February 7th, 2002

I've eaten so...

So I go to this job interview and I think the jobs to do with advertising, no, it sales and marketing and the whole thing just isn't me. To start with there was the place, BRMB was on the radio, I hate BRMB(it's a crap local station, when I worked part time for 3 months they played BRMB, it was just 'Angels' by Robbie Williams, 'Mambo Number 5' by whoever the fuck did it, 'Livin' La Vida Loca' by Ricky Martin and 'Man...I Feel Like A woman' By Shania Twain over and over again). The only Newspaper in the place was The Sun:
1. I hate Rupert Murdoch.
2. I hate Tabloids.
3. I hate tabloids owned by aformentioned slimey bastard.
4. I hate, hate, HATE, The Sun.
The girl working there had never even heard of David Lynch, she could only talk about getting 'so' drunk(well I believe she said 'bladdered') and clubs(lloyd no like clubs, lloyd try to avoid getting drunk for reasons of his past).
I'd have to go to peoples homes, I'm not a people person, I don't like people, I don't like crowds and I cannot make small talk so all in all the only thing I would like from that place is the money which I can live without if it means not becoming a boiling cauldron of soulless fury and hatered because of a where I wolk and who I work with.