Saturday, July 31, 2004
And just in case you're still wavering, here is a disgustingly cute image of four puppies. And I'll link to images like that again and again if I don't get work soon!
*Including robbery, extortion, encouraging alcoholism and hideous fashion crimes.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
"We are already committed to abolishing the Higher Education Contribution Scheme as an important measure to boost education and training, and to better funding for TAFE. We also propose:
- A standard 35 hour working week and capping overtime, by offering incentives to employers.
- A government employment guarantee for all long-term unemployed adults and unemployed youth.
- Financial assistance for small business development, including home-based business, for example through business incubators.
"These policies can be funded through reversing the Howard government's corporate tax rate cut, a measure that will generate around $3.94 billion this financial year."
Michael Organ has identified green collar jobs as one of his strategies to generate new employment opportunities in Cunningham.
"Green collar jobs, based on servicing the environment, are one of the keys to sustainable tourism as an employment generator", Mr. Organ said.
Now I could offer respectable analysis of their economic policies, but hey! let's just pornolize it instead:
"We are already committed to fingerfucking the jerking Higher "Dildo" Education Contribution "Rugmuncher" Scheme as an important measure to boost education and fisting, and to better barfing for TAFE. We also propose:
A standard 35 hour working week and capping overtime, by screwing fistfucks to dripps.
A government employment guarantee for all long-term squirted balls and unemployed youth.
Financial assistance for small jerks development, dripping home-based felchs, for example through business incubators.
"These motherfucks can be pecked through cuntlicking the Howard government's corporate tax rate cut, a measure that will generate around $3.94 billion this financial year."
Michael "The-Champ" Organ has fistfucked green collar jobs as one of his strategies to generate new employment opportunities in Cunningham.
It's a vast improvement on their actual policy, that's all I can say.
*Make that one and a half. More details later.
The game can be very emotionally involving. I've been known to rant and rave when losing; just last week, I was beaten - twice - by a player who I thought was clearly worse than me. I was angry, and after the game said to him 'I'm sure I'm a better player than you!'. Arrogant? Maybe. But he agreed with me, simply offering an explanation for my losses - 'you got cocky'. Once a friend threw a chess piece at my head when losing; and it's possible that the game may have contributed to the descent of such greats as Morphy, Steinitz, and Fischer into howling lunacy.
I play it every chance I get. Mostly on Mondays and Sundays with other members of the chess club, but also on Yahoo games and with anybody I meet who happens to be vaguely interested in the game. It's a highly addictive drug, and I'm a hopeless addict for it. And like an addict, I'm constantly seeking out new thrills and new members of the chess playing community.
And for some reason, bloggers play chess a lot. Tex, Scott - I'm always up for a yahoo game if you're willing.
But I've just discovered that Paul Kidd, the bugger who runs this disreputable blog, plays chess.
Having achieved legitimacy by being challenged to a game of chess by my father, I then set out to beat him... I tried the Queen's Gambit accepted, the Queen's Gambit declined, and even the Queen's Gambit politely ignored, but to no avail. My Ruy Lopez was no more effective than my Four Knights - the bastard beat me again and again.
Damn it Paul, you lived in Newcastle*, you played chess, and you didn't tell me? My King's Gambit would beat yours anyday!
*He moved to Melbourne just when I took up blogging again. Damn!
Monday, July 26, 2004
You may reach us via our landline on: 1.4142135623.........., where it is more or less likely that our operator may reply if he or she feels like it.
Thank you for forwarding your Resume details to us.
We will be interviewing for this position on Friday 16th July and Monday 19th July. Interview times will commence at 10 a.m. at intervals. If you wish to present yourself for an interview would you please phone A. G. any day except Wednesday and advise what time is most suitable for you.
Looking forward to meeting you.
Thankyou for your kind letter! I am certainly looking forward - er, backward - to meeting you on the previous Monday! And it's certainly a good thing you rang me after my not receiving this mail, otherwise Australia Post might have completely stuffed up my chances of succeeding in the interview!
Sunday, July 25, 2004
This firm has a job
For a suitable worker
Fools need not apply.
Write an ad one letter at a time for as many Saturdays as it takes. The applicant who sticks around long enough gets the job.
Sit 10,000 monkeys in front of a keyboard and get them to write the ad. Not only will they do a better job than most job-ad writers, but they'll work for peanuts. Literally.
- Extortion. "If you do not apply for this job, I KILL YOU!"
- Picking up from the previous post, why not try writing the job whilst wearing a moustache? It may not make any difference to the quality of the ad, but you will be doing your bit to combat the saddening decline in the popularity of this once noble item of facial apparel.
- Take a tip from the conceptual artists, and make your ad using exciting substances like elephant dung or urine. Old fogeys will inevitably write into the paper about your ad to complain and young farts will write in to defend you; your ad will thus get much more publicity than it would otherwise have had.
- Alternatively, don't bother writing the ad, hire me to do it.
I was at a job interview on Friday. In itself, this has very little to do with moustaches, but that cannot be helped. This company was looking for a part-time report writer to work at their Belmont business to prepare reports for various insurance companies. During the course of the interview, I bought out a number of the articles I had written, one of which was a short piece written for Fighter Force paper, the monthly publication for RAAF Williamtown. This short piece happened to be about the predominant fashion amongst middle-aged males on the base for moustaches. For some reason, you see, moustaches are quite popular amongst members of the Australian Air Force, and I wanted to find out why. I spoke to the hairdresser, and was also directed to Warrant Officer D.T., the officer in charge of style and decor on base. Making sure that all the members of the RAAF are chic and sleek is undoubtedly an Important job, and when I got through to D.T. on the phone, he undoubtedly sounded like an Important person. However, when I asked him about the fondness for moustaches amongst middle-aged to older RAAF officers, he clammed up. "I don't see what the point of this is," he said. I explained that there wasn't really a point, I was just interested in the moustache sub-culture on base, and I wanted to do a simple 100-200 word article about it. After some cajoling, he reeled off some standard details about standards of dress, hair-cut, etc, that the officers were expected to conform to. Neither D.T. nor the hairdresser were able to answer my question, but I was able to get an article out of them, at least.
