Party Down and Go Fuck Yourself

How To Find A Job In The Recession

2011-12-05T04:11:00.000-08:00

I've been applying for lots of jobs recently because I found myself making the silly mistake of going back into a call centre to chase the dream of the mighty pound. All's happened is I've been ground down and my mental health has started to deteriorate along with basic functions like memory and temper.

I've been applying for jobs right, left, centre, up, down, turnaround and constantly find myself hitting the ground with a huge whack of disappointment.

This is what the standard rejection letter I get reads like:

Dear Tuesday Kid

Thanks very much for your application for the post of (insert job you're almost over qualified and over experienced for.

Unfortunately on this occasion you have not been selected for interview. You see this job had to be advertised because as a company we receive public funding, however, this job was always going to go to either of the two people listed below (sometimes it's a combination of both):

1)Someone in the company's child/partner/friend.
2)Someone who has been interning for us for a while even though they don't have half your qualifications or experience (if your parents are rich enough to keep you maybe you could come and work for us for free).

The standard of applications was very high and may have had some competition for the position, but since it was never really open to the public anyway this doesn't matter.

Good luck with the mental health issues that arise from you're[sic] demeaning call centre job.

Kind regards

A.Cunt

What to do if your boss won't pay you

2011-11-17T03:19:00.000-08:00

So in this shitty economic climate where some complete wankers think the solution is to lower minimum wage (go fuck yourselves, seriously) it seems a boy like me farting through silk to get his bills paid needs to be a suave mutherfucker.

I've been working part time and temping to top my wages up. One company I temp for (or temped for) are particularly bad and often send me to jobs that turn out not to be booked, and even when I do the work pay arrives late. One particular job I did, I waited three weeks for pay but without it appearing in my bank account.

At the end of the second week I told my handler (MI5 joke) that I needed this money to pay bills and that I did the work and it was only right that they paid me. My handler told me that she'd talk to someone in the office to sort something out and blah blah blah but most importantly she'd ring me back in five minutes. By the end of the day I hadn't heard anything (this was Friday two weeks in). I called on Tuesday, the payroll day wanting to know the status of my payment. I was again told that I'd be called later and it would all be sorted out. No call came. I knew I was being passed on, especially when I called back and wasn't able to speak to my handler (who was out of the office/on the phone to another client/dancing round the office to inane pop music while lighting a cigar for satan with the money that should be coming my way). I told the guy who answered the phone that I wanted that money paid to me on Friday and he started doing all the polite job agency crap of mispronouncing my name (who the fuck mispronounces Tuesday Kid?), and saying thinks like 'how many hours do you think you've worked?' So I told him that it wasn't a case of thinking. I knew what I worked and I wasn't going to let his company fuck me around. At this point he said that my language was unacceptable. I told him that waiting three weeks without pay was unacceptable, at which point he started to repeat that my language was unaccep-'FUCK YOU.' I shouted down the phone at him and hung up.

The next day when I called I was put on to my handler who told me that if I called into the office they'd pay me my money in cash. Which I did and they did.

While I was there I was told that they wouldn't be able to use me again after the way I'd spoke to the guy.

I told them that I didn't want to work for them again because I couldn't be sure I'd get my money next time.

Then I rode off into the sunset and all that cowboy shit.

The thing is, I tried to be nice and follow procedure and be polite to all parties and generally just be a good guy, and hope that everyone else would be good to me back. No such luck, only when I ring them up and hurl abuse does everyone stop acting like an asshole.

They were lucky they gave in before I started throwing headbutts.

Sammy Wilson Wants to Bring Back the Death Penalty...Of Course He Does

2011-11-10T02:57:00.000-08:00

I was reading the BBC news this morning when I came across an article saying five Northern Irish MPs want to bring back the death penalty. My first thought was I bet that daemonic bastard Sammy Wilson is among them.

Those of you who've been reading my blog for a while will know that when I was high on crack I was sometimes visited by a daemon who I suspected was Sammy Wilson. Turns out I was right! This motion may be some ritual dressed up as parliamentary proceedure and even a basic knowledge of satanism suggests that the other four represent the cardinal points!

It makes sense that a satanic idol would want the death penalty brought back, but what about his four cronies: David Simpson, Jim Shannon, Jefferey Donaldson and Gregory Campbell (soupy!).

