Went The Day Well?

I get up and shower straight away – which is an improvement on the rest of the week already as I’ve been getting up and watching Stargate & Scrubs reruns, showering at stupid times like 3pm all week. My routine is skewered and I’m dressed before I’ve shaven (electric). For some reason I decide to shave in front of the big bathroom mirror (not the small one from my display pic). The razor feels really sharp, pulling on hair – OW. I start again, pushing harder cos I’m a fucking dickhead – OW! I look at the razor cos all of a sudden I’m a fucking expert, nothing seems amiss – I try for the third time and wince – now there is blood OWW!!! I look once again, there is a tiny shard of plastic broken through the blade.

30 mins later my face looks like a cat has treated me like it’s bitch – my cheek covered with several red scratches cos I’m a fucking dickhead remember. Off to town I go.

Being out of work (for all of two days – how long before this line gets tired?) I have not renewed my travel pass. The world of public transport is a new and scary pace where I have to talk to bus drivers and train ticket thingymebobs. I’m to lazy and its cold and I’m too lazy to walk the 30 minute walk to the train station and I’m only have a fiver on me so I cant get a taxi, so I opt to get the bus. Having not bought a fare since school I’m pretty confident it’s gonna be more than 50p. For some reason I ask how much is it to town - £1.50 – fuck it I’ll stay on & read my book.

The cold has paled my skin now, reddening the scratches even more – also even this ugly fella likes to smell nice, I applied some aftershave (dickhead remember) which needless to say stung like hell –is this an important detail?

Anyways a girl gets on the bus and stares at me vacantly. I try and detect a smile, a look of lust, but nope vacant as anything, and yet she doesn’t take her eyes off me, walks right to the back of the bus and sits in front of me. I go back to my book. The bus is bouncing along and well into my book and I have some great tunes low on my ipod, I look up and there are new passengers, I see one of the most beautiful faces ever and I am transfixed. I try to read my book but I can’t avoid sly glances over. Then she moves slightly and what is that? Oh Christ no – a school uniform. I sink into my chair depressed and disgusted. I go back to my book and concentrate turning up the tunes.

My trip to town is brief, in fact I spent longer getting there – town is Liverpool City Centre by the way. It is notable for two things.

1/ with the gift voucher from my team I purchase Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (just watched, very good), The Proposition, and The Three Buriels of Melquiades ….(Mexican name) – Aaron wanted to know and his email add wouldn’t work.

2/ I go to Boots and spend my boots points on a new electric razor. The queue is long and full. Everywhere I look I see beautiful attractive women. All the girls on the till are beautiful attractive women. My heart sinks. If there is indeed a perfect time for a spot of public embarrassment, now is the time. For some reason, the till girls in Boots sit on really low chairs, that or today I was really tall. If you work in Boots you would probably have worked this out very early in your career, perhaps 3 minutes into it. Knowledge of this kind may teach you certain things, for example never look up people’s nostrils. Another factor, particularly if you are of the female persuasion, maybe, just maybe, would be think about what to wear.

So there I am staring down a very low-cut top…

I really wanted to. I did. But call me a prude, although I’d prefer gentleman, I just couldn’t do it. Before I could dwell on such matters, that old public embarrassment starting to raise its ugly head (I know this sounds like innuendo, but that’s your dirty mind not mine). Having never bought anything with my Boots card before, I merely printed off the voucher, searched for the product and dutifully handed all three to the cashier. Sadly, the cashier had never sold anything with a Boots card before.

Five long minutes I stood there. Normally in these situations I panic, face reddens, heart beats faster, knees buckle. I just smiled and nodded. Now I know why she wore the top. On a (deep deep deep) subconscious level she understood that she was a fuckwit, and the way to overcompensate this was to flash her tits. (sure there’s a flaw in that argument but it’s 1.30am and I’m typing this blind). Still I did not look. Wish I had now come to think of it.

I left town and returned home. Town was very busy and people, well people bug me.

This evening I decided to shopping at asda. 5 days before Christmas. Aisles were jam packed. Every where I turned was a moaning idiot – the real life embodiment of those jammy fuckers off the Special K ads – no-marks with beautiful outta their league girlfriends. All of em moaning about how busy it was, how people stop and have a chat with their trolley’s blocking the path. Naturally all were stopped chatting to their spouses about this. It is a shame that irony is lost of many of our great nation. That and scheduling skills. It’s open 24/7 why did u come at rush hour dickhead!?!

I spent 50 pounds on alcohol and £1.50 on a sizzle n stir salad thing. I must have looked like the catch of the day to the cashier. Pathetic.

There was another interesting note – having cut my hair yesterday very short (drug mule is what Dominique refers to me as – somehow I don’t see that as a compliment), wearing my customary outta-my-way-dickhead scowl and with those scratches perfectly juxtaposed with my whiter than white (I don’t like the Sun) skin – I was now eye candy for all the little jailbaits running amok. Unbelievable!

I was getting the eye off Britney, Christina, and who else is there, Pink? All fine and well if you’re an amoral scumbag. But me, I was crushed. I wanted there mom’s to look. 14 or 32? I’m nearly 30. Prison or dinner and sex? And that’s home cooked microwave chips and beans dinner, none of that fancy restaurant bullshit. Sadly, Mom’s were off listening to Special K boyfriend’s whine and bitch.

I left to write this. Albeit some 6 hours later. Its 2am, why the fuck did I think it was important to write this shit down? I’m sober/

Last Day...

As of 13:00 hrs today, I stopped working for Arvato.

