Drink Lenin's piss
4th February 2006
 
Referral statz have become a source of daily reading for myself, providing an insight into the sort of questions that plague the souls of mankind. I think it's really great how some people do not grasp the mechanics of a search engine, believing Jeeves to be a conscious being.
 
In other news, The Internet's Pointz has been calling for "Archibald Moncrieffe", star of dire early editions of PJ that I'm pretty fucking ashamed of, to make some sort of comeback. Unfortunately, such a thing is not possible as Archie passed away in a violent attack shortly after the site was launched.
 
And even though it was implied, the image I just linked to was not of Pointz, but of TV's Onslow. Although seriously, Onslow called me up the other day and said that Pointz's vests were really grubby, even by his standards.
 
Mr Jerky AKA Taco Nazi
 
 
Wednesday 18th January 2006:
I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that I got a copy of my P60. Surprisingly, HR didn't shit me about with any eye-rolling or being arsey just because I interrupted their inane chatter and caused them to do some actual fucking work. Turns out I didn't get it sooner because they'd sent it to my old flat after I'd moved out, even though they had my new address and were legally supposed to send it in April or something. Ho-hum! And I got my new (compatible) graphics card, which was nice.
 
Saturday 22nd January 2006:
Sat up until the wee hours of the morning grinding my orc up to level 50, which is an achievement as far as I'm concerned. Especially considering that I play on one of those wacky PvP servers where you can barely move an inch without getting ganked and corpse-camped by Ally dipshits ten levels higher than yourself. Damn them all! Also today, I rearranged the furniture in my room to make better use of space, and to further confuse myself as to where the fuck I am first thing in the morning.
 
Tuesday 24th January 2006:
People at work are desperate for excuses to mock my existence. Today, I was walking around a desk when I accidentally kicked a small, empty cardboard box that was on the floor. Even though the box bounced off my foot and didn't actually cause me to stumble, some dumb bitch across the room yelled "Enjoy your TRIP, [Jerky]? BAUGHGH-HAH-HAH-HAH!", prompting other retards to laugh like it was the funniest thing in Europe. I fucking dread the day that, God forbid, they discover the old paint cans I have in the garage. They'll probably piss themselves and call me "Old Painty Can Ned" for the rest of my life. The best course of action I can think of is to rape someone. Then the next time I walk into a box, it won't be such a big deal.
 
Thursday 26th January 2006:
Pointz was telling me about a guitarist in his band whose family changed their Russian surname to avoid grief during the Cold War. Now that it has only just ended, they've changed it back. Pointz assured me that if he starts wearing red, there will be trouble. If he thinks he can have a hammer and sickle quilt cover on the tour bus, he is mistaken. A crack about "improper gander" degraded the message exchange into a series of bird puns. This lead me to suspect FOWL-play from that "Noddy" character, who probably had some unseen influence.
 
Friday 27th January 2006:
Today was the final deadline for those made redundant back in September to get the fuck out. This meant a whole day of people whining on about "keeping in touch" and hugging each other like a bunch of spastics. Though excellently, the swarthy ethnic-type who likes to hassle me with his stupid shit is one of these people. I considered catching the little bastard alone in the gents to give him a farewell dig in the stomach, but the opportunity never arose. There goes my new year's resolution!
 
Tuesday 31st January 2006:
My extended desk is gone again because they've put a temp on it. And because the temp is female, one of my co-workers (19/10/05) went through the Introductory Routine, where he explains that he is "well dodgy" and grew up in "da ghetto" (Broadfield). His mark is soon reduced to a shameless, drooling sycophant. It's like he has a hypnotic charm that I am immune to, because all I hear is Ali G talking a bunch of schoolyard-esque bullshit. I suspect that everyone knows he's a liar, but in the absence of a truly-great leader, they have raised him up as their convenient hero. A fictional "champion" who will always be there, taping-up boxes for twelve grand a year.
 
Wednesday 1st February 2006:
The Internet's Mr Beardo has gone to Sweden for a week. The reason I mention this is because I want an excuse to show the half-beard picture. Though in my opinion, it was a half-beard before he shaved, so technically it's now a quarter-beard. And to be fair, Beardo looks pretty fucking smug all the time. It seemed obvious to me that he's building a giant ladder out there, so I sent him a message asking how it was going. He said it was going "alright" and he was working on it "one step at a time".
 
Good day to you.

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© 2006 MR. JERKY