Jim Shannon - Embarrassed Northern Ireland by speaking Ulster Scots in parlament. David Cameron even told him to 'catch himself on'.
Gregory Campbell - Hard faced old bastard.
David Simpson - Who's he?
Jeffery Donaldson - Said in an interview that he doesn't mind getting mistook for Daniel O'Donnell 'We've been friends for years. If someone asks me to sign one of his albums or something I just write Dan and they go off smiling.'

Sweaty Heavy Metal Rock and Roll Vomit Party Memory

2011-11-07T04:36:00.000-08:00

I think the only other thing I have in common with Kurt Cobain is that I was in a band (briefly). A sweaty rock and roll heavy metal one. I was pish at singing. I was really in it for the metal pussy, because there were lots of heavy metal vomit parties.

I remember one in the Four Winds where there were mudwrestling ladies. The whole house was getting down to slippery mudwrestling fun and dope smoking, when a stone came through the front window. I suggested sending the wrestling ladies out to some break legs but the guy throwing the party said that he had to call the cops about it, or his insurance company wouldn’t pay to get the windows fixed. It all sounded very unmetal.

We burnt loads of toast to try to cover the smell of dope and sat in the living room waiting for the peelers. The place was a mess. The mud from the makeshift wrestling arena in the centre of the room had spilled out all over the white carpet. With all the mud plus the roaches and red wine that had been thrown on it, there was nothing you could have done with it but throw it out. Most of us were covered in mud, a few of the guys had black eyes from the mudwrestling. I caught a look at myself in the mirror. I was stoned out of my boat. My face was so pale I could have blended in with the radiators.

‘Hey, it’s the peelers,’ said a stoned guy with black eyes in a stoned drawl, as the door swung open and some cops came walking in.
‘Been making some toast?’ one of them said. He could have said more. It didn’t help that the guy who just spoke gave the peeler a stoned in-on-it grin.
The guy who owned the house was sweating like a horse during sex and making nervous jokes, while trying to take the police out into another room.

‘I’m going to write a song about this,’ I said, half joking, but one of the metal girls gave me such a look, like this was the coolest thing she’d ever heard anyone say, that I started enlarging on it, talking about a riff I had that would suit it and this cool drum break and all that sort of shit. And yes, with the peelers still in the house, I got me some metal pussy.

Homeless, Like Kurt, who was deep

2011-11-04T16:07:00.000-07:00

I'm in the house watching the Nirvana night on BBC4, or to be honest I've only just turned it on. Right at the point where they're saying that Kurt Cobain used to be homeless. Something I never knew.

I've been homeless myself, but never for long, never more than a few weeks before I found somewhere to stay. If I had to spend a few nights under a bridge or in a park or even in a casualty waiting room (like Cobain did) I always managed to get myself a sofa in someone's house, or crash out in a cupboard at a party.

The first time I spent a night out was during some shitty rioting that happens in Northern Ireland from time to time. I was coming home from a party at a friends house (I was only a teenager at the time by the way) when I heard more noise than I should have heard at that time of night in that area. I turned a corner where I could see a lot better a crowd of angry bastards charging up the street in my direction. That was my cue to turn and run like a mutherfucker, not in the opposite direction, back the way I came (at a right angle to the rioters route). I managed to get to a bridge that I had to cross on my way to school. It was in a remote part of town, and not lit, so I tucked myself under it to sleep. It was stupid for a lot of reasons. It's a bad idea to put yourself in an obscure area far the fuck away from anyone, but since the town was getting fucked up it was the best of nothing but bad options.

It wasn't the last time I slept under a bridge, or that bridge, but I hope that part of my life is over with, unless the economy sends everything to shit again, and in that case there's always cat burgling and crack.

Bill Gates, Vaccinations, Overpopulation and Seven Billion People on Earth

2011-10-31T04:10:00.000-07:00

With the seven billionth baby just been born, some people are worried about overpopulation etc. I think there isn't much to worry about really because as my old daemonic pal Sammy Wilson says: CO2 doesn't cause climate change.

After all, our CO2 emissions aren't melting the martian poles, are they?

Anyway, if you are scared of global warming, here's Bill Gates giving us some advice on how to go about it with vaccines, health care and fertility treatments. What a cranky lizardman billderberg bastard, I'm so glad I use Mac.

3 Years and counting

2011-10-24T05:17:00.000-07:00

So Saturday was my three year anniversary. I'm not sure where to go with the blog any more or even if I should keep posting. It's mostly because I'm no longer a lonely crackhead living in Belfast.