My last day was a complete waste of time too

I officially end my contract on the 10^th January, but with holidays to use up and a perceived lack of work for January (plus my replacement ha ha) it was felt that today would be the best day to end my 13 month tenure with the company.

Unfortunately, I had already assumed last Friday was to be my last day, so today was little more than an anti-climax.

Friday was cool. I finished all my work, and true to form, half-finished my final (and most important) task lol. My team, a great bunch (who I know will read this- I wish would stop being pathetic and start talking to each other again), had a whip round and bought me some leaving gifts. As much as I LOVE getting gifts ha ha, I hate stuff like that, get very embarrassed very quickly. I managed to mumble out some words of gratitude, ha ha actually I thought I handled it quite well, but I’m sure they’ll disagree. And then they applauded. Face reddens. And then the team next to them started clapping too – very loudly. Knees start trembling. Looking for the exit now.

There you go – my own ‘Captain O’ Captain’ moment. Sadly minus the standing on chairs, but I was touched. A very cool moment which I will relive time to time when I’m alone and drunk, cheering myself up.

I wrote a heartfelt email (ie full of stupid jokes) to say goodbye proper, and made my peace with the fact that it was over.

So, how do you top that?

Sadly, you cannot.

I was asked to come in today to say goodbye proper (again I guess) and (Yay! 1999 just come on Shuffle – two weeks early but fuck it, party tune Yay!)

Balls where was I?

Oh yeah, I had half-heartedly applied for another position in work. A position that I was informed after applying had already been assigned to someone else. When agreeing on today, my manager mentioned the interview as she had forgotten about it – not exactly awe-inspiring. With this knowledge, I approached today with all the enthusiasm of a death row prisoner tucking into a larger than usual meal…

I waited till midday and still no news of when the interview was going to be. In the end, I asked myself did I really want the role considering I’d realized how happy I was to be leaving the place (I do want the money lol). I sent an email to HR & my manager with some guff about not feeling right for the role and withdrew my application.

(As I’m blogging this, there is a good chance they could be reading this ha ha).

I sent an email to the entire staff thanking them for the past 6 months, very short email. Put on my coat, said goodbye to the few who were sitting close by, and walked out.

A quiet ending to a strange topsy-turvy 13 months.

Spam

Despite my latest version of Internet Security, with all it's beefed up power and promises, I now get more spam email than ever before. On average, each day I get between 5 and 15 emails all promoting the virtues of quick degrees, medicines, penis enlargement, breast enlargement, breast reduction, obesity, bulimia etc etc etc. The majority of which I now believe come from one of my previous myspace profiles using my (foolish me) 'proper' email address.

Normally I delete these emails as soon as I see 'em, but recently I have noticed something remarkable. Now in the past most of them have at least tried to have names that appear like those of my friends – you know, so I'll nonchalantly open the wrong one, realise my dick is small, and sign up for a blah blah blah. But recently, the names have taken a life of their own…

Tonight, friends, I give you…

Arlene Blevins

Bobbi Tapia

Jody Hopper

Mammie Eaton

Natasha Solis

Trey Day

Who the fuck are these people? They sound like no one I know. No one I may know.

Some cool names though.

So who are these people?

Arlene Blevins – 32 years old, 3 children, 2 different daddies, lived alone since she was 15, victim of domestic violence all her life, scarred lip, eye beaten so many times, her lid is permanently in a squinting half closed state – doodles to forget, really creative, wants to be an artist, likes to sing to her kids

Bobbi Tapia – Pro-footballer, all American, constantly challenging himself, stigma over name, momma didn't realize she spelt it with an 'I' instead of a 'y' – media suspects he's in the closet – teammates don't trust him – loves cock

Jody Hopper – (I got nothing )

Mammie Eaton – Greasy Spoon Café owner – Mammie's her nickname, but no one knows/remembers her real name – makes the most disgustingly greasy dirty English full breakfast which is great for hangovers – huge ridiculously sized breasts, looks like maid from Tom & Jerry – has a string of gentleman callers,

Natasha Solis – 'Tash to her mates, on/off girlfriend of Trey, talks with Hubba Bubba in gob, likes it when boys look at her, mum and dad new money, loves Trey but deffo won't shag em till she's 15 (she's 13)

Trey Day – 15 year old chip on his shoulder prick – dad wanted to be a musician, lives through son – no talent whatsoever – steals mother's prescription drugs – both a victim and a bully – has a crap name

Well, pissing about there as you can see, lovely when boredom creates nothing out of something annoying lol. Cheesy cliches

Anyone got any ideas for Jody Hopper btw?

Last night

Crikey, went with my cousin to KFC cos we're tubby bitches and we wanted a bucket. Get there and there are loads of cars parked outside the car park - strange.

There is a police van blocking the entrance to the area - it's one of those 'complex' things you know cinema, KFC, McDonalds, pizza place, pub, club, some shops etc.

Turns out someone has been shot dead outside the bingo.

Crazy Liverpool eh?

We pulled over at a bus stop and asked to old ladies for the skinny. Then my cousin, being the true Christian, offered them a lift.

Needless to say, after the shooting, getting into a dark car in the middle of the night with two tubby bitches after some KFC must have terrified them. Both stood way back and started going on about husbands picking them up

I looked at my cousin, who was calm as day. He'll admit it himself, he's a Bateman at most of times, but he was geninuely being nice. lol

Anyways, we had to drive over the other side of town to get our KFC - in the end a zinger tower burger meal

Silly slag didnt include straws or ice for that matter in our cokes.

Yep, another ker-azy Friday night!!!