Shabba Wanks

So...as my adventure in what I've come to think of more with every passing day as a office based game of Big Brother draws to a close, so a brand new (and, ironically, the last) series of Big Brother starts.
Did you watch it readers?
Me and the wife tend to watch the opening show every year just so we can say "he's a dick", "Slaaaag", "ohmygod, she's not going to be annoying at AALL", and generally feel a little better about ourselves 'cos the fame hungry, untalented, human detritus that enters the big brother house is so low down the evolutionary food chain that it kinda makes us feel like the GODS OF ALL WE SURVEY.

And last night was no different.
Of the fourteen people that entered, only one of them stood out, to me at least, as a decent human being.
Can't remember what his name is, but he's a mountain of a man with one eye and no legs after getting blown up while serving his country in Northern Ireland.
Salt of the earth type.

Now I've said that, I expect he'll go on to prove himself to be massive wanker that I detest.

The rest of the housemates thou...what a shower of shit.
however, I'm sure the girl from Bristol said "oooh I'm a Randy Badger" as she entered the house..so that wins her a thumbs up from me.
Also, Davina appeared to have a MASSIVE camel toe going on.
which made me feel slightly icky at points.

It's (finally) my last day tomorrow.
Then me, Chadwick, Rubberdave, Lanky and the Seemunks are off to the pub.

I honestly dunno what's gonna happen to this 'ere blog after tomorrow...If I'll keep on writing it or not...
Fresh start 'n all that.

However, I HAVE said about a zillion times before and I always find myself coming back to you.
But..
If I don't.
Take care 'n that.

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East Anglian Window Dressing

Day 4902 in the Big Brother House...
And we've reached the final week.

This mornin', to add irony to this weeks eviction, a stack of work has been given to DM who was hopin' to spend his last week in the house doing naff all except drink tea and not panic in the slightest about what to do next.

DM heads to the diary roooon to ask Big Brother exactly why he should give a shit.

Yes, Readers. This is it.
My Last Week.
And I'm doing ok...Head's held high and I'm not freaking out toooooo much about what the future holds.
Looking forward, mostly, to walking out of here on Friday lunch time and not looking back.
And then going directly to the pub.
To get pissed.
Nice.
Who's with me?

Then buying an awesomely awesome new telly.
and some Hen.
And, surprisingly, watching some football.
I've not thought much further than that, to be honest.

Interesting weekend behind us that saw me drinking far too much (even by my standards), playing some Red Dead Redemption (which I'm really preferring quite a lot to GTA4 as it happens), and wondering if 'Tina was going to start claiming Squatters rights on my sofa.
It amazes me that he'll STILL walk into my house, populated by myself, Mrs DM and the three lovely Monkey Jnrs, say a "Do ya mind?" and, before an answer has been given, strip down to his pants.

That shit was funny when we were in our teens...but now...well...it's a bit embarrassing.
However, it was made up for by my children covering him in toys and magazines and nappies and whatever crap they could get their hands on again while he slept.
Always cheers me up, that.

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One Shit Does Plenty

Today sees me trying to be the master of mood swings
'cos I'm swinging between total giggling mania, feeling like a rat trapped in a cage and sheer...fuckin'....panic.

I also have a writers block that's about a mile tall and my level of self confidence to survive in the outside world is currently at 0%. So bear with me...
Oh Yeah. Today..I'm feeling The Fear.

Remember that bit in Fallout 3 when you leave the vault for the first time and you're blinded by the sun and then, when your eyes adjust there's this Massive open world in front of you?
'member that?
And how your first thought, as you took in the expansive panorama that was suddenly in front of you, was along the lines of "Yey ! I'm out...now the game can REALLY begin!"
Do you remember how then, as you snuck around the wasteland, you stumbled across a mission, or some mutants or a fireant...whatever...something that you were just not equipped to deal with at that point...
And you got TOTALLY Pwned...and you thought "aah Shizzle. This ain't gonna be easy asI thought"
Yeah? remember that?

Or maybe you made it to Megaton safe and sound and you wanted to fix them leaking pipes around the place but you weren't levelled up enough on the ole handyman skills yet to do so...
Or you decided that, after talking to that shifty stranger, you were gonna set the bomb off, but couldn't...
BlahBlah..etc etc..