It only occurred to me during my job interview yesterday that perhaps the reason D.T. was so touchy about the subject of facial-fur was because he himself wore a moustache. When I spoke to him over the phone, I had formed an image of him, and that image in my mind was of a clean-shaven, middle-aged individual. Perhaps I was wrong there: but could the wearing of a pair of handlebars have such an influence on what he said?
One of my favourite authors, Brian Aldiss, released a book last year titled The Cretan Teat. It was a clumsy attempt at combining the genres of biography, literature criticism, and contemporary novel. Very dissapointing - doubly so, because, just prior to reading that, he had released the brilliant Superstate, which certainly counted among his best work. But the book did possess at least one memorable moment, a page of original literary criticism, in which the author contemplates Virginia Woolf's criticism, and comes to the conclusion that though it can be very rewarding, it contains very little by way of practical advice. She does not say, for instance, 'how to read while wearing a false moustache'. It shortly becomes clear that the author - forced by circumstances in the preceding pages to adopt a disguise - is currently buying some Asian pornography while wearing a false moustache.
It's certainly a valuable insight.
Sadly, moustaches seem to have gone out of fashion amongst the general community. I currently do not have a moustache. Once I wore a beard, though that was not because of a desire to make a fashion statement as because of general laziness and indolence.
If you wish to combat the saddening decline in facial fur and moustaches, then you could do worse than paying this website a visit and visiting some of the links.
In conclusion, I think somebody should give me a job straight away.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
"What's this?" he demanded, slamming the paper down on the desk.
"Er, it looks like a job-ad to me," said the Chief Sluggard, looking at it. It did indeed look like a job-ad:
The Department of Sloth, reporting to the Association of Lazy People, will shortly be requiring the services of an IDLER in our offices.
Duties will include:
- General acts of layaboutness
- Doing abso-bloody-lutely nothing.
This position would be ideal for dole bludgers who have had no practical experience at working in the office environment, and it has a generous pay package.
John Smith, Chief Sluggard, reporting to the Apathy Committee, has details about the position. Don't bother applying. The job will go to the best person to not apply.
"I know, but what the hell's it doing there?" demanded Smith.
"Not very much," conceded the Chief Sluggard, grinning sheepishly.
"Not very much? NOT VERY MUCH? It's doing much-to-much, if you ask me!" shouted Smith. "Mr. Sluggard, may I remind you that we are both paid by the Department of Sloth, and that this ad represents a shocking rise in levels of productivity! Not only have you made work for yourself, but you threaten to make work for somebody else, as well! This is a shocking breach of the ethics of our institution!"
"Well, no offense, Smith, but I couldn't help myself!" said the Chief Sluggard defensively.
"And why not?" growled Smith, crossing his arms angrily.
"Well.. you see ... sitting around here, doing nothing all day long ... it gets kind of ... boring!"
"That's no excuse!"
"Well, I know that I'm not really supposed to do anything, but this just kind of ... happened..."
Smith glowered at the Chief Sluggard for a second, and then said, "Mr. Sluggard, do you realise what this means?"
"What?" frowned the Chief Sluggard.
"Well, here at the Department of Sloth, we have developed a very large, complicated way of not doing things, of having tasks unachieved and of having jobs uncompleted. We have developed a bureaucracy which is admired the world over, and I'm proud to say that our pay-to-productivity ratio is the highest in the entire world! We are all paid ridiculously large amounts of money for doing As Little As Possible, and I'd like to keep it that way. But by employing this person, you risk everything! Why, it could create dangerous levels of productivity in our offices never seen before!"
"Ah!" said the Sluggard then, winking at Smith. "I see the difficulty you're having. But don't worry! I have a clever plan to head off any further activity in our organisation before it begins!"
"And what is that?"
"Well, it's true, we've already not received thousands of non-applications from plenty of unworthy non-workers. But ..."
"Well, I couldn't be bothered reading any of them, anyway. It is my job, after all!"
Smith sat there at the desk with a stunned look on his face. If you had been standing in the middle of the Sahara desert and somebody had come up and hit you across the jowls with a wet-herring I imagine you might have had a similar look on your face. Eventually Smith composed himself, assumed his customary frown, and said,
"Er... that's brilliant, John!"
"I know!" smiled the Chief Sluggard.
"That's the most effective way of not achieving anything that I've ever heard! You'll raise the standards of unproductivity around here no end!"
"Thank you!" he grinned.
"Keep up the non-work!" said Smith.
And with that, he stormed out of the office again, pausing only to do nothing for an hour or so, just to maintain the standards of idleness and shriftlessness around here, before slamming the door behind him with the force of an athletic amoeba.
John Smith, in the meanwhile, folded his hands upon the desk before him and fixed his eye upon the wall for a day. It was difficult, this doing nothing, but somebody didn't have to do it, and that somebody might as well not be him.
UPDATE - D'oh! Stupid me, forgot to link to Red of Redsaid, another of my patrons!
Friday, July 23, 2004
I was in a pub one night when two of my best friends gave me the shock of my life. Now that the war is ‘over’, they said the troops should stay there and clean up. Now, these people are pretty left wing. One of them has even been arrested at a forest blockade. I couldn’t believe it. What the hell was going on?
Heaven forbid that a leftist should hold a sensible position! I mean, keep the troops in Iraq to help maintain order and aid the reconstruction effort? That sounds terrifyingly reasonable!
More recently, I had a newer, and from what I’ve seen very keen and fantastic activist ask me how you can find out about what’s going on in Iraq but not get involved in the campaign because they weren’t sure if the troops should leave. So eventually, upon re-entering soberland, I realised that this must be what a lot of people are thinking. Things may have changed a bit with the recent revelations regarding torture, but I’m not sure... Personally, I think it’s pretty telling of where the media’s interest lies when they are so willing to show those photos but give so little effort reporting about those who have died, the privatisation of the healthcare service in Iraq (it used to be public),
One of the most despotic dictators of modern times deposed, one of the most ruthless regimes of the twentieth century consigned to the rubbish bins of history, and here is Vanessa worrying about the privatisation of Iraqi healthcare. Never mind the fact that one of Saddam's means of keeping control over his country was probably through making such vital resources as health and education public - privatisation is always bad!
