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Friday, 31 May 2019

The observationist: Jobs

The observationist: Jobs: ' Jobbe of worke' circa 1550. Jobs have always been an integral part of life whether you get paid in money or kind. Most adults an...

Jobs

' Jobbe of worke' circa 1550.

Jobs have always been an integral part of life whether you get paid in money or kind. Most adults and some kids have jobs. We can't send kids up chimneys anymore because apparently it's illegal but we are still allowed to make them carry a bag, often heavier than themselves, full of newspapers to houses where the internet hasn't been invented yet and old men answer the door wearing a dressing gown. The kids are then paid 2 pence an hour for the privilege. Go figure. I had a paper round once for about 3 weeks. I hated it. It was during that 3 week period  i discovered, at age 14, that adults can be absolute bell ends about stupid shit like 'where's my Sunday supplement?' 'why's my newspaper wet?' 'who's done my crossword?' Twats. It was mutually agreed with myself and the newsagent owner that i should probably leave.
My eldest daughter has a job. she's a dog walker. She earns her own money. My youngest does jobs around the house to earn hers. Either way both girls have to earn it. I don't get money given to me and neither do they. You may think this is harsh but it's a life lesson taught to me by my dad who, according to him, was down the pit at 5 years old and joined the circus to be a human cannon ball when he was 8. I suspect he may be telling a little white lie.
I've  had a variety of jobs since leaving school because like most folk i didn't know what i wanted to do or be. My eldest wants to be a hairdresser and that hasn't wavered since she was a toddler. Girlchild number two however likes to think outside the box and wanted to be a water feature for a number of years. You may think that's slightly weird but the most interesting people i know are slightly weird. She is now a published poet and motorbike road racing photographer at age 13. See-interesting.
When, as young adults, we enter the job market we have to face the dreaded interview. This process doesn't get any easier no matter how old you get. Interviews are nerve racking because you have to bring the best version of yourself to an unfamiliar place and tell complete strangers how awesome you are without sounding like a self serving cock womble. It's a fine line. You have your c.v scrutinised like your about to enter it into the T.T and you sit there sweating wondering if the embellishments you've added will be noticed. Fibs like your actual exam results might not be as good as you've made them out to be or not to be (a little joke there for anyone who scored above a 'd' in English literature)  Hobbies and interests is always a good read. Who knew that skinny little mousey Carol on reception was once a Dutch wrestling champion or big Keith in the warehouse enjoys embroidery or that ugly Mike the delivery driver likes nothing better than to slip on a tight sequinned dress and perform as his alter ego-Michaela-at a drag club and belt out Shirley Bassey's greatest hits. C.v's are very rarely checked for authenticity apart from the references so next time you type yours my advice is go to town on it. Be all you want to be and stand out. Ultimately this will get you an interview and possibly the job.
In my job i occasionally get to sit at the other side of the desk and do panel interviews with my boss. We are good cop/bad cop. I am always bad cop. I like genuine folk and can spot bullshit a mile off. The blokes seem to be the worst offenders at spouting absolute bollocks although we did once interview a 30 stone woman for the position of set runner who claimed to be a trapeze artist. Often a male interviewee will attempt to flirt with me because they think if they flatter me i'll give them the job. Once they start with flirty banter or 'flanter' they may as well leave. Flanter at your peril. Interviews are a boring necessity to find the best candidate for the job not the best candidate for a blow job.
The workplace can be a minefield. Who is a friend? who will stitch you up like a kipper? who is the office perv? who is the office bike? who is the office dickhead? If you don't think your workplace has a dickhead, chances are, it's you.
If your'e lucky enough to have a job and can just about keep your head above water then your'e officially a grown up. If you have a job you hate you probably wish you were still a kid. If your'e in the very small minority and have a job you love your'e a fucking show off. I'm one of those show offs. It's not the best paid job in the world but i get to do something i love-most of the time. Standing around in the rain or cold for hours on end waiting for the lighting to be just right or an actor to remember their dialogue is not my favourite thing and those who work with me under these conditions will freely testify that i am prone to whingeing like someone who has just lost a whingeing competition. The down sides of working mostly from home are i can't ring in sick and i don't get invited to office parties.
Office parties are the sort of events that come under the 'what happens at the party stays at the party' rule. Most people who attend these functions see it as an opportunity to let their hair down and show their work colleagues what they're really like. Some people go that step further and will spend most of the evening getting horribly drunk, call their boss a c**t then attempt to finger Alison from accounts underneath the buffet table-or worse case scenario...Michaela. Happy days.
Worse than the office party by a mile are those awful team building days where some fucktard from H.R will arrange for everyone to go paintballing or bowling or an escape room. It's enforced fun and now your'e having to spend a day off work with the shithouses you spend your working life trying to avoid. Especially Dave whose B.O is so bad you can taste it and cross eyed Kelly who has one eye going to the shops and one coming back with the change, but worst of all is your boss who has the worst halitosis known to mankind. He has the sort of breath that can actually repel mints and could easily kill a small child or a sick pensioner.
Work is a necessity for most people in order to live so either leave the job you hate or do something different. Only you are in charge of the path you take. Embellish your c.v and leave the twatty mundane jobs to the twatty and mundane. 

Thursday, 9 May 2019

The observationist: Sex

The observationist: Sex: I can comment on this as i have two children so i've definitely done it twice. Sex used to be a taboo topic but these days everyone'...

