Uninspired ramblings (there, I said it first)

Remember that job I was whinging about a couple of posts down? Well thankfully I found a better one just in the nick of time, so was never actually reduced to joining ranks with the chain-smoking, stained-tracksuit-wearing, westie-accented girls who worked there.

(sigh of relief)

Another plus is that I am able to tell people about this new job without cringing with embarrassment. Oh... and I also have access to free stuff and there are some cool-ish people working there and... fuck it, I should stop fooling myself and just admit already that casual jobs are meant to be endured, not enjoyed. Working is such a drag anyway, I'm sure there's a better way to pay the bills (and I plan on finding it). Unfortunately (or fortunately) I have some level of self-respect, otherwise I probably would have sold nude photos of myself over the internet to barred-up old men by now.

Ha! if that doesn't get the google searchers turning up in droves, I'm not sure what will. (Sidenote: I think that Matthew Walker has found this site after googling himself... either that or he has some VERY obsessive fans. Anyway Matt, if you're reading this, feel free to drop me a line and let me know when you'll be at purple sneakers next so I can stalk you say hi)

God, I can't believe I've stooped so low that I'm now trying to score cheap laughs by using the strikeout tag, which is only ever ever used by lesbians and other people who get their hair cut at the barber a lower form of humour than celebrity bashing. I think I'll just stop this post before things get any worse.