What most people probably don’t know is that the Shiites and Sunnis actually have a long history of fighting against occupying forces, so the argument that the country will fall apart if the troops leave is actually false.
How does the second half of that sentence follow on from the first?
If you’re interested in reading more about that, check out the work of Tariq Ali. Anyway, it’s clear that they’re not fighting each other – they’re fighting us.
Yes. By chopping off the heads of (civilian) westerners and by bombing (civilian) Iraqis. Here I was thinking that they were remnants of the Baath party, desperate to maintain their grip on power, but what would I know? I'm just a nasty evil wicked hegemonic western oppressor type person.
And you know, I really hope they win.
It would mean a lot to all of us. That we can’t keep living the way we are and killing each other to source our gratuitous lifestyles. That we can’t impose particular economic systems on other countries through violence
Obviously, though, it's alright for those resisting us nasty westerners to use violence, chop off heads, etc, etc.
That we need to start thinking in different ways. We need to have more respect for our lives, others lives and the life of our planet. And we need to work together to find the solutions to the problems facing us – not in blocks that allow this process to continue.
If there is a coherent, rational leftist perspective on Iraq, this is not it. Perhaps this man could offer Vanessa some help...
UPDATE: That man is, of course, Christopher Hitchens, a Trotskyite who supported the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Alternatively, if you want a reasonable right-wing perspective on the war, you could do worse than pay a visit to his brother - a conservative who opposed the war.
Having carried out my threat to engage in the occasional rabid right-wing ratbag rant, this blog will now return to its regularly scheduled nonsense.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Front view: I demonstrate my awesome writing skills.
Back view. Here you see me in my typical typing pose. I have had my bones surgically altered so as to achieve maximum efficiency and accuracy at the keyboard.
Thanks to Fiona, Michelle, and all the fine Palais staff for help with the screen printing; and thanks to Brendan for taking the photos!
This company requires
A person proficient
In H - T - M - L
They must be efficient
At typing and phones... (etc, etc).
Or how about prizes? Offer a free squishy to every tenth reader. Use your imagination, people!
Readers! Check out my NEW POLL at the top right hand corner of the screen. I want you to help employers make their ads more readable and exciting. Vote in the poll, and leave your fantastically imaginative and fantabulously creative suggestions in the comments box below!
PS - As with my other polls, you can make a vote again after ONE DAY. I want none of these fascist restrictions on multiple votes in my blog! Vote and vote and vote again! It's your chance to be heard, people!
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
The Five Successfull Steps to Finding a Productive Office Employee
1. Mail me and say, "You've got the job".
2. Sit me in front of a computer and watch me type.
3. Marvel at the ease and efficiency with which I'll adapt myself to the office environment.
4. When the end of the week comes around, pay me for my services.
5. When the next week starts, sit me in front of a computer and ... you get the idea.
See, it's astoundingly easy, isn't it?
To all the long-time readers of this short-lived part-time blog: forward this post on to anyone and everyone!
Accounts Receivables Clerk
BUsiness Administration Trainee
sales assistant (junior)
Thank you for your interest in the position for Medical Receptionist as advertised on 5 June 2004.
I would like to advise that this position has been filled.
Dear Ms. K.,
Re: your rejection letter.
Why is it that you, and every other potential employer out there, are unable to use plain language? 'I would like to advise you that this position has been filled'? Please.Next time, try this:
Dear Mr. Train, thanks for applying for the job. You didn't get it. Sorry. K.
You'd be surprised how much Humans appreciate honesty.
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Oh, and don't forget to leave comments!
Characters: Dr. Blug, Dr. Blog (Professionals – white coats, glasses, etc), Mr. Williams (Student), Mr. Zog (Zombie)
Scene: Office – Dr. Blug and Dr. Blog sit behind desk, Mr. Williams and Mr. Zog sit in front of it.
Dr. Blug: Welcome, gentlemen, to the Blug and Blog Neurosurgery. I’m Dr. Blug, and this is my colleague, Dr. Blog (nods). We’ve been looking to extend the practice for quite some time now, and we’ve been looking for a promising young neurosurgeon to join our business. We’ve had a wide range of applications, and we’ve finally narrowed it down to two candidates – you, Mr. Williams…
Mr. Williams: I’m pleased to be here.
Dr. Blug: … and Mr. Zog here…
Mr. Zog: Brains … BRAINS…
Dr. Blug: Yes. Well, we’re pleased to meet both of you, and can I say, we’re very impressed with both of your applications. Now, would you like to tell me a little about yourself? Mr. Williams?
Mr. Williams: Yes, thankyou. I studied for a PhD in neurosurgery at Oxford University, and for 3 years worked at the International Institute for Neuro-disorders in Switzerland, during which I was able to perform extensive research into the Zugman-Hibbert hypothesis regarding the synaptial-logical functions of the upper Cerebral cortex.
Dr. Blog: Hmmm. That certainly sounds very impressive, Mr. Williams. Mr. Zog – you haven’t spoken very much yet. Perhaps you’d like to tell us a little bit about yourself?
Mr. Zog: …. Brains … brains…!
Dr. Blog: Yes, that’s true, you will be working with those, Mr. Zog… but we’d be interested in hearing about your background. What sort of work have you done in the past?
Mr. Zog: … brains … brains … BRAINS!
Dr. Blug: That’s all very well, Mr. Zog, we know from your resume that you have a neuroscience degree. But we were wondering if you could elaborate a little further?
Dr. Blog: Yes, Mr. Zog – what skills do you have that qualify you for this job, for instance?
Mr. Zog: (looks puzzled, scratches his head) Brains … brains … BRAINS … BRAINS, BRAINS, BRAINS!!!
Dr. Blug: Well, we’re sure you’re very intelligent, Mr. Zog, but that doesn’t help much…
Dr. Blog: Errr… Mr. Williams… I see from your resume that you have been published in many prestigious scientific publications. Would you like to elaborate on that?