My point, if I have one (which I might not. I am, after all, making this up as I go), is that this is kinda how I'm feeling this week.
I'm happy...elated almost, that the end is in sight and I'll be out of this particular office shaped Vault VERY soon..
But the thought of being free...and not having a job yet...or even having REALLY decided what I want to do when I grow up...do I want to carry on working in IT?
Maybe finally get that degree I want?
Write the book that I keep threatening to write?

So yea, I got these feelings of indecision, self doubt and uncertainty whilst feeling the full weight of family/mortgage/bills/ and other shitty grown up responsibilities resting firmly on my shoulders...and well...to put it frankly, dear reader, it's more than a little fucking scary when, y'know, you stop to think to about it.
It's like looking over a cliff that you know you've got to jump off soon while not being able to see what what's at the bottom.
It's like getting your balls on the windscreen on car when you're not sure if, y'know, they're actually doggers or if it's something you should be doing on Saturday afternoon in the Asda car park.

In short, I am relating a lot to Luke in Empire when Vader was kicking his arse all over Bespin and he jumped down one of those stupid exhaust pipes that little George seemed so fond of.
And, very shortly, I'm going to find myself hanging upside down from a car ariel waiting for Lando to arrive in the Falcon and wrap me up in a tin foil cloak.
But I dunno if Leia's heard me mental shout out yet.

Hmm.
In other news....
Red Dead Redemption and all the horse riding joy that lies there-in.
I simply CAN NOT BELIEVE that we have not heard from JW on this subject.

Discuss.

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It's the most Mooogical time..of the year...

Well. Here we are again. The End of May.
My least favorite time of the year.

It's the time of year when, ever since I was a weeee baaaain, the universe enjoys opening up it's wrinkled ring piece and farting it's most noxious marsh gas into my open mouth.
In case you're interested, I did some research and pulled up the past few years posts for this time of year. The more observant among you may notice a pattern (as opposed to slattern, as I originally typed...If, however, you DO notice a slattern then please share with the rest of us. thanks)

May 2009

Bit of a Year off from misery in 2008 as I was distracted by 'Team Snake and the Recording Studio of Doom'.
However, recently viewed video footage reveals that I look as tired and miserable as a flipping saggy twat that's been plunged into ice cold water after being pumped by Shatners Bassoon for days on end during most of it.

 May 2007

2006 only goes back to August, I'm afraid.
Of course, my old "Enter the Drunken Monkey" (ooer) went back further but, due to shenanigans and bumcheese, that's all gone the way of the dogwank.

In short, I Hate the End of May.
It's always when I feel the lowest. It's always when I start punching myself in the spiritual face about how shit I am, how crap life is, wasn't I a massive wanker back in the day..
BlahdeBlahdeBlahdeFuuuuuckin' BLAH.

And this year...well...this year is proving to be the worst in a looooong time.
Staring down the barrel of redundancy
For reasons I'm a little unsure of, Skinter than a skint thing on skint day.
The Neighbours are vile and horrible and scum and should be killed to DETH (possibly with the wrong end of a spoon)
I still don't own Red Dead Redemption.
The Eldest turns Ten on Saturday (which makes her too close to being a teenager that boys will want to do things to for my liking)
and so on and so forth.

I really need a holiday.
And a big bag of Nelsons best herbal delight.
If anyone can assist with either, Please let me know..

Cheer up, DM...Cheer up.
It'll all be over by Jizzmas

UPDATE...and I've just had a letter from the PigFarm telling me that I'm being done for speeding. 36 mph on a country road. Whilst doing a good deed for the sister-in-law, no less. It just keeeeps on getting better.

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On and On, South of Heaven.

Now....
He kicks the door shut, shooting a glance around the room, holding a finger to his lips in the universal sign language that says "if any of you fukin' dicks makes a sound, I'll take great pleasure in executing every single last one of you in the most bloody and horrific manner I can think of...and, being that I'm the spawn of satan, that's pretty bloody horrific, let me tell you, sunshine!"
He puts his pointed demon ear to the door and listens to the unmistakable sound of heavily armed soldiers troop past...his hand slides down to the holster on his hip and unclips his machine pistol, flicking the safety off. His demon eye flashes red, he mutters under his breath, "Ok, you have my attention, you heavenly fuckwad. I swear on Stinkys' pubes that I'm gonna nail your nutsack to the cross for this.."