I still sniff felt tips from time to time though. Mostly I just get high throughout the day on coffee, and come down in the evening with alcohol.

Still, it's nice to make it to the big old three years and know that my blog has outlived Hamsters, Guppies and unfortunate pets (I'm not sure why this is nice, especially because I'm sure all those deaths involved crying children). Ho hum.

And so it is (or something deep).

2011-10-06T01:48:00.000-07:00

I've always been a bit unimpressed with the way blogs are set out to be read backwards. That's fine if you're writing a topical blog all about which Kardashian sister is doing some dumb shit in tight spandex somewhere in Beverly Hills everyday. It's not fine if you've written a blog that contains non-celebrities (as in actually non-celebrities, not a sarcastic way of referring to low lvel celebrities) and is intended to be read from start to finish and not flicked back through like some worried mum looking through her teenage daughter's diary trying to find out who this new boyfriend is.

So if you want to start at the start click here: http://duderay.blogspot.com/2008/10/night-was-long-and-id-been-doing-crack.html

Follow the link mawfucka

2011-10-05T06:58:00.000-07:00

Just in case you are flicking backwards like a worried mum going through her teenage daughter's diary, instead of following the link I'm doing what any smart teenage girl does and hide what you're looking for. If you follow the link it'll take you to the start, called so because it's where you should start reading.

If you're curious about the content before you get started there's a whole smorgasbord of stuff but it's basically a tale of love, life and licking the bowl. If you're interested in crack addiction, satanism, shoplifting, heavy metal, tight spandex, Hermione Granger, smoking hot guitar solos, call centres, millies and spides, pink champagne, cross dressing, the lessons of the street, big violent dogs, cute puppies, boiled eggs, oral sex, indie music, the Lagan Meadows, Belfast, Northern Ireland, Northern Ireland's tallest building (The Obel Tower) or the possibility that Sammy Wilson MP is actually a shapeshifting demon then there's something in here for you.

If you're not I'm sure you might still find something you like. Go here and give it a go:

http://duderay.blogspot.com/2008/10/night-was-long-and-id-been-doing-crack.html

Shoplifting

2011-09-30T06:58:00.000-07:00

Being a vain sort I often look to see what sites link back here. I've found a really good one recently with a great piece on shoplifting.

I've shoplifted loads in Belfast. It's a great passtime. I never really did it for fun or kicks or whatever. I mostly did it because I needed food, or clothes, or money for crack. You might argue that there's a difference in need and want but that's for another time.

One of the most interesting things about theft is how society looks at it and both how and who gets punished most severely for it. An example being the riots in England in August that started in Tottenham and spread throughout the country.

What was interesting about what was taken was that it was mostly status items (shit trainers and expensive electrical stuff). The riots were wrong, sure and you can say that the rioters deserved to be punished. Where this falls down is the fact that our politicians stole from us (as we found out during the expenses scandal), and as yet I think only one politician has gone to jail for this and even then he was released shortly after. In August a man was imprisoned for four years for posting some shit on facebook encouraging people to riot (there's no evidence that this post actually led to any rioting).It seems that for people of elevated status theft warrants a less severe punishment.

The issue again gets blown out of proportion when dickhead tabloid journalists start frothing at the mouth about it, and the fact that the majority of their readers are also dickheads means that although the public see an issue as serious, it's the public themselves which are hard to take seriously (unless they're busting into your house to give you a kicking - which happens from time to time - though not to me).

Even looking at the headlines on a tabloid newspaper makes me feel like I'm being shouted at by an incredibly thick person who thinks I agree with them.

That's why when I go back to a shop in Belfast that I've stolen from I feel slightly smug and walk around thinking about how I got away with it, and how here's me and who's going to catch me now. (You see I was never caught and I don't do it anymore - so anyone who doesn't like it can suck it).

Here's a link to the article. It refers you back here to share my glory days of shoplifting if you go down far enough, so you can go on a never ending loop between our websites if you fancy it.

Sex, Bear, Biscuit

2011-09-28T09:12:00.000-07:00

It's time for this:

A bit of slam dancing does make me feel very good.

Fuck George W. Bush (still!)

2011-09-14T01:59:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting with a pish hangover after being woken up by my barking dog at 8:00. I took him for a wee walk and fed him and now I can't get back to sleep.

