What's the difference between myself and yourself or the general populace as you like to be referred to? Well apart from my inability to us proper grammar and my fabulous hair, the main difference between the likes of me and the likes of you is that I am an artiste. I’m sure you already noticed this from the fabulously constructed verbiage on this very web box. (As well as the pictures which aren't as good but are still better than the stick men you draw.) You may also have noticed that every little thing I do is magic and everything I do just turns you on, again this is the power of the artiste. (And I’m well good at Nintendo, buddy.)
What does this mean? Well I’m going to tell you naturally because you couldn't possibly work it out. It means a lot of things. For instance (frinstance abbreviation fans) while you are stuck in your mindless jobs I too may work but it is only by choice so that I may observe the lower orders and one day hope to write a sitcom about the experience - a fact I will repeat to myself as many as 500 times a day in the hopes that I will one day believe it. (Incidentally the sitcom is called 'Workfreunde' and it features much ironic
i.e.
Kenneth Raltush "So then he says I hate the blacks and.."
Fenton (Is Black) "Greetings"
Kenneth Raltush "Um"
Fenton (Is Black) "Don't let me stop you, I love a bit of japering"
Kenneth Raltush "Um yeah so then we raped him because he hated blacks"
Goloch Thandier "That's ironic...because it's normally them who do the raping...the blacks"
Kenneth Raltush "You can't say that it’s offensive to Fenton and also me even though I’m not a black."
Goloch Thandier "Sorry I meant to say the charcoal men"
Fenton (Is Black) "..."
Kenneth Raltush "..."
Goloch Thandier "..."
What Im trying to say is that while you may be trapped in your particular task an artiste such as myself can offer a helping hand to the third rater man. Like our great lord Ahura Mazdha I am generous and I share my wisdom. (I definitely cannot vouch for the spelling on that so apologies to Mr Zoroaster if I accidentally did a heresy. I would normally Google it but I’m at work and they monitor the internet. Of course I mean I choose to limit my own internet access in order to expand my own mind powers or something like that. Don't think that you can stop me "Smart"filter one day you will Wu-tang taste the pain. ) I’m therefore going to suggest potential escape routes you might try before the inevitable suicide attempt. That's not to say some of them don't involve suicide though. Oh and if any of these do actually work (and by that I mean don't involve some sort of premature death) then could you please let me know because I’m desperate to be out of here.
Escape 1: The messy escape
Something I’ve wrote about before and thought about many many times. I am of course talking about spree killing. (Don't worry though I was only thinking about how naughty it was.) A popular pastime amongst college students this generally involves getting hold of some sort of weapon, normally some sort of firearm but if you're from one of those countries with sensible gun laws you might consider a large crocodile Dundee style knife. It’s not that it isn't possible to acquire guns; it’s just that the people that sell them tend to be Eastern European or common. Once you're sufficiently tooled up with death dealing equipment you need simply make you way to your place of work as normally as possible although if you normally get the bus I wouldn't bother paying for a return ticket. You then need only to pick your moment to become that particular angel which moves on silent wings. Just try to remember to enjoy yourself and not to worry too much about the inevitability of turning the gun on yourself, this is both passe and unnecessary. Those friendly police marksmen will always be happy to oblige with that sort of thing.
As escapes go it isn’t a brilliant one because you are going to end up going to the fiery furnace or at least ole chokey joes of her majestic secret service (Prison). These are places not even I can help you escape from, well not for free anyways. It does however make a good last resort and you might even get your picture in the paper like you always dreamed, it’s just a shame it will be next to words like "mentalist" and "used to play Doom 2". No one ever plays Doom 2 they just buy it because they heard someone say it was good once, that person was an American, he went on to say "Frag"and "LAN party"
Escape 2: The spontaneous escape
Just go, get out now! Run as far as you can. But take a laptop/blackberry with you so you can continue reading my instructions. Quick get outside there are no guards on the door and it’s such a nice day. No one stopping you is there? Isn't it nice been outside? But you need to get further away. Run as far as you can and don't look back, you don't want to get turned into a pillar of salt do you? And oh finally you're out except you have to wait for the traffic light to change, but that doesn't matter now you're free, you have all the time in the world. Oops you left your mobile phone in the office, but does it really matter? That's just another shackle, a Bluetooth equipped millstone around your neck. But what if I have a text? Maybe you should go back and get it and then be free. Forget that you never get texts anyway you should go down this street because you've never been here before even though you walk past it every damn day. Oh my God it's a council estate you're going to get stabbed; at least they won't be able to steal your phone. Lord, you’re going to die an unemployed and get buried in an ice cream tub. What the hell are you doing?
It's around about this point the decision is made. Most of us will crumble pathetically and return to the office pretending we were doing some photocopying and hoping people won't notice the tears. Those that don't are in the special percentage of people whose brain chemistry lends itself to mental illness. It's safe to say they are no longer reading this as they went feral well before the first mention of mobile phones and now no longer know how to read. At this precise moment they are wearing a loin cloth made of pigeon feathers and preparing to smash a Childs skull with a huge rock so that they might eat. Some might say I caused this but I say SOCIETY caused it.
Oh and you didn't have a text, loser.