Two days ago...
A house party in Anytown, Suburbia. UK.
Downstairs, a thumping bass track...umm...thumps...various people dance as well as you can dance to a thumping bass track when out of your face on Scrumpy jack.
Amid the broken lamp shades, overturned paper plates and general detritus that a party of this type normally generates, a small drunken Teddy Bear sways on his small drunken feet, waving a beercan around in the air, "I tells you," he says in a drunken teddy bear voice,"hiccup...She's the most boootiful woman in the whole wide world...to see her..is to faaarkin' love her..she's an aaaaangel, she is. 'ere, you got a light?l"
Upstairs, a couple are making love. loudly. and energetically.
The very air around them crackles with cosmic electricity.She climaxes suddenly, loudly and then sits up, hair a mess and her face set firmly to stun.
He reaches up and pulls her back down and together they crumble into a sexy,moist,knackered heap.
"Ahh.." She sighs contentedly, patting him on the head when he rolls over to lights them a ciggie each, "That was loooovely"

Suddenly, bright light; REALLY Bright Light floods the house...like the house itself had suddenly been picked up and deposited inside an extremely large, comedy sized 100watt light bulb...
The Windows smash, acrid smoke fills the room, Unseen assailants are firing shots in the bed before the couple have even had a chance to reach for their weapons (of which they have many)...
Blinded by the light and multiple bullet wounds, He feels her being dragged forcibly from the bed...a deep, booming voice says "Mine, I believe..."
"FUUUUCK YOU!! I GOT AWAY! YOU'RE MEANT TO LEAVE ME ALONE IF I GETS AWAY, LIMPDICK!" He hears her voice yell, Pride swells in his chest, How he loves her...
"oh..." the Booming voice replies, "and that would be the case, you Would be free..if it was any angel but YOU...You see, You're special..Look, I even came in person..."
Forcing his pain into a folder marked "To Deal with Later", He climbs to his feet and,knowing he's facing the forces of heaven, for the first time in a long time, he allows his demon side to take the wheel and steer...
Surrounded and outgunned; His non-human eye glows red, Long, curving and viciously pointed horns extend from his forehead, "Give....Her....Back...." He snarls, hellfire flicking from his mouth "NOW!"
From within the light, the booming voice laughs the laugh of a parent chiding a disobedient child who is being unintentionally amusing, "tut tut....manners, young man....you're not half the demon your mother was, you know..No, you're young...weak...stupid..sub-human. In fact...You. Know. NOTHING!"
"Not half the demon my mother was..Heh..y'know that I actually take that as a compliment, don't you...Bill?"
 "Oh Fuck off!"
A white lightening bolt shoots from the light and hits Him Dead between the eyes. He doesn't even see it coming... He falls back to the floor and doesn't move.
"Oh...you forgot this...." says the voice, throwing something onto the fallen body, "Archangels. Assemble...Get your feathered arses Back to up the Host now"
The light recedes,taking Her..naked, sobbing and bound with it...

One day ago....
He opens his eyes..."what the fuck was I drinking last night?" he groans..
Slowly, he lets yesterdays events seep in "aaawww shit" he sighs, "He found us"
He feels a weight upon his chest and reaches for it, puzzled. He feels a damp, cold furry lump, realising the horror of this final insult, His eyes squeeze shut.
He forces himself to open them
He forces himself to look.
At the damp, cold, furry disembodied head of Stinks; the Small Stuffed Bear that had been his companion since he was a babe in arms.
His friend.

Slowly, He climbs to his feet and starts to find his clothes. He dresses slowly, letting his mongrel human/demon hybrid body savour the strange feeling of the hellfire sealing his many wounds closed. He finds his weapons...and, prehaps more importantly, his cigarettes and ipod.
Before he leaves the ruined house, he carves the following into the wall with a finger.

"Barbas - Fucker with the beard took something of mine.Gone to get her back -Phenex.. ps..Great fuckin' Party!"

He zipped up his jacket and, tucking his bears head into his pocket, went in search of his bike. Muttering expletives as he went.

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Truth is Blind

Right, that's two job applications completed this morning and a third lined up for completion tonight.
Cooking with Gas, me...
I must be due some downtime.
Y'know..Chill out...relax....have a cadburys caramel..or something.
And, since Chadwick has taken the afternoon off and left me to my own devices, it's looking like it's going to be the first Two Post day in quite while.

This could, depending on what spills outta this here noggin of mine, be a good thing.
It could however, again depending on what spills outta this here noggin of mine, get fuckin' ugly.

