Job. And Medical Emergencies

I've been trying to find a job. Something straightforward and low paying, as nobody is willing to take me on to do anything which is interesting or which might require any sort of skill. (It's because I'm too good you see. Apparently there's a medical term for that. Its called being delusional.)
I did a degree you see, which had the unfortunate side effect of making me UNEMPLOYABLE. When employers/people I end up working with ask me what I've been doing for the past 5 years, I don't want to have to tell them that I've got a degree (and a rather good 2:1 at that) because it's just embarrasing that I can't get a degree-worthy job. Not that there's anything wrong with doing a manual job, but it's just when you've spent three years studying and thinking you were securing some sort of career which would mean you would never have to work in a factory again, and were in fact just giving yourself a head start in 'how to be inept', it's hard not to look foolish.
I may as well get a hat that says 'I am a failure' and wear it everywhere I go.

So I'm looking for something which isn't telesales, managing or engineering. Unfortunately they are the only things I can seem to find advertised mostly, and none can I do. I did find two that I think I could do/have a chance being employed at, until I re-read one of the adverts and realised it said: 'an excellent telephone manner is essential' which means that suddenly there's only one job I might be any good at. (I actually lost a possible job because someone at an agency said I was rubbish on the phone.) So I think I'll have to try the other one. It said they wanted: 'Cheerful assistant for light production'.
Am I cheerful? I don't know. Light production? I thought at first it meant 'not heavy' but I think it means making lights. Actually it could mean a number of things. Why can't they be more specific?

Shoe Update

My shoe has been superglued and is operational. I have eaten onions and my stomach hurts. Ow ow ow.

Sales Pitch

Yes... I've sold out. As you can see I've added some links to the left, to some sites that promote blogs. If you want to also join and get more blog traffic, click on the links. Also if you do this it means I get more credits. Ahem. Anyway, the more credits you get, the more people visit your blog. So there you go. Enjoy. Message over.

Boulevard of Broken Shoes

My right trainer broke today. It happened when I was outside, I couldn't walk after that because the sole bit came off, (Well, the rubber bit at the bottom. That's not called the sole is it?) but not completely. It was still attatched at the end so every time I lifted my foot up it flipped out and it would end up folded underneath and sticking out. So now I have no shoes. They were only three years old. Dad thinks I should buy some more. But I have a really long big toe, and it's hard to find a pair that fits.

In the Stars this Week...

I've just read my horoscope:

This week's scenario is highlighted by your desire for pleasure, ease, and affection and may interfere with work or complicated situations in which you need to be acting assertively and on your own behalf.

In other words, I can't really be bothered. Same as every other week then.

Knock knock. Revisited.

I've finally got rid of the Top Gear theme tune. It was beginning to drive me up the wall. Oh look at that! A pun.

I was wondering last night why knock knock jokes haven't been updated since the arrival of modern technology. So I've decided to try a few variations:

Ring ring.
Who's there?
(Recorded message) Hello! This is the Canadian Lottery. You have just won a guaranteed £200,000 in a recent sweepstake! Unfortunately you must send cash overseas to cover the administration costs. Send £3000 to:
Fake Lottery Scams,
PO. BOX 329,
Toronto,
Canada.

Ring ring.
-Who's there?
Hello this is The Fishbait Loans Company. Have you recently taken out a loan/ are looking to incur huge financially crippling debts in the near future/ would like a new car? If so, why not consider taking out a loan with us? Have you considered our extortionate rates of interest, with a special offer of +50% for this month only? Plus, our friendly bayliffs (specially trained in all areas of martial arts combat, as well as brawling) are here to help when things hit rock bottom. So why wait? Take out a loan with us today!

Ring ring.
-Who's there?
Hello? Is that Sandra?
-No. Theres no Sandra here.
Oh, sorry wrong number.

Ring ring.
-Who's there?
No one. You've been cut off.

Ring ring.
-Who's there?
Hello, this is Boatphone Depository. Are your current phone bills too high? Would you like to reduce your monthly phone costs?
-No, I don't have a phone.

