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Monday, June 17, 2013



i don't go out that often. partly it is because i am a miserable git (no it's true, i know you find that hard to believe) and partly because i am broke.
so when i get a freebie to a fetish club i am there like flies on shit.
after all who in their right mind is going to turn down the chance to look at gorgeous girls in rubber, leather and very little (oh ok maybe anne widdicombe - but she doesn't count).

the club is dark, grotty and hot.
the music is banging (i believe that is the term that da kidz use).
i am getting my sweat on.
i'd like to say it was because i was movin' and groovin', shimmying and shaking, but it was because i was wobbling and bobbling.
my dad dancing began to take a toll on my knees so much to the relief of all the young trendies i took myself off the dance floor, moved to one of the quieter areas and sat down.

now i am not a nosy person, but sometimes you just can't help earwigging a conversation or two.
to my left a tall skinny bloke was doing his best to impress. she was dressed in a slinky tight white thing and made even more stunning by her bald head. they were chit chatting. he was telling her about some mutual friend they had. she was nodding along. he was making progress.
he told her that he wasn't the sort of person to break a confidence as he was quite a private person himself and he didn't like people blabbing about personal stuff. this went down well with the woman.

from my vantage point it was slightly ruined by the fact that although he was wearing a pair of rubber shorts he was standing there with his cock out.

i guess it was just one of those things he was happy to share.



strictly speaking this wasn't overheard more it was blasted into me and left me gobsmacked.
currently i am suffering having to listen to magic fm, a radio station that dares to call itself a music station.
technically i can't fault that description - but it is a very limited definition of music.
still as they have a tendency to describe records as 'new' even though they have been playing them for months i guess that is to be expected.

a couple of things quickly become apparent when listening to magic - they have very little taste, they don't have many records and those that they do have are played to death.

there is also a genre of song - most typified by eric clapton's 'you are wonderful tonight' where he drones on about how much he loves his girlfriend/wife/poodle with all the emotion and passion of a damp sock left by the side of the road. listening to most of these types of songs it is no wonder why the object of the song has left or is on the verge of leaving - they are sick and tired of the whining of their singer songwriter partner who thinks they are some modern day bard but have just scratched some doggerel in the dirt.

so there i am suffering through yet another play of gotye's 'somebody i used to know' followed by passenger's 'let her go' and wondering if the geneva convention covers this sort of torture when the disc jockey drops the bombshell.

'next up is will young's new song 'jealousy', will is someone who never has a poor song...'


at that point all hope had gone, to be filled with a black cold despair.
the world is not a fair place and magic fm is its soundtrack.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013


how it works

the jobcentre sends its 'clients' to work programmes.
depending on how helpful your advisor is you might get some information about the work programme provider. my advisor was shit. so i didn't get any information at all.
no biggie.

the thing is you don't get sent on the work programme straight away you have had to be attending the jobcentre for awhile. during which time your advisor has picked up a few things about you and made a few notes about you on the computer system.
at least you would have thought so.

now i am a firm believer that you can never have enough education and that when free courses come your way it isn't a bad idea to take them. you can always learn something that might be useful in other circumstances. a little bit of knowledge can go a long way.

funny thing is i reckon that the advisors in the jobcentre need to do a bit of study - because they are pretty useless. well that is unfair. it is more that they are careless and couldn't care less if they tried.

the work programme i am starts with two weeks of class based teaching and a bunch of tests.
the jobcentre has managed to send along one person who doesn't speak a word of english - a fact that their advisor would be well aware of. two others can't read or write - again something that their advisors should be aware of and if they were not then it is something that should be flag on the computer systerm.

by sending them along to the work programme they have managed to waste people's time and embarrass people by sending them to something that they are not capable of doing.

i tell you it fills me with confidence.


how it works

the unemployed can be placed on a workfare programme.
this is done at the behest of the jobcentre - your advisor puts you forward to the programme.

at the programme you are asked to bring proof of being on benefits - that ignores the very real and pertinent fact that very few people would choose to spend their time in a mixed group of people who don't want to be in the room.
that we have no option but to be there is proof of being in receipt of benefits, you would have thought.
but you have to have proof because the various organisations involved with the workfare programme are all claiming money from the government.
the unemployed are a resource.
we have become a new sector in the economy.
we provide a source of income for a new group of professionals.

what is provided?
what will i get?
i will get (maybe) a certificate of employability. yes i am on an accredited course that teaches me to, wait for it, wait for it - to look for work.
the very fact that i am unemployed and i have been for a long time is proof that i need help (there also needs to be jobs), but to actually get a qualification in looking for work is a completely new thing.
i am sure employers are out there hoping that people come to them armed with an employability certificate - especially one that is award based on less than a week of study.

perhaps i am being cynical.