I'm out of practice at this writing without a safety net lark, see...I have no bloggy posty plan.
No agenda.
I've just found myself with some time on my hands and a head full of nostalgia after moving the boxes around in the old attic quite a bit recently.
And, as usual, when I'm feeling all misty eyed and "oh what great days we had, Pip"..something always comes along to rub salt in the wounds that I've picked and scratched open.

The Salt, in this case, comes in the shape of the First Love of my Band life, Cock Goblins.
Or, to be more precise, Just how flipping weird it was listening to the first new Goblins song in fifteen years on Myspace last night.
Or, to be even MORE precise, just how flipping weird it was listening to the first new Goblins song in fifteen years that I'm not doing vocals on.
Don't get me wrong...
It's a cracking tune.
It's a cracking Cock Goblins tune.
I'm really pleased that Banana Jack and Smelly-Melly have written, recorded and uploaded it.
It's cool that the legacy is being kept alive.
I firmly beleve that a New Goblins Song is something that should be Celebrated like at the end of Jedi...

It's just that....well...I'm not on it.
And..and...
well..it's makes me feel a bit sad.

I ain't gonna lie, when I first listened to it last night, It felt a bit like seeing the girlfriend that you adored out on the town with another fella.
No, it was worse than that...It felt a bit like walking into the house you shared with the girlfriend you adored and HEARING that same girlfriend loudly shouting another guys name while some other fella (with name that's being shouted, hopefully) ruts away between her legs like a balding, sweaty ferret on speed.
in your bed.
Both feelings, I'm sorry to say, I've experienced before.

I then went and listened to it a further three times 'cos it's really bloody good and I felt ok.
and you should too by clicking this here link...

Yet this (and an afternoon of doing bugger all else) has made me wonder...
Could we, Said Goblins Of Cock, be like the Hells Angels or The Masons or Natwest and form Chapters/Branches.
Like, 'Goblins North (BJ and Smellen) and 'Goblins South (Me, 'Tina and hell, if I'm playing fantasy bands, even KT). We could have leather jackets with special patches, secret handshakes..Gnasher Badges..The whole f'kin show.
Then, when the planets were aligned, we could all hook up and, Just like a rock themed Mighty Morhping Power Rangers, form this super-sized Punk-Propelled, Indie rock & Hardcore Angst Spewing Cock Goblin'Bot for a super special kick-arse Gig...
Rockin' the house just like we did in the days off our youth.
A super special gig where the sheer power and force of a Reunited, Fully Armed and Operational Hate-Team could, ironically, bring about world peace and universal harmony.
And might even force that Simon from Primeval and Dougie from Stormwitch to put down the pies and pick up their axes once more.
Or, Jebus knows, sweet talk the Boys from Cage back into their leather strides just in time to release Psycho Johnny in time for Christmas.

No-one sends him christmas cards, y'see..

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The naming of cats is a difficult matter

Well.
This is all a bit weird, isn't it?
"What is, DM? For we, the reader, do not share the skullwindows you call eyes and, therefore, can not see what you see. Neither, 97% of the time, do we have any flipping clue what you're thinking about, you handsome sack of man, you" I hear you ask..

Have no fear, my blog reading, badger baiting bumboxes, For I shall tell you.

I need to do some minor scene setting and a "Previously..On DM's Desk.." kinda catch-up dealio first.
Just so we're all up-to-speed.
There's lovely.

Going back into what now feels like the dawn of friggin' time, DM (and a whole bunch of others) where informed that we were "AT HIGH RISK OF REDUNDANCY!" (dun-dun-daaaaaaaaaan)
Cue much shitting of pants, How-we-gonna-pay-bills, what the flip am I going to do with my life, who'll walk Chad after I'm gone etc etc panic attacks.
The Rumour mill kicked into Overdrive, as is the fashion in these situations, people started treating those painted with the MARK OF DETH like the social lepers we probably are...
and so on and so forth.
With time and distance (and a good CV), the panic calmed and people started (mostly) treating those of us that still bothered to pitch up every day normally again.
With me so far, reader?
You are?
Nice. I like that.

Cut to the end of last week. I got an invite to an "Outcome of Redundancy Process" meeting for Monday morning.
This is, essentially, the meeting where HR finally address the big fat elephant in the room and admit that, yes, You're actually one trillion %, no-bullshit, sorry about your damn luck, being made redundant.
So, like, it's an important I attend, right?
Right.
Especially as in Redundancies past, no-one's ever been seen again after this meeting.
It's like going to the great slaughter house in the sky...but, y'know, office based.
Ever seen Logans Run? Kinda makes me think of that.