Or Emails:

You have 1 new message.
- Click.
S8ndr8 is w8ting 4 U. ThIS t1tle 1s wr1tten like th1s s0 it get5 thr*ugh PROce55ed me@t fi\ters wh1tch u SPECIFIC@LLY set up so U woulDn:t have to traWl thru uns0licit@d CR@P like this.
-Block Message
-Delete

Well I can see why they never caught on. Apart from the fact that they ignore the delicate structure of the traditional knock knock joke, they seem to be devoid of the joy and whimsy of modern life. I wonder why.

Have you noticed how new forms of communication are so informal? When I write an email, I always try to make it properly done like a letter or something, with the address at the top, the Sir/Madam, then Yours Sincerely. And then I get a reply like this:

Hi,
Thanks for the email.
Cheers,
Bob.

Great. And then there's text messages. I like to write all the words in full and not use abbreviations. This means I take ages to reply. By the time I answer one message I have been inundated with ten others, each asking 'R U still there?'.

The only subjects that seem to look comfortable alongside the excessive informality of a text message are usually along the lines of:

My m8 fancies ur m8, lts gt tgver, txt me bak.

Ugh.
Imagine if text messaging was around at the time Einstein worked out some theorums. If he had texted this to his friend Marcel Grossmann:

'A considerably simpler method for the investigation of the relative motion of matter with respect to the light ether has again occurred to me, which is based on ordinary interference experiments. If only inexorable destiny gives me the time and peace necessary to carry it out.'

He would have never been taken seriously. Instead he would have been met with the reply:

'Ur a card. My m8 fancies ur m8, lts gt dem tgver, txt me bak. Cheers, Marcel.'

And on reflection, Einstein would realise what he should have said was:

'Wkd, I fink I wrkd out how 2 do it. Meet U dwn the pub. Al.'

Televisual Entertainment and the Canine Audience: Social Scientific, Psychodynamic and Clinical Perspectives. Possibly by Marshall McLuhan.

My dog was watching Top Gear last night. She really enjoyed it, especially this bit where Jeremy Clarkson was trying to make a number 11 skid mark on the road in an old Porsche. My dog likes men and cars you see. She sees a man and goes all gooey and lies on her back, because she thinks that men = cars = going for a walk somewhere interesting. In a previous life she married 8 times, and she did it for the money.

Possibly the weirdest thing by far though, was that when my sisters' mobile rang part way through the programme, my dog got up to answer it.


And hopefully (With thanks to Queenie here and here, she doesn't know it but she inadvertantly helped me as I used some source code off one of her blogs to make the music play) you should be able to hear Jessica by The Allman Brothers Band playing. That's the Top Gear theme tune by the way (well, part of it, looped continuously over and over again until you all go maaad) I didn't know the proper name of the tune either, until I decided it would be hilarious to have it playing and decided to go and look it up. (I found out what it was called here.) Funnily enough, the BBC Snooker theme is by the Doug Wood Band. And the moral of that story is, if you want to write BBC theme tunes, the trick is to name your group after yourself, and then put the word 'band' after it.

Hmm

I took this picture yesterday. I was trying to photograph the pigeon sitting on the fence on top of the bridge, but you can't see the pigeon, but instead there's a jogger under the bridge. Wow. I know this is boring. But Sundays are not interesting at all are they? Or is it only me who thinks so? Even the most interesting thing would seem boring on a Sunday. That is why this post seems so dull, because it was created on a Sunday.

The Upholsterer:- A Comic Strip of Badly Measured Proportions

Here is The Upholsterer in his first comic strip, the thing you've all been waiting for! Or possibly not. Here's the first short post (and lovely picture) I made about The Upholsterer's background, for those of you who have either forgotten or didn't happen to read it. I post a link because if you read it, the comic strip will probably make more sense. Or less. Enjoy.

CappuTeano!

Since Lizzy reminded me about the CappuTeano, I've decided to make my tagboard into the first CappuTeano Cafe.

Capputeano is a very small, but nevertheless potent brand that will attempt to fend off the Starbucks coffee outlets that continue to impose themselves on the high street. There are none where I live yet, but when I went to London a while ago I counted 3. Yes, 3. On the same road. Admittedly we were walking round in circles at the time, but that's hardly the point. So that is the philosophy behind the CappuTeano, now for the product itself.