Monday, June 10, 2013


misanthropic blues

considering the beliefs i hold i really don't hold my fellow humans in very high regard at all.
individually there are some stars out there.
mostly though the mass of people are pretty much twats.

this has been brought home to me by my recent, forced, mingling with people on the work programme.
a number of stereotypes are proved to be correct.
a few blokes are so obnoxious that it is hard to stop yourself wishing they are caught in a torrent of kippers. they are the sort of chaps who go on about how they don't care if the jobcentre sanctions them because they aren't bothered, but they come to their sessions every day. they are the sort of blokes who love to hear themselves talk even though they are talking such shit that they may as well have 'arsehole' written on their foreheads. they are the sort of blokes who give it large and think they are clever and funny but are probably the ones in their circle of pals who are laughed at rather than with.
it is not that the women are much better - their saving grace is most of them are quiet.

the common denominator is that for all of them it isn't their fault and someone else is always to blame.

these are the days when my supply of the milk of human kindness has curdled.


no shit sherlock

oh look another politician has his snout in the trough. i am just surprised that anyone is surprised these days.

oh look thames water made a very large profit and paid no corporation tax on it. they still managed to put up their bills to 'finance' their improvements, and now they are not paying taxes. i doubt their shareholders will be going without a bit of cash in their pockets though. still i doubt if anyone is surprised.

oh look government spy (sorry intelligence) agencies have been caught keeping track of us by monitorinig and data mining various social media sites. no shit. seriously didn't we all think that the intelligence services were monitoring us at all times anyway? or was that just that i have been reading too much david icke?
after all now that so many of us have taken to the internet and social media - laying our every thought open to the casual glances of total strangers we must have thought to ourselves that the various intelligence agencies would have been doing the same thing.
no one can be surprised that it goes on.
we might be surprised at how poorly they have justified it.
we may also be surprised at just how the governments, internet service providers and content providers haven't seen the most obvious way to sell this intrusion to the general population.all they have to do is say that as a result of this protection against terrorism what they can now do is close down all the child porn sites on the internet.
with that one stroke (as it were) they have rescued themselves.

or they could have done if they has been sensible.

(anyone who uses that idea - please feel free to give me a job).


another hole in one

a few years ago i had a long discussion with a work colleague about jeans (true it might have been better if we had been discussing genes and how we could cure multiple illnesses, alas we were not). the reason we were talking about jeans wasn't because i have an interest in fashion (i don't - although i am the first to comment on stupid fashions: the onesie being slight preferable to low slung jeans), it was to do with the fact i was lamenting the death of another pair of jeans as the hole in the arse area had become too big to hide.

for some odd reason all my jeans go in the arse - never in the hip and trendy look at me knee area - only the please tell me i have clean undies on area.
it might be that my emitting toxic fumes on a regular basis has a terrible effect on denim - i don't know. it might just be that i am too fat and i wear the arse out quicker than the knees because i spend more time sitting on my fat arse.

whatever the reason the jeans had gone at the arse.
i was upset as they were a nice and well worn in pair of jeans.

my colleagues argument was that i should be spending sensible money on a pair of jeans. get a branded pair she told me - not those cheap jeans from sainsbury's. she continued to tell me that her levis has lasted her 10 years. i pointed out that my cheap jeans may not have last as long as her expensive ones - but i could buy more pairs for my money and those extras would mean i was clad in denim longer.
yay me!

it is an argument i still hold to - even though the cheap jeans have increased in price to the princely sum of £5.

(there is another reason why i don't rush to wear 'label' clothes: i am a fat slob. no matter what i wear i look like a fat slop. while wearing something expensive may appeal (it would be nice to have the money to spend) i am not going to look much better in a pair mcqueen styled jeans than i am in a pair of george style jeans).

subsequently what tends to happen is that i go out and buy several pairs of cheap jeans.
it looks like the penultimate wave of jeans i have bought have come to an end: yet another pair have developed a very big hole in the arse.

i can feel a trip to asda coming on.

Thursday, June 06, 2013


mr mojo has left the building

currently i have lost my mojo. (some would say i never had it).
i am trying my best to find it and reignite it.
it isn't that there are not lots of things that are exciting or irking me - it is just that the excitement and irk is very low level these days and i just can't get the mojo up.

so bear with me as i try to rediscover the fire.
it can only get better.
(can't it? please tell me it gets better...)