Nikkipedia

According to my chart, you are FAT.

If you’ve never considered visiting Kent, I feel quite sure that I can change your mind with this post. It’s an amazing place, and I’m sure you’ll agree that these local news stories support this completely.

Visit Herne Bay!

Local artist commissions Gary Glitter sticks of rock.

Glam rock. Suck it and see.

The local artist, who lives in Herne Bay, commissioned 1200 sticks of rock, with a picture of Herne Bay on the inside, and Gary Glitter’s name through the middle. The boxes containing the sticks of rock arrived graffitied with ‘wrong’ and ‘sicko’. Early indications would suggest that these weren’t going to be popular.

Sadie Hennessy continued regardless, distributing the sticks of rock to passers by, and, in that well known and revered marketing tactic, left piles of the sticks of rock outside public toilets and encouraged people to take them.

I might be alone in this, but I was brought up not to accept sweets from strangers, and not to eat things off the floor. To me, her choice of distributing the art was the start of a flawed from the start plan.

Sadie commissioned the rock after rumours last year that Gary Glitter was to set up home in the sleepy seaside town that is Herne Bay, which shocked local residents. Fearing that there wasn’t enough local outrage at this news, she decided to further incite and provoke, with the unholy image of Gary Glitter being at the centre of the town of Herne Bay, tainting the picturesque image from the outside, and him being represented a long, hard, tasty sweet, popular with children.

Visit Sittingbourne!

I live in Sittingbourne. It’s a marvellous place. This is a local representative, one of our Carnival Princesses, a local beauty and sweetheart, with an ASBO.

ASBO Princess is no dancing queen.

She’s representing this town, in the bits that she’s not banned from. Really, this needs no further comment, I’ll leave the final words with Fred’s comment on the original article.

Fred wrote: “Fantastic, an asbo princess, but why not just hand the crown to a 15 year old mum of 3 and show everyone what this towns really about”

Class. Really, come visit. It’s this year’s Carnival THIS WEEKEND why not come along to see which criminal is crowned Queen this time? I can’t wait. Just please take me with you when you leave.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a flag-bearing car, must be in want of a larger penis.” (Jane Austin, Pride and Prejudice)

Today I spotted these multi-flagged cock-mobiles.

Left wanker
Total flag count: 4

Right wanker
Total flag count: 4
2 window flags
1 aerial flag
1 side window sun shade

Today’s flag wanker winner!

It is best viewed from behind.

Total flag count: 7
4 window flags
2  side window sun shade flags
1 large flag displayed in the rear windscreen

WHY?!

The Job Centre today was ace, my favourite so far. I caught a glimpse of some of the sort of stuff I’d hoped (and sort of dreaded) seeing when I was there.

Hopefully, you’ll live your life without ever having to visit these god awful places, so you’ll have to make do with the second-hand experience of reading my adventures there.

My previous visits to JC have been really rather uneventful, first time, I was actually in and out of there within the space of 5 minutes. I was impressed.

The second visit, I was slightly late – and fuck do they moan about it, but nonetheless, the transaction was again smooth and speedy, in and out within 10 minutes, with only a brief accosting from security on the way in. I knew where I was going, what I was doing, but apparently THEY *have* to know too. I’m not a hoodie, I don’t wear baseball caps, I was dressed smartly, with shoes on, not the uniform prison-whites that most of them wear, not so much as a cigarette tucked behind my ear, or a packet in my hand. I don’t fit in there, but I’m treated as if I’m one of the scummers regardless.

Today, after the nagging I got for being late, I was there a few minutes early. The security guy today was younger than the Nazi from last time, and gave me a big smile as I pushed the door open, covered head to toe from the freak blizzard that happened the second I got out of my car. I told him I was there to sign, and showed him my Job Club pack, so he knew where I was going (that’s how it works, see, I’m getting it!) He pointed me to where I needed to go, and I thanked him, and headed over to the sofa to wait to sign.

Job Centres have a pitiful amount of seating in the areas where people have to wait to sign. There is a sofa-esque, soft chair by the people you see to sign, it will seat about 4 normal weight people, or 5 undernourished chavs/druggies. There were 2 chavs on the sofa today. They seemed to know each other, they were talking. As they’d parked themselves in an entirely selfish manner, I had no choice but to sit between them, despite their conversation. So I said ‘Hi’ in my cheeriest tone and plonked myself down. They looked baffled.

