Monday, bloody Monday

I've realised I don't really feel like blogging after doing my last post. It's not too often that I write about anything of any great importance so when I do I'm inclined just to leave it there for a bit, rather than go back to my usual frippery.

But, sure.

Started the new job today. Not since my supermarket shelf monkey days have I had to work five straight hours without so much as a sniff of a coffee, a bottle of Club Orange or a cigarette. There wasn't even any scones in the place for God's sake! How do some people live with themselves? Thankfully today was a once-off as there was heaps of new students to assess and steal from and stuff. Really don't like this whole 'work' thing though, 6.30 is meant to be the time I go to bed at, not the time I get up.

Tell me this, dear readers: does every other blogger work a desk job that allows them to blog as they please during working hours? There's feck all posting done at the weekends, or even the evenings, from what I can make out. Annie has bucked the trend a bit over the past couple of weekends though. Maybe everyone else actually makes a living out of this nonsense.
I've tried blogging during working hours but the kids kept saying things like "Erm, sir, we've finished that work you gave us and Larry keeps sticking his pen down his sweaty arse-crack and puttin it in my ear. And I think I like it." Like, seriously, fuck off you little shits, I'm trying to write a witty post about what an hilariously incompetent teacher I am. And if you'd shut the fuck up down the back and leave Lisa's skirt alone I might be able to work out how to embed Youtube clips of Alan Partridge onto my site.

Having said all that, I did come across a new blog I like very much over the weekend. Slyscribe, written by the enigmatic 'Little Miss' is neatly designed and has short, snappy little posts that get straight to the heart of what she wants to say without all the fecking around that many of us have to do before we make any kind of a point. We at Chancing My Arm (sometimes I refer to myself as a collective to feel more powerful) like people who shoot from the hip, speak from the heart, and that kind of thing. So far she's only had the comments of myself, Darren and Lottie to sustain her ego and, God help us, that's a wretched state of affairs to be in. Frankly, I'm so blogtarded I don't have a clue how many people actually read this page but if you do, and you've made it this far into possibly my babbliest post to date, then get over there and drop some comments and lurve.