Mr. Williams: Yes, certainly. I’ve been fortunate enough to have been published three times in Neuro-surgeon International, twice in Nature magazine, and twice in The Monthly Journal of Brain Research. I don’t mean to blow my own horn, but several of my colleagues consider my research into neuro-synaptial cancer to be some of the most exciting and original works they’ve ever seen – may I refer you to the recent editorial in Nature magazine?
Dr. Blug: Thankyou, Mr. Williams – we have been following all your research with great interest, and we’re very impressed. Now, er, Mr. Zog, I see from your resume … Mr. Zog, what are you doing?
(Mr. Zog has started sniffing around Mr. Williams head, stroking it, etc)
Mr. Zog: Brains … brains brains brains brains brains brains brains brains brains! (He is now drooling with excitement)
Dr. Blug: Mr. Zog, if you could just pay your attention to me for a second … Mr. Zog! Good. Now, I see from your resume that you have been a brain surgeon for many years, and that you specialized in lobotomies… would you care to elaborate on that?
Mr. Zog: … (looks puzzled) eh… uh… brains!!!
Dr. Blog: (Rolls his eyes) That’s about all he says …
Mr. Zog: BRAINS!! BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS!!!
Dr. Blug: Mr. Zog, if you’re unable to give an intelligent answer, then we’ll have no choice but to give the position to Mr. Williams here …
Mr. Zog: BRAINS!! (He is stroking Mr. Williams head again)
Dr. Blog: As a matter of fact… Mr. Zog, I’m beginning to doubt you are even suitable for the job. Your resume is very impressive, but … if I didn’t know better… then I’d say that you’ve had this resume forged!
Mr. Zog: BRAINS!! BRAINS!!
Dr. Blug: Yes, I’m beginning to suspect the same thing… have you got anything to say for yourself, Mr. Zog?
Mr. Zog: Brains brains BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS!!! (leaping on Mr. Williams and dragging him behind the table)
Mr. Blug: Mr. Zog? Are you even listening to me? This is your last chance, Mr. Zog!
| Mr. Zog: (From behind desk) Aaaaargh … gnaaarghhh... mmmm … nnnn … slurp… chew… gnash… brains….. mmmm… gnarrghlle!
||Mr. Williams: EwwwgghhhAAAARRGH! What are you doing, you loathsome… I … no, no, don’t do that, I … NYAAAAAAAAAA!|
(You can see the occasional arm or leg flailing up from behind the desk)
Dr. Blog: (Standing up and going over to where Mr. Zog and Mr. Williams are) Right, I’ve just about enough of this, it’s clear to me that … (looking down) Good LORD, is that a cerebellum? I think it is!
Dr. Blug: And that … it’s … it’s a frontal lobe, a full frontal lobe…
Dr. Blog: And that, what’s that … yes it is, it’s…
Dr. Blug: (Shaking his head) Disgusting!
Dr. Blog: Disgraceful! Mr. Williams, I have to say, I’ve never seen such a shameless display of a persons frontal lobes in all my life! Now I’m sure they’re very impressive, but while you’re in this office, I would have expected you would have had the common courtesy and decency to keep them under wraps!
Dr. Blug: Mr. Williams? Mr. Zog? Are you quite finished… I’m afraid…
(Mr. Zog stumbles up, drool and blood and brains dripping from his mouth, closely followed by Mr. Williams, bloodied and with a vacant, zombified look in his eyes)
Dr. Blug: Good. Now, as I was saying, since you haven’t had the manners to keep your frontal lobes under cover, we’re just going to have to award the job to …
Mr. Williams: Brains… brains!
Mr. Zog: Brains … BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS!
Dr. Blug: To Mr. Zog here!
Dr. Blog: Welcome aboard, Mr Zog!
Mr. Zog and Mr. Williams: Brains brains BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS BRAINS!!! (Leaping on Dr. Blug and Dr. Blog)
Pardon me for telling you this Chris, but Right-wingers such as Evil Pundit and Satan and Tim Blair, Oppressor, could have told you this ages ago. Ming the Merciless could have told you as much fifty years ago.
And as somebody who once voted for the Liberals, I realise that I am an evil and wicked person who wants to eat your babies. Nice and raw, please.
But, apart from stating the bleeding obvious, this 'true' history of the Liberal party is quite entertaining:
The Satanic Liberal Party was conceived and born from the conviction that satanists and the rich, working in collusion together, could achieve a better Australia. The vision and the conviction came from Robert Menzies, a man who by strength of character, intellect and industry secretly forged one cohesive and united party from like minded, but disparate and scattered, psychopathic devil-worshippers and their organizations.
The Satanic Liberal Party brought unparalleled prosperity and security to satanists while in office, and rigorous persecution to unbelievers while in opposition. Menzies' vision was that all satanists, no matter what their political beliefs, were entitled to enjoy the rewards of their rapacious slaughter of all in their path both for themselves and their children; that government existed to help them achieve this, while at the same time caring for those who because of mental infirmity, ego or sadistic nature needed to dominate the wider community, but otherwise intervening as little as possible in their rampage. Menzies was desperately concerned that the necessary restriction of freedoms imposed by government during the war would not extend into peacetime. Only an allout attempt at anti-communist hysteria could provide a continuing source of cover for the harrassment and occasional eating of opponents necessary to a stable government.
God knows what a 'Secret History of the Labor Party' would be like:
Once upon a time, all the nice and happy and generous and virtuous people in Australia got together and decided that it would be really really great if they could make a political party so they could be nice and happy and ... etc, etc to one another all the time. And they called this party the Labor party, and in order to make extra-specially sure that they would be nice as often as possible, they did really nice things, like raise taxes and limit freedom and make sure that nice policies like the White Australia policy were kept in place. In this way, they made sure that the poor people stayed poor and the nice (ie, rich) people stayed rich and were able to be nice and generous to all those poor people as often as possible, and the wogs just stayed away. And everybody lived happily ever after, except for those times when the evil mean and nasty Liberal party was in power and did things like give Aborigines the vote and let the wogs in and generally institute policies that actually let poor people become rich.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Local farmer requires talented workers to carry out the duties of CHICKEN on his property. He is seeking to employ several new chickens due to an upturn in the market recently.
