Hello. (Fuck knows the exact date I wrote this but I was at an airport and I left
the job mentioned after arond 3 months)
So this is my first outside blogcast, currently I am sat in
the departure lounge of Gatwick airport. Like most public places there is lots
to observe, for instance as I type this now there is a strange Asian chap
staring over my shoulder, he might even have seen me type this... one way to find
out..... Hey weird Asian bloke stop fucking staring over my shoulder.......
nope he’s still looking.
Anyway, I got a new job today so again the
Unemoloyedazoid aint so unemployed but fuck it they offered me a company car so
I’m a sell out now ok? (The asian bloke just left) Even he disapproves. Well
who gives a Dot Cotton cos I’m off to throw myself down a few mountains in
Morzine to celebrate my grown up job and while I’m out there I might eat a few
snails cos I’m cultured an shit.
“So Zoid what’s the new job?” well I’ll tell
you. It just so happens I’m gonna be working for the media again but this time
in print.... yeah that’s “write” I’m like Clark muhfuggin Kent yo! Except
instead of a tight lycra suit and a cape I’ll have a Vauxhall Astra with
Chichester Observer pasted all over it, same dif. Wow a disabled lady just walked
in with some very strange crutches with elbow rests? What kind of lazy woman has to rest her legs
and as well as her elbows? She doesn’t even look that disabled bet she’s
putting it on. That’s why she’s at the airport all those disability benefits
are sending her all inclusive to Alicante for a right old knees up, and elbows too
knowing her!
Thats all, I'm gong to France now.
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