It stems from an accident I once had while making a beverage of some sort. I couldn't decide whether to have tea or coffee. I decided on coffee, but by some strange twist of fate as I put the spoonful of instant coffee into the cup I discovered that I had already put in a teabag. I poured the hot water on anyway and proceeded to drink the mixture. Voila! The CappuTeano was born. Double the Caffine, twice the taste.

So, seeing as the internet does not yet have a coffee machine feature, something which I am rather annoyed about, I invite you all to make your own CappuTeanos, and snub Starbucks. And chat in the small cafe to your left.

Biscuits Cook. It's a Bit of a Kerfuffle.

Slightly concerned about that job application I sent the other day. I had to come up with two documentary ideas to send with my CV. The thing is, I'm a bit of a conspiracy theorist, so I came up with the two most controversial ideas ever for documentaries which no TV station would ever show. Not unless they wanted to massively criticise either the media organisation that they themselves are inevitably part of, or the government.

I did it on purpose, you see, because I don't like documentaries. The reason I don't like documentaries is because of the same thing that one of the documentary ideas I had would be about. So in a way I'm criticising documentaries through an idea for a documentary in a weird post-modernist parallel kind of way in order to get or not get (I havent decided yet. I just don't know. Oh why am I such a mass of contradictions?) a job. I don't think any of that paragraph that makes any sense, but I hope you know what I mean.

I'm not worried if they turn me down, it's what would happen if they wanted to hire me that's worrying. Would I become the next Roger Cook? Would I ever be able to go down the shops again? Will I be firebombed?
Don't you hate it when your principles come along and kick you in the head?

I think sometimes I have an overactive imagination. I am hoping that this time is also a sometime. Help me people! What do I really want? I don't know anymore.

Hear The Bongo Cupboard!

Yes, you can now hear how very bongo-like the bongo sounding cupboard really is. It's amazing. I'm sure you will be inspired to tap similar household objects. Go here.

A Thinking Day

I tried to go on tour with my bongo-drum-sounding-cupboard this morning. Unfortunately no bookings because noone is interested. And all because I'm not a revered cupboard playing professional! Maybe I'll go busking to get some experience. While I'm here, are there any takers for a one-woman, cupboard-beating show?

Lizzy (AKA Lily, wow she has an alias!!!) reminded me in her comment below that I had an epithany this afternoon. Here it be in case I forget it, else it will no longer be life changing, and therefore not a epithany, and I will stop talking like an olde worldy scholar.
I discovered what I am afraid of. I knew I was afraid of something, but I didn't know what of. Life! I am scared of life. I do not joke. I want everything to stay the same and then when I don't progress, I get stressed that everything has stayed the same and everyone else has moved on. I thank you all at the C4 comedy forum who have inadvertantly given me therapy. All I have to do now is learn not to be scared. Any ideas?

Progress of Sorts. Like Allsorts but not Liquorice.

The Upholsterer is getting himself a move on now. I've done the drawings. I did them all on A4, a mistake as it took AGES. Next time I will make them smaller. Now all I have to do is scan them in to the computer, and colour them in. I hope the computer that the scanner is attached to can cope.

I just applied for a position as Graduate Trainee at a documentary making company. I've never seen an ad like that before, let alone applied for it, so I applied anyway. The only catch is I hate documentaries. They make me angry. And I can imagine if I worked for this company I would become very bitter indeed, even moreso than I already am. I don't watch documentaries as a matter or principle, to preserve my own health. But hopefully, if the current trend continues, they will refuse my application. Phew.

Discovery

I've discovered that a cupboard in the bathroom makes a noise exactly like a bongo drum.

No Doorstep Sellers

Last night at 2 O'clock ish, (yes, I'm a night surfer) I was dismayed to discover a junk mail pyramid selling thing had been posted in the comments section of my last post! I never thought I'd have to say this in a blog, but, no canvassers please!

Honestly. You try and avoid the real world by emigrating to the internet and what happens? The real world intrudes. Typical!

That's gratitude for you.

I have been reliably informed that the people I draw look.... like they're mad. Thanks dad! I was drawing a person to go on his website at the time too. Charming! Do you think they look mad?

