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Rescue Chickens

The Kindness of Strangers

Does my arse look fat in this soul?

The demon of paranoia re-visits old Sket

On The Road......

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2006-05-12 - 7:41 p.m.

Bloody hell I'm knackered.

I'm back from my second stage of testing for the Probation Service thingie (I didn't tell them about the getting my face stuck in a vacuum you may be pleased to know) and I've gotta say, I'm quietly confident.

...but I've been quietly confident in the past only to see the Devil fart into my face once again. Remember the Prison Service interview that I failed because they 'had reservations as to my motivation for wanting to work with offenders'? In other words, the Prison Service thinks I'm some kind of psycho freak who suffered near bankruptcy by giving up everything and going to university for 3 years as an adult JUST so that I could get a job which didn't actually need a degree, which would give me access to poor vulnerable sex offenders in order to run a murderous rampage around the place and thus fuck up the rest of my own life.....

...unless their reservations stemmed from me being a freako singleton and they wanted to protect the poor sex offenders from my lust(?!?) Who bloody knows. Bunch of tossing wank faced arseholes (she said in a ladylike way).

Anyhoo, back to today. Last night I washed all the clothes I wanted to wear today. The trousers were still damp when I ironed them but I figured they'd be dry by this morning

.....there is nothing worse than putting on really wet (but nicely ironed) trousers at 5.30am.

I walked around my room like John Wayne for a bit before deciding that I did indeed have to change out of 'em; it was awful, they were bloody soaked. This of course meant I now didn't have anything planned to wear. SHIT SHIT SHIT. I pulled together enough of a smart outfit to feel happy despite me having to wear shoes that make my feet stink worse than if I'd been walking in fields of sloppy shit on a summers day. I actually slipped one foot out of my shoe on the train and almost asphyxiated both myself and the poor bastard with the bowl haircut who looked very much like Richard III sitting opposite. The guy looked SO much like Richard III in fact that I felt compelled to sneak a photograph on my mobile phone camera and send it to Phoe who completely lost the point and cursed me for sending random photos of strange men to her at 6am.

NO ONE understands me.....

Anyhoo, back to today. Apparently the consortium sent out around 4,000 application packs and got 950 back. From this number I was one of 62 who'd made it to this stage and there are 17 places so I've got around a 1 in 4 chance of getting in from this point. The first test was a group discussion which became very heated and I do feel that one of the candidates argued ridiculous points (loudly and uncompromisingly) and attempted to impose her own values on people. Basically we had to discuss a fictitious community which has suffered a devastating natural disaster (I got the impression it was similar to the Tsunami) and from 6 proposals we had to choose 3 to try to sort out some of the problems. This girl, in all honesty argued passionately that she didn't think we should billet those who'd lost their houses in with those who still had homes as, and I quote, "I wouldn't want strangers living with me in MY home so you can't expect others to do it!".

"...but these people are traumatised and are going to start getting sick and dying unless they get shelter urgently"

"Well, I'm just saying that that's what I believe. I think that we should go for the option which levys a 10% tax on everyone's savings instead"

"....so, you are saying that you would leave people dying in the street rather than offer them shelter during a major disaster and THEN, to make them feel even more wretched, you'd take 10% of their savings too? Bloody hell....." (I did actually put this in much more politically correct language btw)

The second part was a written exercise and I think that went well so all in all, I'm reasonably confident. Of course, my paranoia demon hasn't been here all day. I give him a few days before I start re-analysing stuff I've said or written before I start genuinely believing that I wrote and said the biggest load of bollocks in the world and believing I did so badly I will have to change my name and leave the country to hide from the shame.

...and that's it from me. Apart from sticking a troll to the bonnet of my beetle in a crap version of the Rolls Royce Spirit of Destiny I've got nothing else to tell you.

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