Workers will be paid higher than the Union wages, and the farmer will give special consideration to people from disadvantaged backgrounds.
The worker must be: skilled, with a can-do attitude, an ability to meet challenges, and be an excellent communicator.
Prior experience as a chicken will be highly regarded, as will experience in egg-laying, decapitation, having wads of bread and egg-yolk stuffed up your bum, and being served up as the Sunday roast. However, on-the-job training is available for the right person/s.
Call Old McDonald on 4987 6543.
Harry Hutton, in comments:
"Do you have to stay in Newcastle? Go west, young man. I've heard in California they've got gold nuggets the size of nuggets."
Gempires, comments again:
"Good luck. And if you don't get this one, it's time to move to Sydney."
I'll bear that in mind, guys, but I'm sure there has to be a job for me here in Newcastle. That, and I'm stubborn as a mule about some things.
Duncan Riley of the Blog Herald emailed me with this:
"No offence, but try stacking shelves or manual labour... even try commuting, when I worked in Sydney City in the early 1990’s I remember people travelling from Newcastle and the Central Coast was quite the norm..."
None taken Duncan, I've just been focusing on jobs where my skills will be used, but I'll look into these suggestions.
"... try cold canvassing directly with employers, I got my last job exactly this way, in deed I was offered to jobs at the same time and neither were advertised."
And yes, I've tried this option: so far it hasn't got me anywhere, but will try anything and everything.
Chas from Chasrover offers this useful tip for winning interview technique in my comments thread:
"The trick to job interviews is to assume YOU are doing the interview. Ask the panel about themselves, including personal questions and throw a metaphysical philosophical conundrum in there as well. They will be too busy talking about themselves (and appreciative of the attention) to ask about you. They will fall in love with you as you are a great listener and hire you immediately. They may even let you run the company. Really."
Finally, another comment from Harry Hutton, this time on his website:
"Why don't you make a big flashing hat that says, "I am available for clerical and data-entry jobs."
That is what I would do."
Thanks for the suggestion Harry. Coming soon to a website (called Will Type For Food) near you: a wide range of job-seeker apparel, guaranteed to not only help you in your job search, but make you look sleek and sexy in the process!
Firstly, it was one of those group-interview thingies, you know, employer asks along a whole bunch of people and sits them down in a board-room while they glower competitively at one another. Nothing very distinctive about any of them - apart from the fact that they were middle-aged and women and I'm not either.
Secondly, this was an interview where the employer didn't ask any questions. He made us ask a couple of questions - and got us to write down a few things about ourselves on a sheet of paper - but the usual 'tell me about yourself why do you think you are the best man for the job what sort of experience do you have' type of questions were not in evidence.
And apparently he plans two more interviews before some sucker actually gets the job. He'll contact me at a time of his choosing.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Due to the huge and unprecedented response to my previous poll - and also in an attempt to use my legions of fans to help get me work - here is another poll, on your right. The job it is referring to is the one for which I will be attending an interview tomorrow. Exercise your democratic freedoms, vote early, and vote often!
*Uh, that was me, actually.
**Well, one of those is me. I voted again.
Monday, July 12, 2004
Hmm, okay, I have an interview on Wednesday, let's give it a go.
Gracias por solicitar la posición del profesor de la literatura española. ¿Quizás usted puede comenzar diciéndonos porqué you're la persona adecuada para esta posición?
Yes thanks, I didn't have any trouble getting here. And can I say, what a nice office this is?
¿Apesadumbrado, cuál era ése?
Oh yes, I think I'm very suitable for this position. As you can see from my resume, I have a wide variety of talents. I'm very skilled at computers, and I've had lots of practical experience as a volunteer at local arts and publication organisations.
Er, pienso que usted puede ser que esté bajo cierta clase de misapprehension... si usted desea solicitar esta posición, entonces usted va a tener que hablar español. Clase de It's de un requisito básico del trabajo.
That's right, and I've got exceptional communication skills.
¿Le tienen cierta clase de broma en nosotros?
Oh, I'm a very friendly person, and I'm sure I'd fit right into the environment here. Hey, we're getting along already.
¡Maldígale, perro australiano! ¡Si usted piensa usted puede apenas caminar adentro aquí y decir con desprecio en nuestra cultura y manera de la vida, usted hace que otro piense venir! ¡Le funcionaremos a través con los estoques! ¡Su sangre funcionará en torrentes!
Ha ha ha, good one. Anyway, I'm sure I'm the right person for the job, with all the right qualifications. Er, by the way, what was the position again?
Thanks to Babelfish for the translations!
So I'm walking down Beaumont Street, Newcastle, when I pass by an Animal Rights storefront at the upper end. There's a sign in the door that catches my eye:
Say NO to Animals in Pet Shops!
This is funny.
This is very funny.
The thought of dour-faced animal-liberationists in slime-green uniforms going about the pet stores, and saying "NO" to quivering little puppies in clear, authoritative voices is almost too funny for words. It makes you wonder if the activists get into arguments with the puppies - 'What part of NO don't you understand? Aren't you listening to me?' - to which, I suppose, the pup in question might reply, 'Um, I'm probably not responding because I have no linguistic, syntactical, grammatical, or verbal ability whatsoever. Otherwise I agree with your campaign wholeheartedly.'
Which I suppose is what is so funny about the whole thing. Saying NO to puppies is funny because they have no idea what you are saying. I did it plenty of times with my own dog at home, a fox-terrier called Bella. I would take her aside at least once a day, and say 'NO' to her in firm, stentorian tones and watch her quail and quake. It never failed to get a laugh. Sometimes, for variety, I might even take her aside and say 'YES' in the same firm, stentorian tones and watch her quail and quake. As a matter of fact, it didn't take much to put the tremors into her dear, timid little heart - all you had to do was say a word, any word, at random - for instance, 'ASTIGMATISM' - in firm, stentorian tones, and watch her shiver and run around in confusion. Next time I get a dog, I plan to go one better, and teach her or him a set of commands which only I can understand - for instance, instead of saying 'sit', 'roll over', 'come', 'fetch', I might substitute it with an equally valid set of terms, such as 'elephant!', 'cream pies!', 'quiches', 'quentin!' (I know, I know, small things, small minds...)