They call it "Gardening Leave"
I call it "Get the fuck out of our lovely offices, you dirty shitbird. You're messing up the happiness, man" Leave.

However, I had Monday booked off for Daddy Daycare reasons.
But, being the stand-up type of dude that I am, I begged and pleaded and I sorted a babysitter out so I could pop into the office to attend the meeting that would DECIDE MY FATE.
Then it hit me...like a bag of spanners to the nutsack.
My desk contained approx ten whole years worth of SHIT (not literally).
Photos of the kids, Flyers for gigs, CD's, Action figures, pictures the kids have drawn..and that's before I even opened my drawers (ooer).
And I'm a bit of a hoarder, folks. Oh Yes.
In ten years, I can collect ALOT of shit.

So..Long rambling story shortish..I came into the office on Saturday and I spent a sad couple of hours clearing out my desk.
All that remains of the personality I stamped fimly on it's face is a single flyer for the first ever Rubbersnake gig stuck on the side of my VDU and my "Fat People are Harder to Kidnap" Coffee mug/Pen holder.

And frankly, it makes the whole place even MORE depressing than it was this time last week.
That's what's a bit Weird..

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The Killer Awoke Before Dawn..

He sat on the cliff top, his prized Indian Chief motorcycle was lying carelessly on the grass behind him...watching the ocean do it's thang whilst the sun slowly set beautifully behind the horizon..
He lifted his second bottle of Makers Mark to lips and took a long gulp...
If you were really close, you would notice a single tear sliding down his cheek.
But no-one got close.
Not anymore.
Not after her.
His black little heart that had opened like a flower under the sunshine of her love was now back to it's coal like state.
Burnt. Used. Black.
No-one cared.
No-one knew.

He lit a full fat Malboro and sucked the toxins deep into his puntured lungs...He knew all that was left for him now was what was waiting for him in the world below.
The world that was desperate to reclaim him, to wrap him up in it's warm devut of blackness. To use him as a blunt instrument in it's war against time and the world above.
"well...if I'm gonna go...Go with a smile.." he muttered, and reached into his jacket, dug out his ipod and flicked it into life.
He hit play with his thumb as he plugged the earpuds into his ears; the opening bars of The End by The Doors tinkled into life..
He sang along quietly and slightly out of tune..

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend,
The end

Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again

Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...stranger's hand
In a...desperate land

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die

This. is. the. end...

He stood then, on slightly shaky and drunken legs...The tears obviously flowing now from his one human eye..
And as the sun finally set beneath the horizan, he lifted his gun and pushed the barrel into the soft underside of his jaw; He looked to the heavens and, for a brief second, thought he saw a feathered wing vanishing behind a cloud.
He Sighed, "Fuck'em if they can't take a joke..."
He pulled the trigger.

His body fell...down...down...in the waiting embrace of ocean.
His soul...for what it was worth,
His soul went straight back to the world below.

But this wasn't the end of the matter.
Oh no.
This was just the beginning.
Just of something else.

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Wizard Angst

I had a dream last night.
it was mostly based around a meeting at work where people I've worked with over the years laughed and jeered (in a mostly friendly fashion) about me being made redundant.
Most of which I took in good humour and gave as good as I got.
Some I didn't.
After the jeering was done, we moved onto the next item on the agenda.
The merits of the very excellent Potter Puppet Pals (which me and Eldest Monks are slightly hooked on)

However, the slice of dream pie that I need to focus on was that sitting in the corner of the meeting room, looking as full of life and as stunning as I remember her looking the first time I saw her, was ex-girlfriend, Vicki.
She sat quietly in the corner thruout the whole meeting, no-one else appearing to notice her presence..at first I found myself scared to look at her, ashamed of how I had allowed myself to treat her back in the day.
But, slowly, cautiously, I started to risk a glance in her direction.
And each time I looked, she was looking right back.
Smiling her beautiful smile. The smile that makes you feel like you could fly .
She Glowed like she'd been eating Readi-brek.

The meeting ended and everyone got up to leave. I turned to face her, the urge to drop to my knees and beg her forgiveness for every bad little thing I did to her building, like a wave of panic, inside me..

For Letting her down.
For Breaking her heart.
The Need for her to know that I'm Not That Person.
Not Really.
Not Anymore.
In fact, I never really was.