Something

I'm now working on a comic strip of The Upholsterer. So far I've written out what's going to happen (roughly). It's taking me ages to draw everything though. Some of it I had to pose in front of the mirror for, so I could draw convincing positions for the figures. Of course it also had the effect of making me look extremely stupid. But what's new.

Bringing you the best of the web, on the web.

While searching for pictures of recycling plants on Google image search (as you do) I came across this.

It was entitled:

13 June, 2002
The Prince of Wales inspects a slag recycling plant near Krakow, Poland.

Isn't it just the funniest picture ever?
Edit: I did have the picture posted, but then I noticed a copyright notice. So I've decided I don't want to be sued, and posted a link instead.

Attempting to be useful

I've been making a website for my dad today. I hate making websites! Well, boring ones anyway. Boring businessy ones. It's so frustrating when the stupid rollovers screw up, leaving you with a page which disappears whenever you put your mouse over the 'home' link. And then you discover that you forgot to add an extra link, and then you have to add the same link to about a million pages... and it's all very finnicky and frustrating. Argh. What ever made me think I wanted to make websites for a living?
Well it's just as well I can't actually get a job then, isn't it? Yes. Indeed it is.

A Superhero for a Postmodern Era

I've just created a superhero for no apparent reason. He even has a background:-

Created and then discarded, The Upholsterer was made using off-cuts of MDF and left-over curtain fabric by Lawrence Llewellyn-Bowen during an episode of Changing Rooms which was never aired. This superhero is a modern monster, representing the folly of today's throwaway society. Tormented by his abandonment in the dustbin of a two-up, two-down terrace, The Upholsterer wanders the Earth in search of those who betrayed him.

His purpose: To rid the world of television make over shows, and to offer hope to the contents of bins everywhere through his quest to retrieve those who were rejected. A curtain pole which serves as both flag and skewer, is his weapon of choice.

I demand that Hugh Jackman bloke plays him in a film. Now.

For goodness sake

Go to bed Biscuits. Do you know what time it is?
Alright then.

Tag board

Look down and to the left and you will see my new tag board. Post a lovely tag in it for me. I'm not sure about the colour scheme I've chosen, but they're the only two colours that almost match. Oh I love free stuff.

Culture

Did anyone else watch that Jerry Springer the Opera thing on BBC2 last night? I woke up this morning and wondered if I had actually dreamt it. It was quite amusing and well done, although I can see why some people were offended by it. The most surreal moment had to be just before the second half came on, and the announcer (I think it was Kirsty Wark) said in her best Newsnight voice something like 'In the second half of the opera, as Jerry Springer descends into hell, you may find the language and religious imagery offensive etc.' It was the first bit, 'as Jerry Springer descends into hell' that made me laugh my head off. I mean I never expected to hear a phrase like that spoken completely seriously by Kirsty 'Newsnight' Wark as she described an opera. I thought I'd sat on the remote (again) and accidentally turned over to a spoof type programme or something.

I felt somewhat confused after watching it, though. On the one hand, I felt cultured, on the other, crap. Because I had just watched an opera, and yet, it was about Jerry Springer. I think they cancel each other out. One thing I can say is that it certainly made me think. I'm not sure what about though.

Blinded by the light

Day 59: Lost count of what number of day it is. The sun is shining through my window and I can't see my computer screen. It is also dusty which does not help. I bet Robinson Crusoe never had this problem.
I got another job application rejection letter today. Don't worry I'm used to it now, and they are beginning to become faintly amusing. This letter said I have a 'great CV', of course this could be a lie but I'll take it as a compliment. Also the bloke who signed the letter has the HUGEST signature ever.

Mystic Biscuits. Or not.

I got some Tarot cards for Christmas, and (don't laugh) a few days ago I did a reading. Not that I'm a new-age mad woman or anything. Not that there's anything wrong with being a new-age mad woman. But I am not. Anyway, it said I should specialise and stop being a 'jack of all trades'. Well, at least that's what I think it said. Great. But specialise in what? I've been thinking hard about this for a while. Maybe I should specialise in being a new-age mad woman. Yes. Who wants a Tarot reading?