Incidentally, the pamphlet got even funnier:
Because this lucrative pet shop market exists in Australia, backstreet breeders and "puppy farms" who supply pet shops continue to churn out more and more poor puppies and kittens.
Oh, those dark Satanic mills in which those evil Capitalist Oppressors spawn puppies to overrun the earth!
In short, the Animal Rights Campaign to Say NO to Animals in Pet Shops is a hoot and I wholeheartedly endorse it. Go into a pet shop today and respond to the puppies in the negative! O, wot fun! O, the hilarity!
I'd like to apply for the position of
If you take a look at my attached resume, you'll see:
- I have excellent office skills
(*Slightly paranoid note to any employers who may be reading this: this is an exaggeration! Don't take this too seriously! I'm more than willing to do even the simplest of jobs - ie, data entry, I'm just tired of making a simple data entry task seem like a 'challenge' or an 'exciting prospect' when it is anything but.)
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Anyway, The Grinder Household can now add Tim T to the feel-good-because-we-sponsor-him shelf next Mrs G’s picture of Ali Mohammad, the World Vision kid that appears on my visa statement each month.
Link me liberally, and feel free to bask in the warm glow of sanctimony that will inevitably come!
Saturday, July 10, 2004
A professional service firm located in Cooks Hill requires a motivated, outgoing person with reception experience for a varied position full of potential for growth.
(An aside: don't you just love those cliches, 'motivated', 'varied position', 'full of potential for growth'?)
- Outstanding customer service skills
- Thorough knowledge of MS Office
- Knowledge of medical terminology an advantage
Er yes, I suppose it would be an advantage to possess the essential criteria.
... Please address the essential criteria in the covering letter. Only genuine applicants need apply.
Exqueeze me? Isn't everyone that applies a 'genuine applicant'? What is a 'genuine applicant' if not somebody that goes to the trouble of typing out and mailing off an application letter, and who decides this?
Hmmm, moving right along:
CLERICAL CUSTOMER SERVICE OFFICER
The Kooragang based Australian Company requires a full time team member.
Wow, the Australian Company, that narrows it down to about a thousand separate businesses living and working in Australia. What is this 'Australian Company'? A quick google search doesn't help.
And, finally, my favourite for this week:
Now in my dictionary, Cad="blackguard, scoundrel, rotter, bounder". By the sound of this ad, it must be some sort of machinery, but who cares? Ah, double-entendres...
Instead of sticking with the old blog template, which looked rather like the result of a mating between the lowest pond-scum and a Commodore Sixty-Four, I've decided to throw it out and try something new. Say hello to this Template; I think it looks better and will stay around for awhile.
If you look to your left, you'll also notice that I have a poll up. Yay! Polls are fun and will hopefully increase traffic.
</Boring Administrative Announcement>
Friday, July 09, 2004
Nevertheless, I read further and it got WORSE - he's looking for a job.
Oh. Dear. God.
I SO don't care about your miserable life. Boo-freakin'-hoo.
But a little further down, he won my heart:
But so far, I haven't found [a job]. So I've decided to use the power of blog to combat my perpetual state of unjoblessness. Each week, I'll put up a couple of posts about my trials and tribulations looking for work. Since I am a welfare recipient and beneficiary of the hard-earned taxes, due attention will be paid to my profligacy with your money. Every now and then, I'll post up some examples of my idleness and shriftlessness.
Like seeing a bum on a streetcorner with a sign that says "I won't lie. I need money for booze", I am impressed by this man's self-effacing honesty.
I love you too Harvey. And if you get me a job, I'll not only get you six of these, but I promise to pay you back all of those taxes that go into my $480 pension every fortnight. Every last microcent.
But no kiss for you.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
My favourite so far are the chaps at Westpac Online Banking:
Dear valued Westpac Customer!
Due to the increased fraudulent activity within
our site we are undertaking a review
of our member accounts. You are requested to
visit our site by following the link given below.
This is required for us to continue to offer you a
safe and risk free environment to send and receive
money online. Be sure to enter both Customer Account No &
Password otherwise your account will not be verified
and your access to the account will be blocked.
Copyright 2004 - Westpac Banking Corporation ABN 33 007 457 141
Message ID: 4849788628
Hey, it's a valid career option. As a student at Uni I briefly considered a life of high crime. Sadly, though, such a life is not for me: I remain disgustingly ethical.
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Okay, okay. I suppose in order to get this networking thing happening for me, I'm going to have to offer inducements of some sort. I know, let's try - a competition!
THE COMPETITION TO GET TIM A JOB
Take part in this competition, and you could be in the running for many (well, six) exciting prizes! Have a word to your Newcastle friends, or your Newcastle boss, and tell them I'm in the running for a job. Tell them what a gloriously marvellously talented person that I am. If your tip-off leads to decently paid job for me(1), then YOU WILL WIN NOT ONE, NOT TWO, BUT SIX OF THESE.(2) Which I will easily be able to afford, once I have become part of whatever Hegemonistic Capitalistic Employer decides to take me on.(3)
There. Now if that isn't a good bribe, I don't know what is. You people make me sick.
Terms and Conditions:
(1) If you want to get the prize, you'll have to be able to prove to me that it was your tip-off that led to me getting work. It's not that I don't trust you or anything. Mail me and I'm sure we'll be able to work something out.
(2) I'll get you something else if you don't like that prize.
(3) If you're cute, I might also give you a kiss.
Last week, after I requested a plastic bag at a newsagency, an unshaven customer felt moved to speak. "Save the environment!" he told me eagerly. "You don't need a bag to carry one magazine!" I also don't need a glass to drink wine; I could simply chug it from the bottle. These are the things that separate us from the beasts. I was considering the beast-humankind divide when I realised my adviser was still talking; presumably he expected an answer, so I told him I was a collector of rare petrochemical commodities, picked up my bagged purchase, and left.