Escape 3: The sensible escape
A long shot but you could just go somewhere else. Like get another job. Of course this is a lie as all jobs are the same (data entry) and the people you will be working with will just be palette swaps of the ones you work with now. Your pay may look like its going to get better but Georgio Moroder will just take it off you in student loan repayments and benefits for ugly people. The only thing about this plan is that it gives you hope, hope for change. Oh and the ability to not bother doing anything for 12 weeks as you spend your last six at your old place skiving and the first six at your new place saying I’m new here, I didn't know! Both of which I've been doing in my current job for nearly a year now but then I am an expert.
And don't forget you will have to redo all the arduous work you did when you got your last job such as training people to not try to speak you and finding out how little you can do without being sacked. You might even have to have a job interview which is somewhat ridiculous when you think about the menagerie of trained animals that could do your job were it not for the fact that you have to pay vets but the NHS is free. You may feel you are actually working with said animals, that's a little bit arrogant and not the kind of talk I would engage in were people able to hear.
Escape 4: The faux ultimate escape.
As demonstrated by Charles Darwin who hid in a canoe for five years until people thought he was dead. Sadly like the majority of people who walk the earth he was an uncontrollable imbecile and so gave away the scheme by letting people who though he was dead see him doing things that dead people cannot. (i.e. walking, eating , appearing in court over charges of massive fraud etc). This doesn't mean to say that it's impossible to make use of this escape plan, rather that it takes a lot to deal with the mental trauma it may cause. For example while visiting your own funeral in disguise as your long lost identical cousin Leroy; you may overhear people saying things about you that you find unpleasant. Things such as "He found the conflicting art styles of super smash brothers acceptable and felt a cohesive art direction would have been a fool’s errand." or even worse "I don't think his hair was all that good." Scathing words indeed, could you handle that? and if you couldn't could you pass the control pad to someone who can?
It's also worth a mention that if you do get found out the press will demonise you and loot your bins. Just remember they’re just jealous they hadn't thought of it first and you can always put razor wire around your bins. Oh an make sure you have some sort of life insurance or pension to claim on otherwise the entire thing is a waste of time, well apart from the precious memories that will last a lifetime but you can’t pay hookers with those. Not authentically female ones anyway.
Escape 5: The fabulous escape
The only reason anyone has a job is to get hold of those precious Uncle Benjamins. However need this be the only way to get hold of the "do ray moi"? Of course they need not. Need I be saying "need" all the time? No I don't.
What I'm trying to say is that the advent of reality TV such as Pop-Factor, the pride of Britain awards and strictly lets go has made fame and more importantly fortune open to all kinds of "people". (Seriously though it’s easy to laugh at such things but they are the only thing offering prospects to the common people therefore preventing them from continuously rioting until communism is made legal.) This means that any of us can escape our humdrum lives through the medium of public trial and embarrassment. I can already hear people at the back talking about dignity but where the dignity in entering data for people who haven't even tried to engage with the challenge posed to notions of truth by postmodernist thought. The answer of course is that there is none but I can neither prove it nor communicate that notion to you as I understand it. The real question of course is do I need to? That is if you accept my authority on what the question is, if indeed questions can be said to exist. And on it goes.
I can also hear people saying "But what if we have no talents." Well I can't actually hear them it’s just that everyone is so predictable I know they will say it. Must you continue to doubt me? Even the most talent less of individuals can get a shot at the big time so long as they have a big (annoying) personality and pretend they are stupid enough to believe in their own capabilities. This by the way is more a reference to the likes of Chico Marx and Super Robot TWINZAM than to Leona Lewis as we wouldn’t want her turning up on the doorstep and doing X-caliburs on us. She might even bring Ralph, Clark, Heidern AND Jeidern and then where would we be? The King of fighters '94 that’s where!
Escape 6: Have you seen trainspotting? No neither have I but it’s about common people who take drugs.
Word on the street is that if you take enough naughty drugs, for example Gladstone Whizzies or Glasnost biscuits, you won’t even care if your job is boring due to the excitement of the intoxications. While you won’t actually escape your life of boredom and slavery to the bourgeoisie you will stick it to the farmer and his wife by being unaware of your surroundings and spending all your money on the drugs rather than the consumer goods our society revolves around. If you're very lucky you might even get sacked for thieving Tipex to fund your habit and get yourself onto one of those sweet government funded rehabilitation programs you hear so much about. The only downside to this is that Daley Thompson would never speak to you again. Oh and that only bores and fools take drugs. It’s far more interesting to manually break down your perceptions through a series of controlled manic episodes. For instance, try to act like your minor job is a cover for the fact you are actually a spy selling trade secrets to your competitors or even the Russians. Take photos of documents, note down conversations and generally skulk around. You will be amazed both at how easy industrial espionage is AND how quickly your paranoia at being caught for something you aren’t actually doing will take control of your life. For added bonus points send all your secret files as text messages to sky news and award yourself a Golden Gun for every one they read out.
These are my ideas for now, which is why I am still working rather than engaged in sexual acts on some sort of hover boat wearing a crown. (Both I and the hover boat would be wearing crowns). If you have any ideas of your own then you should probably run a blog. Until next time.
Peace out padres
- Bobbins
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