I opened my mouth to speak..
"it's ok.." she said, smiling that smile..and walked past me, quickly entwining my hand with hers as she passed, "I know..."
And, leaving a light kiss on my cheek, she was gone.

and I was awake.
Feeling, strangely, Better than I have in a while.
Lighter.

Wherever she is, whatever she's doing...I hope that she does know.
I hope that she's happy.
Cheers Vicki. Sorry, I was a Dick.

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Nancy Drew Did a Poo

HOW COCKING COOL IS THIS?!?
If you answered VERY Cocking Cool Indeed, DM. Give yourself a shiiiiny.

And, finally, Rumours of naked photos of Emma "Hermione's badger" Watson are circulating the interweb. I have come across one (not literally) and can confirm that it looks 1000% legit to me...check it out for yourself..

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Off to Vote?

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Go smoke a cock, you cock smocking cock smoker.

I didn't get the job.

Now, I did consider posting that as an update to yesterdays post...
But then I thought, Naaah..I've got too much venom and piss and bile and RAAAAH about WHY I didn't get the job to leave it at that.
It would have been lax of me not to have at least a little bit of a whinge about it.

Flashback to last night....5:57 in the PM, to be precise..I'm driving down the road with two of my children screaming away in the back of the car (I'm pretty sure they were attempting to sing something in the style of a cat being beaten round the testicles with a brick, but that's by the by) when my phone starts ringing the ring of the phone call I've waited all day for.
Not being popular enough to wear one of those nobbing blu-tooth earpiece things that makes you look a bit of a dick, I satisfied myself with a muttered "Oh Cock and Balls" and let it go to voice mail.

Got in five minutes later and listened to a message that said, "Soz DM. They don wanna go further at dis time 'n ting. LOLZ LOLZ. Respec Init" (or something very similar, like wot the yoof speaks like)
So I phoned him back.
"What do you mean, they don't want to go further? With me? are they withdrawing the job? What?"
"You, mate"
"Right. okay...that's cool, to be honest I was kinda beginning to think that I wouldn't have liked the working environment much anyway...however, can I have some feedback on where I went wrong?"
And so began my journey into a world of "Fuccck off..REALLY?" incredulousness, minor outrage and disbelief.

As I can't be arsed to type the whole conversation out, I shall cut to the chase.
First, the positives...

1. I appeared to be confident and "a nice person" - So that's nice.
2. I shone in some areas of the technical questions but didn't in others - Which is fine. It's actually better than fine. I kinda knew that already and it was important to me not to bullshit them about my abilities.
3. The SQL guy thought I was sound and could work with me - He seemed quite a nice chap 'n all as it happens.
4. The HR chick dug my style - See yesterdays post and the line about movie star good looks and being hung like a race horse.

Now..the Negatives..

1. During the middle point of the interview, my body language went "defensive" - ummm..yeah..kinda what happens when two blokes you've never met before have spent the last half hour throwing rock hard questions at you and you're bricking it a bit. or is that just me? But, I can accept that...it's something worth knowing and something to be aware of, right? Right. Useful and constructive criticism. Not criticism for criticism sake...which is something I can't STAND, by the way.
2. When the interview started, after we'd introduced ourselves, I used an opening gambit along lines of "please be gentle, I've not had an interview in a million years" and we all laughed like at the end of a Thundercats or He-man episode. This, however, was taken as a "sign of weakness" by the guy who'd have been my manager - From what I can gather, he made his mind up at that point that I wasn't getting the job.
3. Later in the interview, it came up in the conversation that I was being made redundant - The same guy, apparently, doesn't like employing people who have been made redundant. Considers them "damaged goods" apparently. No, I am not making this up.

And that's it.
So..to review. I am not getting the job because:
1: For reasons outside of my control and along with 599 others in my company, I'm being made redundant
2: I opened with a jokey line to break the ice and get the party started.

My thoughts on this..it's simple, really.
Fuck 'em
Fuck 'em in their stupid arses.
I'm glad I didn't get it 'cos I've worked with narrow minded, opinionated cock-knockers like that before and I never, ever want to have to do so again.
Especially narrow minded, opinionated cock-knockers called DALE.
Which is a stupid name for a stupid person.
Dale from Chip 'n Dale: rescue rangers...Total Tool
Him from our Facilities Dept...an utter, utter numpty.
Dale Winton...you know when you've been tangoed (ooer)
Alan-a-Dale..couldn't play a decent lute solo for shit.
and so on.

Back to the drawing board, readers.

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