I always felt that those Clean Up Australia ads featuring a comely young lady lecturing her customer said less about the 'dangers' of plastic bags and more about the people who were trying to get rid of them. But imagine if you were confronted by somebody like her in real life, asking you:
Do you want a bag for that, something that blocks drains and creeks, injures precious marine life, and stays in our environment for thousands of years?
Would you have the presence of mind to come up with a snappy reply? Neither would I. But, after months of deep and hard thinking, I have come up with the following responses.
Of course, what would I use to suffocate hippies if I didn't have a plastic bag?
Yes thankyou, you sanctimonious git.
Whew. Hard work, that was. Maybe after getting me a job some of my readers can mail through some more suggestions...
PS. I realise the hilarity quotient in that post was probably on the negative side of zero. I give you my solemn word that many many more unfunny posts will follow unless somebody gets me a job soon. It's not exactly extortion, but it's not bad...
Monday: Contact employers advertised in the Saturday paper, log on to the net and look for a job.
Tuesday: Log on to the net and look for a job.
Wednesday: Buy Wednesday paper, wasting somebodies hard earned dollar in a vain attempt to get myself a job.
Thursday: Fritter away another five-taxpayer-funded-dollars on a Blue Ribbon bus to Raymond Terrace, where I fulfil my Mutual Obligation obligation at a local computer centre. Oh, and look for a job.
Friday: Having contacted all the employers advertised in the Saturday and Wednesday papers, stare at the wall for an hour. Then log on to the net and look for a job. During the afternoon, go off to a zine meeting.
Saturday: Another three dollars seventy cents goes on a weekend copy of The Australian and the Newcastle Herald. And look for a job.
Sunday: Walk down to Hamilton and play some chess at the Oasis cafe. Oh, and look for a job.
As you can see, it gets a little repetitive and I'd be the first to admit that it's made me a little obsessive. Hmmm, maybe I could sue somebody for repetitive strain disorder...
Monday, July 05, 2004
Two blogs I've just discovered: Paul Kidd, until recently a Newcastle resident. He runs a hugely entertaining website at www.buggery.org. Please consider. (When I first found the website, I clicked on the random entry generator, and pretty soon I found myself reading a post about genital piercing. With pictures.)
Gempires is a new blogger who has had the good sense to be 26 years old and a Virgo. Kudos to you, Miss Gempires - the early spring of 1977 was a great time to be born. Oh, and she also has a weirdly wonderful new blog which you can find here.
Sunday, July 04, 2004
We have a number of temporary data entry opportunities available in the Newcastle area. these positions are within business hours, Monday to Friday. The flexibility to work at short notice and strong administrative skills will be highly regarded.
Gosh, that sounds like a job that I might be able to do in my sleep. Let's apply for it!
Dyslexisic Austarlia is an orsaginitaon givng hope to mny safferererers f Dxslyescia arund the nition. We wE We aer cmpltyoe stuffed by talntd Dsyulexics.
We crrentlyu ruqeire thu services of a Tipist in rou fficeso to epdatu ruo fls nda prforme mail outs, psto litters, ect, ect.
Essential qlutes: Fast tgpiny seepd, uccarucy, ttentiona to detil, goode communication slikks.
Cntact: 1840 4975 dring offocs heures. (iF thn unbmer s wrngo, lkoo us pu in yuro teleFone buk.)
So off to Newcastle I go. I walk. It's a long walk, but the money spent on bus tickets is money I won't be able to spend on books. Get twenty more dollars out of the bank to make sure I'll be able to meet expenses, wait for my brother outside Civic railway station (incidentally, is there any other railway station in the world with a palindromic name?!?) and together we go off to the book sale.
Getting the books is the easy part. I force my way through the crowd, and quickly find a Stephen King book I haven't read, a Plato book which I don't think I've read, a copy of Bridget Jones' diary (saw the film, liked it, haven't read the book yet), and several others, put them in a box and get in the line to get to the counter... which is the tough part.
The line snakes around the room, going up one aisle and out along the walls of the Honeysuckle Markets warehouse. It takes 5 minutes to find my way to force my way to the end of the line through the crowd and another 20 minutes to get to the actual counter. The cost of the books? All up, close to $7.00.
Then off with my brother to go through a couple of other stores. My brother runs to a strict schedule; at twelve o'clock, we havea to have lunch. So in to KFC we go. (My brother only eats at the brand-name places - Subway, KFC, McDonalds. I think it's rather endearingly capitalistic of him.) I get a small meal from the girl at the counter.
The cost: about $6.00.
Shortly afterwards, buy some Vile Socialist Propaganda off some commies standing about in the mall. I disagree vehemently with just about everything they stand for, but I kind of admire their commitment. Plus, I like to scoff at their paper. Get into a pleasant (for me, anyway) argument with the girl at the table about (guess what?) Iraq.
The paper is priced $3.00, or 'by donation if you can't afford it'. Would I like to buy some extremist left-wing filth? Hell, yeah! So I buy the paper for three dollars, even though I really can't afford it. (I hate having to pay less than the normal price for anything - it's a pride thing.)
Then off up the street to Graphic Action, one of the best damn comic stores anywhere. Surprise surprise! It's free comic day, says Callan, who's minding the store for the day. The catch? You have to buy a comic (or magazine, or book) to get one.
Well, I'm tempted - but eventually I admit to Callan that I don't have enough money, even for that.
"You can have one anyway," he says. Maybe he's feeling generous. Or maybe it's because I'm a regular customer (well, compared to some, I'm not a regular customer at all).
Still, I feel guilty, and even though I've already had a drink, I buy one from their fridge.
Add $2.00 to the bill.
Then it's almost time for my brother to leave: he's to catch the bus down to Raymond Terrace at 2.00. We make our way down to the Museum bus station (for some reason, my brother has to catch the bus from there. He's a strange person.)