I got a postcard from Rock and Roll Stephen (who's doing quite well for himself in Derry from what I've heard [not just what he says]), it said: Fuck George W Bush. That wasn't the design of it, Rock and Roll Stephen wrote that on it. Some people still hate that guy (Bush, not Rock and Roll Stephen) for what he did.

I think some people leave a legacy behind them that make people want to boke every time someone brings them up in a conversation. Angry people talk a lot about them just because it gives them an excuse to be angry. It must be a horrible feeling.

I didn't read the rest of the postcard. I will later when I'm not so tired any more. I'm going to have some crunchy nut cornflakes and go back to bed.

So I was in a music video

2011-08-23T07:49:00.000-07:00

So I was in a music video. I'm in around 2:48. Blink and you'll miss me. I'm there, or I was, you'll know what I mean when you see it.

Take it away, BeeMickSee:

Wasn't I great?

How to removed a bottlelox security tag

2011-08-01T03:14:00.000-07:00

I was at Nanny Boo Boo's a few weeks ago just catching up. See was in a bad mood, because she'd bought a bottle of her favourite vodka from Sainsburys and they'd forgotten to remove the security tag. So off she came home thirsty and unable to drink the lovely drink.

I told her she should have called me and I'd have come round right away, and prepared. I told her that I'd nicked bottles of stuff with the bottlelox still on it in my wilder days and taking it off was as easy as taking a piss down an alley when you get caught short. She said that it wasn't quite for easy for women as it was for men. I told her that removing a bottlelox was.

Basically getting the lock off is a piece of piss as long as you have a drill, which Nanny Boo Boo didn't. After hoaking through her old junk cupboard the only thing I could find was a wee hacksaw which I used to saw around the bit you drill. It took a little longer than the sleek job the guy makes of it in the vid but afterwards we settled down to vodka ice and nothing else because Nanny Boo Boo had drank all her mixer in bad temper and neither of us could be arsed walking to the shop for more.

Sk8board Kids in da bogs

2011-07-03T04:18:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't posted in a while but I told myself I'd stop telling embarrassing stories about people I know. This one luckily is just about something I saw yesterday that convinced me there is still a lot of bad ass in Belfast.

I was in draining cyclops in the toilets at Victoria Square yesterday. Some sk8ers came in as I was washing my hands. One of them was still on his board and did an ollie and grinded along the metal urinal before jumping back down again.

Some guy in there gave them a dirty look and they buggered off (kinda spoiling their badassery a bit) I just wanted to put the funny sk8er move here for all to see since I didn't have a camera on me and even if I did pulling it out in a men's room would have made me look like a peeping tom pervert muthafucker.

I just think it's great that someone pulled a badass move with a sk8board. I was beginning to think that mankles and such shite were destroying the teenage rebel spirit.

When Ex-Girlfriend's Get Married

2011-05-05T15:15:00.000-07:00

Fabian Wildman called round today. He was in a bad way. He was crying and his eyes were all bloodshot from smoking loads of crack. I couldn't make sense of him at first so I let him sleep it off on my couch.

When he came round I took him out into the garden with cups of tea to find out what was up. I thought it was going to be some crackhead weird stuff but he said that Betty Blue was home from Uni and he ran into her. I thought it was going to be a story of them rekindling their old romance (all thanks to the litres of spunk Fabian rubs into his hair) but he said that she told him she was getting married to some guy called Kiss Man.

I asked if he meant Kissy Boy, and he said that was his old name but now he calls himself Kiss Man, or if he doesn't like you, Mr Kiss. Fabian started crying and saying that how come it's always his exes and never him who gets married? I asked what other exes of his were married and he said some girl before he knew me. She wasn't just some girl, their break-up was what started him on crack, or maybe him started crack was what caused the break-up, he wasn't sure. He remembers it different ways depending on what suits, he said.

He said at the wedding he sat outside the church on a motorcycle smoking tobacco cigarettes and playing this song on a ghetto blaster

Except that it wasn't him who made the stupid mistake it was her for leaving him.

He sat crying on his motorcycle throughout the service and when the bride and groom came out at the end everyone threw confetti at them, except him, he flicked a fag butt at them and sped off into the sunset, with the song still playing.

He said he was going to do it again when Betty Blue marries Kiss Man because he's so unhappy about it and he won't stop there, he'll get a job as a waiter at the reception and trash fuck out of the place before anyone even gets there and he'll hide inside the crack and jump out of it at the fuckers and headbutt Kiss Man right in the fucking face just so Betty Blue has to look at an ugly bastard all her married life.