Flat capped chav, to my right, clearly had a chip on his shoulder. He was angry. He asked hoodie chav (on my left) what the time was. It had just passed 12:20.
“Fuckin’ell mate. I’ve been ‘ere since ten fuckin’ to. They fuckin’ moan when you’re late, but then fuckin’ keep you hanging around when it suits ‘em.”
Hoodie chav mumbled something in agreement. Flat capped chav continued his monologue, repeating the same thing to no-one in particular, complaining what a joke it was. In reply to this, the baseball cap chavs that were standing using the touch screen computer the other side of him joined in to agree what a “loada shit” it was.
“I’m gonna fucking start getting angry, and pointing at people. With my fists.” Flat capped chav said. Quite what that would achieve, I have no idea. He complained again about his wait then shut up.

Another chav, white tracksuit top chav, came over and sat next to flat capped chav.
“Mate, you still ‘ere?”
(I rolled my eyes. Obviously he was still there. Moron.)
“Yeah mate. Been ‘ere since ten to, an I?”
At which point, the security guard came over.
“You can’t sit down yet mate” he said to white tracksuit top chav.
“Why not?”
“Not time for you to sign yet.”
He got up and took 2 steps to his left.
“Alright, I’ll use this fuckin’ job machine” he says, aimlessly prodding at the screen in a ham-fisted manner, without looking at it.
“Jobsworth” said flat capped chav, as the security guard walked off. Classic insult that, coming from someone that’s unemployed. It took a lot for me not to laugh.

It fell silent.

Then my name was called. I stood up. The 5 chavs looked at me simultaneously. I felt sure they were going to murder me.

Less than 5 minutes later, I scurried out of the Job Centre, as quickly as I could. Done, dusted, free. They were all still there, waiting.

*Points* Chav!

“Miss Pywell is a fat chav who definitely does not have whiplash.” I wish I knew James, he sounds like an absolute legend.

I did tweet this one too, so apologies if you saw it there too, but it actually makes me laugh out loud.

Yesterday I went to a ‘back to work’ session at the Job Centre. It was completely dull and tedious, and an hour of my life wasted, that I’ll never get back.

The comment I got from a previously unemployed Twitter friend, @Brykins was ‘Good luck – if it’s the one I went to, it’s twelve people in a room learning that application forms shouldn’t be done in crayon.’

He wasn’t far off the mark.

There were 4 other people in the session. Ginger, Greasy Lady, Know-It-All and Moustache Man that can’t switch on a computer. They were all as equally unamused as I was. Know-It-All spent half of the session arguing with Job Centre Lady. I couldn’t watch, I was busy trying not to laugh.

We had clipboards with forms on them. I stole the copies from the empty seat next to me, in order to share them with you.

The first form had me tearing my hair out, such simple questions that I thought they might have been a trick. I actually struggled with them. The second, I didn’t quite have the heart to fill in saying that the session wasn’t helpful, Job Centre Lady was very nice and if I’d been interested in Health and Safety, childcare or forklift driver training, I’m sure it’d have been very helpful, but in my search for work as a PA, it wasn’t, in the slightest.

At the end of the session, we were given packs to take home – ‘How To Find A Job’, including this little gem:

This is an example of what the Job Centre believe to be an acceptable letter to approach a potential employer. They advise people to send this out to companies. Words absolutely fail me. No wonder there are so many people unemployed, if this is the standard of the advice we’re receiving.

Mind you, the standard of employers and their adverts is only marginally better. These are two adverts I stumbled upon today. I’ve highlighted my favourite bits.

The first. I realise this is just for a role as a receptionist, but the preview of the advert, which started ‘You’re brief’ – lured me in. ‘You’re brief’ – ‘Am I?’.
As for smiling and saying hello to colleagues and guests, surely that’s just common sense and common courtesy, especially if you want to work in hospitality. Could be a problem if you don’t like someone you work with though.
Flare, flair – no, you’re right, I’m nitpicking, they’re mostly the same thing. Just keep the former away from flammable items.
You don’t need a head for figures to handle cash. They hand out money to my fellow Job Centre scummers. I’m sure the Hoodies don’t have a head for figures, but they handle the cash, happily, and as for other payment methods – taking a card payment with a machine and till is hardly rocket science.

The second advert, to me, was a wonder to behold. This advert has been placed by a college. A place of education and scholarship. A pillar of the community. I can only assume that the first highlighted sentence should be read as ‘A-C GCSE English and Math is essential’ but I worry that’s not the case. THIS IS A SCHOOL ADVERTISING THIS. The ad was placed directly by the employer. They should be ashamed. Unless they don’t have an English Teacher among the staff. But surely it should have been proof read by someone.
As for the last highlighted sentence – I’m literally speechless. How is that a question? How can they have *that* poor a grip on the English Language? How am I so good at composing questions, and they be so awful at it?

‘I’m Ron Burgandy?’