Actually, that's a good idea, although I warn you I am not a professional. The world may explode. That happened once, actually and I had to quickly put everything back before anyone noticed. Inevitably I had a few problems. While I was ironing the fabric of the universe, the phone rang. When I got back, there was a large black hole in the centre of space. Also, I accidentally ripped a triangular-shaped hole in the space-time continuum somewhere around Bermuda. Let me know if you encounter any problems which seemingly go against the laws of physics.

Music

Aha! I've finally done it. If you go here, hopefully you should be able to hear the new tune I've recorded (you'll need Windows Media Player to play it) I'm not sure what it's meant to be, but it's something anyway. The recording is of quite low quality, partly to do with how I recorded it, and also to do with loss of quality when I saved it for the web. But still, it's hearable. I'm going to call it, Evening Sunset, because that's what I think it sounds like.

Eats, Sheeps and Leaks

My dad has been looking at the new building regulations online. He wants to fix the roof, only apparently they've added miles of red tape and pointless beurocracy to DIYing. This means you have to get people to sign stuff, inspect stuff, and, well it's a long story and there are pages worth of it and I wouldn't want to bore you. In the short of it, it all means lots of shiny new jobs for the power wielding officials. Or whatever they're called.
So it looks like drip no.2, which is located just above my sock drawer, will remain there for some time. I think I will refer to it as my en-suite, walk in shower.

I suppose I'll just have to make friends with it while I wait for drip no.3 to arrive. I want dry socks. Of course I could take them out of the drawer, but I refuse to give in to authority.

Stuff

This morning I decided to substitute my usual negative outlook with a more optimistic one, because I'm fed up with being miserable. But it is hard. I wrote 'The end of the world is not nigh' 27 times. Only it made me more miserable, so instead I wrote 'The end of the world is nigh' 27 times. Which made me feel better, but completely defeated the object.

Anyway. I've been trying to record a tune, oh wait I should say 'composition' on the computer. It took me ages (3 hours, with NO CHAIR) to get it to record properly, and even now the bits I've managed to record are still a bit dodgy sounding. All this resulted in me doing that thing where you try and smash up the computer without actually breaking it. I tap the screen very gently, and even throw things. But only light, soft things.

Snooker

I finally got my Rileys' snooker club membership card through the door the other day, despite actually renewing my membership about 3 months ago. Don't let this fact make you think I can actually play, I am very rubbish at snooker. The reason I joined is because very occasionally I go there with a couple of friends, and being a member is cheaper. A key word. Write it down, cheaper. Once I even bought a little chalk thing from one of those machines, like sweet dispensers, only filled with chalk. I was so pleased. It didn't taste very nice though.

This got me thinking about snooker and how it really is a very strange game. I mean, people standing round a table, poking a white ball with a long stick, trying to make the white ball hit a coloured ball into a strange pocket resembling a string bag for containing satsumas. If I'd have suggested that, people would have just LAUGHED.
Of course if I'd have suggested snooker, it would be a slightly different game to the one we have today. The picture above is an artist's impression. For a start, the cue ball would be made from marble and the size of a large house. Of course this would mean the players would also look less like Steve Davis, and more like contestants of 'The Worlds Strongest Man.' And they'd wear black boots. Because. There would also be many cue stick breakages as the contestants struggle to push around the huge marble ball, up hills, over dales and yonder. People would be killed. It would be extreme. Ly stupid.

Urgent Reminder:

Biscuits will eat herself.

New Year

An interesting new years' day. While at a friends' house I accidentally drank too much, kissed a small pretend robin on a Christmas tree, and at one point was member of 'Team Drunk' during a trivia question game. We lost. My friend says I am now to be known as 'the secret drinker' (like the R. Whites ad but without the lemonade I suppose) as I somehow managed to consume a bottle of hock without anyone noticing. How embarrassing.

When I went to bed I had a strange dream. My dog was sort of a leader of the universe(a bit like Dogbert from Dilbert in a way, except she wasn't as evil) and she told me to do things, but I couldn't manage to do them. Except she couldn't actually talk, I think it was through telepathy or something, and this was all happening while I had a massive craving for a chocolate milkshake. Quite. I really hope this isn't the shape of things to come.

NOTICE:

Could the owner of the blue reception desk please report to the red ford fiesta please? Thank you.