I’ve been busy, honest.

June 28, 2007 at 10:07 pm | Posted in family, poo, scutter, work | 33 Comments

Doing this, to be exact:

wreck of a kitchen

shit pipe

Every waking minute outside of work (and playing the Xbox), I’ve been tearing the house apart. All so that some day soon, we have one of these downstairs:

faeces extractor

I had to put my hand into some poo to connect up a pipe the other day. I meant to take a photo of it, but Linzi wouldn’t let me hold the camera while I had shit on my hands.

Once the toilet’s done, I have to put in a new kitchen. The fun never stops. Ara sure, it’ll all be worth it once it’s done, everyone keeps saying. They never offer to help though, the bastards.

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My relationship with noodles is ruined

January 24, 2007 at 11:47 pm | Posted in HR, magic and a spoon, noodles, petulance, scutter, stray cat in a vice, thanking you | 29 Comments

Last week, the day I went home from work sick, I had noodles for lunch. I tried to have noodles for lunch today, but every time I looked at them my stomach made a peculiar whining sound, like a stray cat being compressed in a vice. I took a couple of mouthfuls and retched, so strong was the taste/smell reminder. The thought of noodles is now inextricably interlinked with the memory of spraying scuttery shit all over the bathroom porcelain while simultaneous spewing my ring into an overflowing basin balanced precariously on wobbly knees.

No more noodles for me, despite their excellent value.

Occasional visitors may recall me posting a while back about being approached by a BIG COMPANY who wanted to feast on my lad. I had a shitey HR interview with them on 6th December, filled with the inane bullshit typical of HR interviews and hilariously satirised by Sweary recently, and they told me they’d get back to me in a week.

They got back to me today; six weeks’ delay isn’t bad for a HR Department, I suppose. Anyway, I’ve got a second interview with them on Monday. This one is an hour-long phone interview followed by an hour-long…thing, where they email me some documents and I have to analyse them and write a report and send it back to them. Pretty fucking odd way to assess it, but seems to be fairly standard practice, so who am I to argue?

I despise cunts who say “Thanking you”. It’s “thank you”. Why do some people insist on saying it in the present tense? It sounds as though, rather than actually thanking me, you are letting me know you are thanking me, which is good of you and all, but I could probably tell that you were thanking me if you just said “thank you” and dropped the redundant fuck”ing” suffix.

Yes, I am a petulant arsehole. A petulant arsehole with a new banner though. Not bad for MS Paint*, eh?

Non-sequitor is the order of the day around here lately. I hope I’m not turning into Knudsen, the crazy old fucker. Anyway, I’d promise something coherent in the near future, but it seems unlikely, so you’ll just have to put up with me.

*well, everything was MS Pain except the blue-ifying filter, which was done using magic and a spoon.

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