When these are the adverts that are placed, the employers, and the level they work at, I am left wondering *why* I’m surprised by what the Job Centre offers us, clearly they’re just matching the market.

It’s been a while since I wrote anything, and on a Friday afternoon at work with no management in, it seems the perfect way to waste this last hour before the weekend dawns on us again.

I will write a proper love letter to Twitter one day soon, but today’s words are going to be about the people that I’ve met from Twitter.

I can say without doubt that everyone I’ve met through Twitter had been amazing, and without fail, it’s felt as if I’ve known them all my whole life.

@gellyfish – Jonathan – my first tweet-up. Rochester Sweeps Festival. It was fabulous. The man’s a scream. And he shouts ‘Ehhhh!’ a lot when drunk. Legend.

The same day, @methodphoto – Richard – arrived shortly after, an absolute diamond, a gentle giant, good natured and lovely. I’ve seen him a few times since and he’s a brilliant, genuine friend. Takes superb photographs, a very talented man.

In tow with @methodphoto was his small person @vincettenoir – a Mighty Boosh. A real little darling.

@damohopo – Damo – what can I say? This man is destined to be one of my best friends for life. He makes me cry with laughter when I see him. He has an endless list of OCD tendencies and oddities, but for this I love him. Get him to tell you the story about golf clubs. Not near me though. It makes me laugh too much.

@MandyPandy32 – Amanda. I am so lucky to have found her. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. Funny and beautiful, I adore her. Every time I see her, I wish I had her for longer. Another best friend for life.

@frak – Mikey – potty mouth. This man can swear. And he goes to work in clothes he’s slept in. He’s left us now and is living the high life in Australia with @TizBanana. Although I am sad we’ll never have a drinking session including him almost getting beaten up by pikeys again, I’m so happy for him that he’s happy, even if it’s on the other side of the world and we never see him again!

@geekgirl444 – Sara – understandably she was quiet when we met – it was an impromptu Kent Tweet up to meet @Belmsie before she started her year away in the Philipines. Beautiful, funny girls, we had such a fun night.

In Hyde Park I met @StaceyClarkin. Oh my God, the amount I laughed because of her rivalled Damo’s golf club story. The nipple saga is legendary, as was when her phone went off. Beautiful girl. I love her. We’re meeting again soon. I need hours and hours with her to talk about everything. We’d be inseparable if we lived closer. She’s my girl.

More fleeting moments that day included meeting @pilgrimfamilyuk, Helen, and @sheb57, Sheila – I didn’t see either of them for long enough, but they’re both ohsolovely!

Soon I will be meeting @luque89 – Luke and @crazycolours (whose real name is Crazy Colours) for a SingStar singoff and I can’t wait!

Honourary mentions must go to @Mangowe – Manda, whom I haven’t yet met, but have spoken with on the phone, and will be meeting soon – my Pun Princess, the wittiest, prettiest loveliest person ever. Far too clever for her own good. Lovely to talk with, articulate and funny.

I also hope to meet @Rogue_Leader soon too – you need him for a good hashtag pun game. A funny, lovely man and a good friend. Can’t wait to head up North and meet him.

I’ve spoken with @realmikesands on the phone. He’s another funny man, with his posh voice and lots of laughs. A real darling.

I’d love to meet as many people that I talk with on Twitter as possible. You’re all amazing and I can’t get enough of you all.

The concept of etiquette fascinates me endlessly. Of course, everyone’s opinions differs on all subjects, and comparing these ideas is intriguing to me.

Firstly, I’m not even sure of the etiquette of writing about the subject that I’m intending on writing about – how taboo is it? Is it something that no-one should know, or is it fine to laugh about it? I don’t know, but I will go ahead nevertheless.

Aged 16, I was told by a street-wise friend that a year after the first time you have sex, you should have a smear test. She’d just been for her first one. I was horrified at the idea. Not that she’d had hers, and had therefore had popped her cherry aged 15 – that was nothing amongst my friends of the time, one of them was a mere 13, which looking back now, seems awful. We’re all 26 now, to have been sexually active for half our lives already is hideous. What were we all thinking? I digress, it’s the subject of the smear test that horrified me – of course at that age, no detail of anything is left unsaid, so I heard *all* about it. It didn’t sound fun.

I began wondering when I was supposed to have one. Of course, I wasn’t going to ask my mother, and admit what I’d been up to, so I kept quiet. I did everything in my power to dodge the dreaded smear, and the Gods seemed to be on my side. The dates kept changing. It went from a year after losing it, to being 18, to being 21 – I kept somehow avoiding them – it got put up to 25 recently, and somehow I missed it again due to where my birthday fell. I was thrilled.