I almost decide to walk back home, but what the hell. I've been carrying a bag full of books around on my back for hours, and I've got enough money to get me back home. I catch the bus and bugger the price. Which, incidentally, is $2.50. (Could be less if I got a concession ticket, but did I mention how I hate having to pay less than the regular adult fare? In some ways I'm stranger than my brother.)
Whew! What a day! All up:
KFC meal: $6.00
Green Left Weakly: $3.00
Drink from Graphic Action (optional extra with FREE comic!): $2.00
Bus ticket back home: $2.50.
That's a total of $20.50. Wow, that's $20.50 I won't be able to spend on rent or phone or internet or electricity bills. What a wonderful Government-sponsored world we live in.
PS I've left out some contact details and contact details for referees, for privacy reasons. Again, mail me if you have work.
Timothy Huw Train
I have become involved casually in various types of work:
Journalist, interviewer, writer, and researcher for Fighter Force, 1 day per week (Williamtown RAAF base paper), April – August 2003
Volunteer Worker, Port Stephens Telecentre, 2001 – 2004 – 1 day per week (Duties include: Secretarial work, spreadsheet work, customer relations, customer assistance, publicity, preparation of weekly timetables, web-page creation)
Volunteer Worker, Palais Royale Youth Venue, 2001 –2004– 1 day per week (Duties include: Editor, writer, interviewer, reviewer, researcher, publicist and secretary for youth magazine InZine, Secretary for Youth Music Committee Indent)
Volunteer Worker for I.F. Magazine (Independent Filmmaker)1999 – 2000
Writer for the Skeptic
Touch-typing speed: 75 – 85 wpm.
Alpha-numeric entry speed: 7000 kph.
I am familiar with the following programs:
- Microsoft Word (letter writing, publishing, mail-merge, using macros)
- Excel (data entry, basic formulas, charts)
- Powerpoint (creating/editing slide shows)
- Pagemaker, Publisher, and Photoshop (formatting and publishing)
- Front Page and Internet Explorer (web-design, research)
Master of Arts, Music, Sydney University, 1999 – 2000
Bachelor of Arts, Music and English Literature, Sydney University, 1996 – 1998
Higher School Certificate, 1995, 3-Unit Music, 2-Unit General English, 3-Unit Mathematics, 2-Unit Physics, 2-Unit
Eighth Grade Practice of Musicianship, Pass with Credit,
5th Grade Theory of Musicianship Pass with Honours,
Member of C.C.L.A., 1993 – 2004.
Member of Sydney University Film Society, 1997-1999 (Actor, Director, Script Writer)
Member of the Australian Skeptics, 2001-2004, contributor to the Skeptic.
Member of Sydney University Chess Society, 1998-2000, Secretary 1999 – 2000, Editor/ Producer/ Distributor of Chess Newsletter, 1999 - 2000
Contributor to U.R. (Union Recorder), 1999 - 2000
Member of Saint Andrews College Choir, and St. Andrews College Music Soc, 1996-1998. I performed as a choir member and pianist (playing accompaniment and solo) at several concerts and church services during the years 1996-1998.
YOUR CHALLENGE, IF YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT IT, IS THIS: find me a job.
I've been looking for work here in Newcastle for a while now. (I'm not picky: I've narrowed down the field of possible jobs to - office work. Anything from filing and answering phones to publicity, working with databases etc. I don't really care what specific industry it's in, or whether it's part time or full time or casual or temporary or long-term. Anything will do. Really.)
But so far, I haven't found one. So I've decided to use the power of blog to combat the perpetual state of joblessness I find myself in. Each week, I'll put up a couple of posts about my trials and tribulations looking for work. Since I am a welfare recipient and beneficiary of the hard-earned taxes many of you will have paid to the Government, due attention will be paid to my profligacy with your money. Every now and then, I'll post up some examples of my idleness and shriftlessness. Along with that will come the usual right-wing ratbag rants, pedantic dissections of newspaper stories, and self-indulgent passages about myself. The horror!
There will only be one way to stop me: help me get a job here in or around Newcastle. Perhaps you need a worker yourself, or perhaps you have friends in Newcastle who need a worker. Point them out to my website. They'll be able to sample a copy of my resume, or read some more about me. I know we can do this! By working together, I'm sure we can wean me off Government welfare and stop my horrific waste of taxpayer funds!
PS: Depending upon interest, I may also be welcoming other people onto this blog as contributors. All contributors will have to be interested in stuff, and able to make a post - every millienia or so. Mail me if that sounds like you.
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
- John Bangsund's Threepenny Planet
- Broken Biro
- Poetry 24
- Superlative scribbles
- Kirstyn McD!
- Rorrim a tsomla almost a mirror
- More Sterne
- Cam the man from the Dan.
- Too hot to Raaaaaaandallllllll!
- Erin's Excellently Everlasting Effervescements!
- Slammy Infamy
- Hail Paco!
- Baron Blandwagon, purveyor of cyberbunnies, hawker of Roger Corman, and Misruler of the Multiverse
- The Bolta. Aiyeeeeee!!!!!
- Bad Apple Audrey
- The cartoon church
- Sir Martinkus
- A Zemblanian abroad and at home
- A hodge podge of hotzeplotz
- THE SLAMMA!
- Jottlesby's nottings, or should that be Nottlesby's jottings?
- The Snarking of the Hunt
- Jazzy Hands
- David of Metal City
- David the Barista
- The Blogger on the Cast Iron Balcony
- Be an Opinion Dominion Minion!
- ... and Fel
- His brilliant career - from whale sushi to crumbed prawn
- Jo Blogs
- Yet another Tim
- Was two peas, now three peas
- ... Still Life - now with extra rotating cats!
- An Amazingly Awesome Australian Ampersand!
- Blink and you'll miss 'er
- Red in the land of the tigers!
- Wire of Vibe
- Chase him, ladies, he's in the cavalry!
- The Non-palindromical Editrix in Germanium
- Old Sterne
- The briefs...
- ... and the brieflets
- The Purple Blog
- Blairville, lair of all that is wicked and perfidious
- The enticingly acronymical CSH
- EXTREEEEEEEME WYNTER!
- Mark of California
- Silent Speaking
- Lexicon the Mexican
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