Sex

I can comment on this as i have two children so i've definitely done it twice. Sex used to be a taboo topic but these days everyone's talking about it which isn't necessarily a good thing. It doesn't matter how old i get if i hear my parents mention it i do a sick in my mouth and then poke out my mind's eye. It' almost like the human race has only just discovered fornication.
 There are so many different sexual orientations that the good old hetrosexual is virtually passe. Back back back in the day we had straight, gay and bisexual but now we have transgender, transsexual, binary, non-binary, gender fluid (which i thought was something found on prostitute's handbag) and pan sexual...wtf is pan sexual? is it someone who masturbates into crockery or gets aroused by Peter Pan?
I'm a hetro female because i fancy men. I'm not at any point going to think 'hey, you know what...i think i'm going to sample drinking from the furry cup'. Other women are not my thing although i do appreciate the female form and all of it's flaws and imperfections because i am one. I like muscles, hairy chests, beards and willys, although some might argue that the first three of my criteria can be found in the lesbian community anyway.
Once you've seen one nob you've pretty much seen them all. The variations are only slight ranging from length to girth. If your'e lucky you'll get the holy grail-both. For those of us ladies that have given birth vaginally to one or more children girth is very important. You can't make dough with a needle as my dear old nan used to say who was also a mum of three.
As a hetro woman i'd like to point out that nobody, straight or otherwise, likes-as i refer to it-a spaghetti cock. These are the longish skinny members that wouldn't touch the insides of a drinking straw. Neither use nor ornament. Don't come at me with one of those because you'll be wasting my time and yours.
If your'e lucky enough to be having sex in the first place then good for you. If your'e lucky enough to be having good sex then your'e living the dream. I have friends who haven't had sex for years. Not because they're unattractive but because they just haven't met anyone. Today's 'sex market' has tools to aid you in your quest such as Tinder, grindr, CFNM parties and loads of others but we as people still prefer to clap eyes on someone at work or in a club and think 'i wouldn't mind a go on that'. Animal instinct is what drives us and ultimately what makes us procreate and keep the world turning.

Sexual positions are a relatively recent invention despite what the karma sutra claims. You have the standard three (or the holy trinity) that most sexually active people will have experienced. The missionary, or mummy and daddy sex, is probably the most common. Lying down, man on top pumping away like a sewing machine in a power surge. This position is ideal for intimacy as it's face to face so lip and eye contact are an inevitable delicious bi-product. If your'e only using this position then you really need to open your mind or run for the hills. It's the one position where you'd most likely hear 'pull my nightie down when your'e finished love'. Not very imaginative but does the job. On top is a favourite of the female as she is in control of the outcome. From behind, or the doggy position, tends to be a favourite of the fellas as he's in control here when the rest of his waking day he's being told to pick up his clothes, take the rubbish out or cut the grass. Although pleasurable for both parties the bloke will tend to 'go off' first much to the annoyance of his partner. This will often result in the silent treatment, which to some men might be blessed relief or sex being removed from the agenda for a month. Us women like this position because it means we don't have to look at the ridiculous faces men pull at the point of no return. I have been known to actually burst out laughing which is a bit off putting. One draw back of the doggy position is when air is pumped into the recipient resulting in a fanny fart or quife which can send the guy's love length flying out at such a rate of knotts he could have his own eye out or get whiplash. If this happens to you my recommendation is simply to style it out.
Obviously there a lots of other positions which i've looked up for research purposes only. Some have really bizarre names like 'the wheelbarrow' (go on then i'll try it but don't take me past my mum's house) 'the rocking horse', 'the catherine wheel', 'the bridge', 'reverse cowgirl' (good for the less well endowed fellas), 'the plough' (similar to the wheelbarrow but in a field-i imagine), 'the toad' and the beautifully named 'ascent to desire'. Look them up. They exist and coming to a sex life near you! I've tried a few on the list but unless i warm up beforehand i'm more likely these days to get cramp than climax.
For some folk sex isn't enough to get their freak on. They need extra stimulus and i'm not talking about sex toys like the rampant rabbit, finger bobs or the bully boy black prince anal intruder. I'm talking about kinks and fetishes. Swinging, dogging, impact play, bondage and voyeurism are listed in the top ten of British favourites.You've probably heard of all of those or maybe practise a few but what about omorashi? This is becoming or being aroused by observing their partner wetting themselves. I imagine omorashi practitioners who happen to be single would do alright hanging around the back of a pub or club at kicking out time. Teratophilia is a sex fetish that involves being attracted to people with physical deformities. I bet the hunch back of notre dame was beating them off with a stick. Coprophilia or scatophilia is a poo fetish, where the person likes nothing better than to observe his or her partner having a shit crouched on a glass coffee table while they lie under it. Legend has it that hitler was a fan of this particular fetish. To be fair if watching someone curl one out over glass seems disgusting he did do a lot worse. It also makes me wonder if this was the real reason my neighbours were barred from DFS. They do have pampas grass in their front garden which incidentally is the international bat signal for 'swingers live here'. The kink that amused me the most is dendrophilia or arbophilia which is when someone is sexually attracted to trees. It brings a whole new meaning to the term 'tree hugger' or 'i've got wood'. A friend of mine at uni used to post her worn knickers to people on line for a fee. It paid her way through her degree. Another friend of mine is a dominatrix and her best client likes her to lock him in her shed while she shouts 'slag!' through the keyhole.
To conclude this weeks blog i'd like to finish with a simple request. Where can i purchase a bully boy black prince anal intruder?
Asking for a friend...