However, it seems that the time is now upon me. I’ve been caught. I’ve had several letters, which I pretended I didn’t get, but now, I want a repeat prescription of my contraceptive pill, for which I have to have six monthly checks anyway, so when I called to book my check, it was flagged that I had to come in for the smear-test-of-doom. Oh dear. It wasn’t even as easy as, come in tomorrow, or next week. ‘When are you mid-cycle, love?’ When am I what? I haven’t a clue. 10 minutes on the phone later and after lots of head-scratching and comparing diaries, we worked it out. And it’s tomorrow.

As I said, my problem with all of this now, is the etiquette of the situation. Having never had one before, I really don’t know what to expect, my friend’s horror story of 10 years ago is a distant memory. Most importantly, right now, the burning question is the etiquette of the situation. Am I expected to ‘tidy’ my ‘lady garden’? I don’t wish to appear rude and not do so if the answer to that question is yes, yet I don’t want whoever is going to be prodding me to think I’ve made a special effort for the ‘occasion’; Is it an occasion? It’s first thing tomorrow, so I’m not exactly expecting to be wined and dined, but might there be candles and soft music? I at least want the lights to be dimmed. I don’t usually allow people to poke me without any sort of effort on their part.

Now I’ve got into pondering such details, I’m now worrying what I should wear? I don’t want to look keen and go in my shortest skirt, but it feels like I should dress up somehow. Trousers, I’d imagine will be more problematic, and I’ll end up fully half naked. At least with a skirt, it can be more cartoonesque, I’ll hold it up as a barrier so I can’t see what they’re up to. And footwear – socks are a no-no for skirts and trousers – no one likes having their socks left on. This means I’ll have to wear some sort of strappy affair. Can I keep them on while I’m lying down for this hideous test, or do I have to take them off too? Will there be stirrups, my legs in the air? I just don’t know. I’m going to play the whole thing down for now and pretend it’s not happening. I’ll deal with it in the morning.

For reasons I’m entirely sure of, I have been encouraged by some to share my comedy preferences with my readers. So, here goes!

Stuff what I own of a comedy nature. I also own some other stuff, but it’s been lent to people. You know how it is…

Stuff what I love and don’t own – you all know I’m poor:

Flight Of The Conchords
15 Storeys High (Fucking amazing)
The IT Crowd
Father Ted
Summer Heights High <- Fusion of comedy and music win!
Gavin and Stacey (before the hype – I’m a bit off it now)
Curb Your Enthusiasm
Newswipe
Screenwipe
The Day Today
Brass Eye
Scrubs
My Name Is Earl
That Mitchell and Webb Look
Benidorm

I’m confusing myself. Bet I’ve missed loads…

Discuss! =D

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health/healthnews/5090078/Salvia-more-powerful-than-LSD-and-legal.html

‘Salvia divinorum has been outlawed or its sale and distribution restricted in Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, Italy, Japan, Spain and Sweden. Thirteen states in the US have also passed legislation that ranges from placing it in the most serious narcotics category alongside heroin and cocaine to outlawing its sale and distribution to minors under 18.’

Yet, luckily for us, it’s still completely legal, and ridiculously cheap in this country.

To me, there’s a mixed message throughout the article, and I’d sway on the side that this is actually an advert for the drug. Although it was banned in the US because of a suicide, ’causes awful hallucinations, that it could trigger mental health conditions such as schizophrenia,’particularly among young people in their teens and twenties who may well be unaware that they are prone to psychotic episodes’ (does anyone know that they are prone to psychotic episodes?) there are numerous, genius comedy ‘user reviews’ (I like to think) such as:

‘The first time I was just giggly, the second time I saw colours and visuals and patterns and the third time I lost all sense of reality, I felt I was merging into the surface of the sofa. It was pretty scary and unnerving initially. I felt my skin was being peeled back.’

Brilliant.

Beside the health warnings, we’re directed merrily to YouTube, where we’re told there are many videos of people that have taken the drug and turned into jibbering idiots. Of course we’re going to look! Surely this is promoting the product?! So what if there’s health warnings – it states quite clearly that there are no known risks at this time for it causing any damage to the user – (though obviously if it’s being smoked with baccy then there’s the usual smoking associated risks.) And, after all, it’s still legal.

‘Even if it’s non-addictive, you lose your ability to reason, you are incapacitated, you cannot make informed decisions about your behaviour.’ No different to alcohol then really?

And, selling point of the century? ‘Since it metabolises within 15 minutes, there’s no way it would show up on a drug test of any kind.’

But of course, the icing on the cake, to me, has to be the targeted Google Ads a the end of the article. Genius. It’s bad for you, don’t take it – but you can buy it online here…

Targetted advertising at it's best.