e. I normally ignore it, don’t even look or glance at it, because it is normally Katie Price’s streaky mascara ravaged face or Peter Andre’s smug mug on it. It’s normally an open browser and move on scenario.  Anyway, a link to a video caught my eye, Stuart Tinner, wins £250,000 for kicking a rugby ball from thirty metres and hitting the horizontal bar on the uprights at last night’s Saracens vs. South Africa match at Wembley Stadium.

I mean really, how does that happen?  A guy who works in a job centre, yes the place that is the bane and scourge of my life, from Welwyn (shit hole) of all places gets a quarter million – on retrospect I suppose he deserves it!  Not only that but the unassuming geeky looking fellow then had all the Saracens’ cheerleaders stop just short of bundling him.  Well Mr. Tinner welcome to the world of minor fame and an abundance of pussy!  Oh yeah and ‘lend us a bag of sand mate’, you’ll be hearing that a lot.

In the words or Rod Stewart Some Guys Have All the Luck….

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I’ve been dumped!

Is it just me or once you finish university or a post graduate course you find yourself dumped like the infamous ‘redheaded stepchild’?  Once the government has finished plying you with student loans and the ‘education, education, education’ tag line of the 1997 Labour party campaign you’re left to fend for yourself.  In this climate every fucker abandons you!  “Yes sir, regarding your overdraft with us, we will start charging an interest rate on your borrowing over £1,000…” etc etc.  Pay you interest?!  Must be having a bloody laugh, I graduated in July; I ain’t even got a job!  Join the back of the queue.  What’s that?  You want me to fill in a customer satisfaction form – Now you really are taking the piss.  Side-stepped that one, don’t think expletives would be acceptable in those sorts of forms, telling them that most of them got bailed out by my hard earned taxes, which surely should be used to make education more accessible, not fucking bailing out a load of incapable bankers!  Bonuses?!  Fuck right off – does it ever feel that you are being asked to bend over, spread your cheeks and take it like a man sans lube?

Then the Student Loans Company, who were quite happy to keep you suckling, blissfully unaware, on their teat for however many years that you studied, with you thinking it was a bloody good idea at the time, bail on you too!  Here’s a scenario, “Ah yes.  It seems we might have overpaid you your maintenance grant/student loan (delete as applicable) and now we want it back, all at once preferably”  WHAT?! Come again!  I thought I filled ALL those bloody reams of forms so you didn’t do that!  What do they do up there?  They might as well leave a big pile of cash up in Glasgow, which you access with a student card and all you do is leave an I O U.  They’re already in to you for however many thousands of pounds, just lump your accounting error in with that.  Bastards!

I won’t even go into credit cards – ain’t even worth it…

All I can say is thank God for guest lists to Halloween parties in strip clubs!  Makes life go on that little bit easier – let the weekend wash over you, do nothing! Next week will provide you with yet more headaches and inescapable depression!

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Signed on today

Job centres are, to me, interesting places. I know it’s a pain in the arse going there at 0926 every other Tuesday morning. I know; exactly what I thought – 09:26 am PRECISELY, fear not, it’s not the time you’re gonna get seen of course. I mean it is bad enough having to go in there in first place. Then to have to wait until 0940 to be seen. Then to be told that my job search diary is fine and ‘all in order’, of course it is!!!! I am looking for work, I am an educated person, and I want a fucking job! So I don’t have to fucking come here to be patronised and be told what time I have to be here to the fucking minute.  I was discussing this with a friend of mine yesterday.  Not only is it bad enough that I have to go to this dump and be patronised by the person I swear was looking for work here the other day and is now helping other people to find work!  How insignificant each person who comes in here must be – we’re all minutes on a clock, just statistics now, surely to be bandied about by politicians fighting a PR battle to get the POWER, the power to fuck it all up again – to be defined in history by what mistakes your party made during their tenure.  I am a statistic.

You want to know statistics – the woman who told me my job searches were ‘in order’ should be made to read the Financial Times or some such economical digest to bring her up to date with what is going on in the economy.  Telling me that things are ‘picking up’, do you not know that we are heading for a period of deflation, the longest period of negative growth since 1955, since records began.  Far from picking up – hold tight, things will only get worse.

Anyway, I digress, job centres, interesting places, yes, what a cross section of British society.  the man in the corner with ‘I really should not be here’ look on his face to the man fighting to keep his benefits cash cow on the go, appealing against a decision to stop his payments.  Probably so he can carry on doing nothing or drinking or smoking pot or wasting his time or EVEN blogging!  I saw a rather attractive woman working there as well and it got me thinking.  What if you’re in there as a single man and you see a nice looking woman, you ain’t gonna offer her shit, you can’t even get a job!  It ain’t the place to pick up, that’s for sure – you can’t bullshit your way into some girl’s knickers in there – there is no way!  Unless you’re Charles Bukowski I suppose…

Times are tight maybe I’ll have to become a webcam performer – no experience necessary! 

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Your Mum….

hates your blog – “what a fucking waste of time!!!” [yes that is a direct quote] sent promptly from my mother’s email in response to mine; inviting people to read my ‘waste of time’ on here and not only did she want me to know, she wanted everybody to know, so sent all, a list in excess of fifty people!  She is after all entitled to her opinion – my favourite reply from a dear friend was ‘And whaddya know? Kit’s blog has the best introduction to his friends possible – family tension, swear words, friends backing him against his mum and someone called HandsOnAaron on the email list. I’ve not followed the link but I’m hooked already!’  The responses also ranged from ‘your mum’s awesome!’ to ‘tell that person who emailed that foul language off for me please!’

Guess there’s no such thing as bad publicity – I was pissed off initially (I mean come on mum, I am trying).  Then I was embarrassed like when you’re fifteen and your mum drops you off at a party in full view of all your ‘K cider’ drinking mates and insists that she gives you a kiss.  She then made it even worse by replying all AGAIN, apologising to everyone – I mean, “come on Mum, you’re SO embarrassing!”.  Finally, I found it funny, due probably to my mother’s ineptitude to reply to a group email without sending all, yet so opinionated she had to get it all out!  I had visions of her sat in front of her screen frantically typing her opinion (plus expletive), succinct and to the point.  The frustration of her son wasting his time whilst being thoroughly unemployed eventually does come through in that single line email, only after I thought about it though!  I wish she had signed it off as ‘Disappointed of North London’

I love you too mum X

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