Grinba Gunns is a rotten thieving bastard

2011-05-02T15:30:00.000-07:00

I ran into an old pal from my crackhead days today, a wanker called Grinba Gunns. He's still on crack and looks like a stick man. He said that someone asked him last week if he was anorexic and he said - no, but thanks. Dickhead.

What I remember most about Grinba is that he was a bit of a computer wiz and used to cheat people out of their cash with some paypal scam he had going. What a rotten bastard. I know I used to break into people's houses and rob from shops but most of his victims were well meaning people trying to sell stuff on gumtree and he used to get their money with his rotten bastard technique.

I asked him why hadn't I seen him in a long time and he said that he'd had to flee the country because the cops were after him for his hi-tech crimes. I told him that I'd heard it was because he used to like sticking glass rods in his japs eye and one of them snapped and he had to get his dick sliced open and sewn up again. He winced but said that this was a lie and he'd like to know who said it. I told him it was Good King Thumpo, even though it wasn't and he's probably dead. I asked him if I could have his email address just to keep touch and he wrote it down for me.

ggunns1@yahoo.co.uk

I haven't put that there for you to give him abuse. It's just incase you're trying to sell stuff online and the rotten bastard tries to fraud you.

Space Metal and a Little Bit of Fame

2011-04-10T07:15:00.000-07:00

I was hanging out at Central Station a few days ago hustling for cash when I picked up a copy of GO Belfast for a flick. It gave me a great big smile all over my face to see Party Down and Go Fuck Yourself mentioned as one of Belfast's top blogs. Thanks to journalist Tia Clarke for writing the piece. Sharing the stage were also White Rabbit, Fast Fashion, Slugger O'Toole, Well Done Fillet, Bandwidth Sessions, and 400 Facts. I was pretty happy to say the least and felt like bodypopping all the way home, except I can't bodypop so I prowled the streets looking for someone I knew who I could offer hi-5s to. The first person I came across was Derek Baby from the Sweaty Metallers. I couldn't tell him because he never knew I wrote the blog.

He said that him and the other sweaty metaller (the one that isn't him) are back together in a band and that they're doing really heavy Space Metal. It's orgasmic (that's what he said). He had some on his mp3 player and asked if I wanted a listen. I said yes out of politeness. What followed felt like a repentant rapist who has only just realised he's a scum bag, screaming about his wrong doings right up in your fucking face (through heavy distortian and a chorus peddle).

The lyrics went:

I'm a sex tiger
a sex survivor
from the planet Sex
I come to pay my respects.

I told him it was great then I went home and sat in a chair all evening feeling abused wishing I knew the number for a counselling service.

Choice Notes

2011-04-04T08:06:00.000-07:00

Now I'm jobless I'm having a short break to myself. It isn't easy because bills keep coming in and I've no way of paying them. Still I'm keeping stylish with my robbing. I have a store card for New Look which I owe a lot on but I'm saving up that bad boy for a later date.

I've taken to watching early morning television, and while trying to make my mind up where to steal a stylish shirt from the TK Maxx ad came on the TV with this great little song:

Me and Battle Cat danced all around the living room to it. Then I set off for TK Maxx on the rob. Their advertising is working, kind of.

How to get revenge on your ex boss

2011-03-21T11:26:00.000-07:00

So I said to myself: I'm not going to these blog awards. I'm not going to bully or be nasty to anyone. If I'm not winning I've had my rant and I couldn't gives two fucks who wins now.

I don't believe in karma, I think it's a pretty dopey concept to be honest. I believe in the whole don't be a bastard and people will not think you're a bastard but the whole mystical force going round being a cunt to people is just bollocks.

So what happens today - I get a phonecall telling me I've been fired. That's right fucking fired. No job bastards.

I'm not taking this lying down. Once again I'm not going in with my fists swinging because I know enough about the company I've just left to loose them some of their contracts and I'll fucking do it.

They will rue the fucking day.

Irish Blog Award Shortlist

2011-03-06T03:20:00.000-08:00

So the Irish Blog Award shortlist is out and I'm not on it for the third year running, what do I have to do? Post some fucking lolcats or something else predictable and pish? I thought since the Irish Blog Awards are being held in Belfast this year I might just offer whatever pussy assed mutherfuckers made the shortlist out for a fight but slapping the wee wankers about Great Victoria St when they're here for their one night of fun in the year is a bit mean.

