I feel a total jerk before your naked body of work
As a big fan of Victorian erotica, I feel I may have read many of the lines created by the Victorian Sex Cry Generator before.
via The Sesquipedalian
Billy Bragg, Sexuality
As a big fan of Victorian erotica, I feel I may have read many of the lines created by the Victorian Sex Cry Generator before.
via The Sesquipedalian
Billy Bragg, Sexuality
Yay! It’s about time someone came to the defence of Jess Lemon and had a go at some fanboys’ habits of dissing anyone who tries to tell them how comics could be more inviting to new readers.
Even if we are forced to buy comics in dark little shops with an unpleasant stench of mad people’s sweat, there’s no reason to keep them there.
More fun from the Top Gear site. How much of a car anorak are you.
Sent to me by Marcus, who is a car anorak but only managed to get six. Hell, I got six, and I ride a bike! You’re just not trying hard enough Tinsley.
Madness, Driving In My Car
Oh, if only it weren’t true.
My job was (grasps for diplomatic word) uninspiring enough before it was confirmed that I’m clerical support. No offence to the clerics out there, but as far as I’m concerned they can support themselves- it’s not a job I’m any good at or care enough about to become any good at. But it’s money, and my creditors are desperate enough that I need to keep on going in. For longer now, as well, because mister work smarter not harder (who visits from some other office every so often) seems to equate hours with intelligence. The extra cash in my pocket covers, and little more, the increased cost incurred by using the train, so my creditors can’t expect my payments to go up, thank you.
Of course, I’m not that inspired any more by the job I did for four years at The Gas and despair of ever getting the training needed to stay current, let alone move on to the big boys of the database field. Of course, I have to keep applying for jobs developing in Access, because that’s what I have experience in. You can imagine I feel a little trapped.
So, fuck it. It’s time for a change of direction and emphasis. From now on jobs are for my benefit, not the employers. In this case I’ll turn up, do the job to the best of my ability, go away and pocket my money every week. No pretence that I want to be supporting the clerics next week, let alone next year, because I’m on the lookout for a better job. One where I can learn to use SQL Server, Oracle, php or C++, that’s within cycling distance (10 miles) and where I can meet people I have more in common with than a shared employer.
On Tuesday I’m going for an interview to get on a part time Graphic Design course, which is part of a longer term plan to make me happier with my work. If I get on it I’ll probably find that cutting back to four days a week in the office isn’t deemed a smart enough way to work. Which’ll be their loss really.
Anyway, rant over. I just went to Bike Doc to get a new saddle for my mountain bike, because I’m too much of a wuss for the razor blade it currently has. I think I’ve found the bike I want to trade my commuter in for. My Marin Larkspur is a quality bike, but it’s a little too…. civilised, for me. I think a Muirwoods is more my style. Another reason to get a job within cycling distance.
Martha & The Muffins, Echo Beach