So I won't.

I could, no?

Anyways, I won't do anything else bad like get a job as a waiter for the night and spit in your booze or whatever, na fuck that. I'd like to go all Bruce Wayne (incognito) to the event and make nice with everyone and pretend I'm writing an article for my school paper etc and find out who was in charge of the short lists and by fuck if it was a man I'd follow you into the toilets and stand beside you at the urinals pish all down your leg but even if it was a man I bet the fucker pishes sitting down so that's out the window too.

No offence by the way to ladies out there who pish sitting down I know that's just the way you're built. You can pish standing up if you so want to but be warned it will run down your leg.

Fuck it that's my rant over. I'm staying away from the blog awards. I might give the Europa (that's where they're being held I think) a casual two fingers as I walk past it on my way to someplace cooler.

Here's rock and roll sweaty heavy metal band Tool in a more reflective mood. This is how to threaten someone:

Another Update

2011-02-27T09:44:00.000-08:00

I just can't seem to stay away this month. I thought I might give the place a wee make over and since I couldn't find a template I really loved I thought at least I'd make it the colour of a velvet catsuit I bought myself the other week. Ah the joys of being a grown man in spandex.

Since I didn't get to vote in the southern elections just wondering how you all feel about the new government. Will they get the economy funking? Up here in the north the most our politicians can deliver are call-centres. Useless bastards (yes I still work in one).

Nominated

2011-02-13T15:40:00.000-08:00

I'm just coming on here briefly to boast about being nominated for two irish blog awards. Thank you to whoever nominated me. And since I'll probably not win I'll give you the speech I'll been busting to deliver since I was first nominated back in 2009:

"I keep it real. Life on the streets is tough. Fuck tha police, fuck tha government, politicians man fuck em too. Fuck advertising companies and people who photoshop models on magazine covers. Blah blah blah and thank you to Hermione Granger for keeping me company on those long lonely nights."

I'd probably not say the half of this. I'd just mutter something about how nice it is to win and get very drunk back in my seat.

Congrats to everyone else nominated.

If you are wondering what's been happening with me I'll give you a little bit of info:

Hot Baby Roy and Hot Firey Love Lady have moved in together (in Leeds).

I'm sharing my bachelor pad with two dogs (Battle Cat, of course, and Ma-Mutt [Good King Thumpo's dog. No one has seen Good King Thumpo since he went to make his snuff movie]).

Fabian Wildman is still doing the rounds and we see each other from time to time.

Nanny Boo Boo is alive and well.

My protege has started catering college and sometimes brings me cakes to stuff my face with.

And as for me and the Punchbowl Girl, I'll keep you guessing.

That's all folks!

2010-10-21T08:25:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my birthday and it started me thinking about it being time to wind the blog down. I've a lot going on in my life at the mo and the blog isn't so easy to keep up.

I've been at it two years now and it's been great. I've went from being a sad crack head who was secretly the coolest dude in town to everyone knowing just how mutherfucking cool I can rock. I've played electric rock and roll guitar solos, talked to daemons and kissed lots of sexy girls.

I've enjoyed massive support from the rest of the blogging community, particularly the Northern Irish blogging community. I'm not saying this is it for good but for now that's me.

Thanks for reading, I might post on here from time to time so it's not a total goodbye but if you do want some other good blogs to read in the meantime there's plenty listed down the side there.

Post Sex Sex Face (What the fuck that means?)

2010-10-18T10:45:00.000-07:00

What a shite week I've had. The Punchbowl Girl is actually away for two weeks so she'll miss my birthday. Fuck that.

I've sat round the house wondering how to avoid conversations with Wino Jo about how he's fallen off the wagon and when he's going to get back on it and get the fuck back to wherever he was before I found him in a bin.

I've just been staying late at work and hating it too. They've lost a few contracts and it's us dicks on the floor that are getting the blame for it. We've been told no reading at the desks, no eating sweets from the machine, no fuck all.

One of the bosses walks up and down the floor glaring at people like he's cock of the walk even though his cock probably doesn't work any more. I'd love to have him a street fight; I'd destroy him, it's be so great watching him trying to throw the digs and getting wasted everytime he'd thought he'd connected.

Speaking of kickings I can't wait to get my hand on that cunt Mother of Bowling Ball.