A little over half an hour after my first post and I'm writing again. Addicted much? No. A little overzealous about the whole new, shiny, blog-thing? You're probably right. Just a note: The word 'overzealous' just so happens to be my favorite word at the moment. Meaning that I'll probably try to fit it in where ever I can. (That's what she said.) Misuse of said word could also be a problem for me as well. But I'll generally try to mix things up with the vocab. :)
Reading through my last post, I realized that I had massively deterred from the original plan I had for writing a first post. "GG Hayden." To those not savvy on gamer talk, 'GG' is a much shortened term for 'Good Game'. A phrase usually expressed to teammates and members of the opposition to show civil courtesy and generally acceptable E-sportsmanship. Saying it outside of gaming, however, is, more often than not, used as a sarcy retort to an action, or inaction, that you disapprove of without causing a fight or a full-blown argument on why you feel you can 'Diss' someone. Other than leaving the person feeling the bitter sting of your obvious distaste for their actions, it shouldn't cause too much of a stir. (I underlined 'shouldn't' as a fail safe so that people don't think I'm ensuring that it won't cause problems.)
So moving on from my mentally scarring moped adventures, I never told you what it is that I do. Right now you must all be thinking that I'm a complete bum that sits at home, on his PC, wasting his qualifications and deciding that writing a blog is a much better way to pass the time than going out and finding a job. Well...you'd be half right.
I actually have two jobs. Not full-time though, since that'd be impossible...or improbable. I mean, who needs sleep these days when there's a tonne of energy shots and energy drinks and energy tablets and..yea, you get the point. So, two part-time jobs? How in the world did I manage to swindle my way into that joyous predicament? Well, one of them, I'd class it as my main source of employment, is working in a Department Store. In the huge Toy section, to be precise. And not just any Toy section, no. Winner of the Toys Independent Retailer of the Year award. Yes, yes, thank you, thank you. I would love to accept partial responsibility for this prestigious award, in fact, it was all me!
But I can't. See the fact is, although I handed in my C.V. in the hopes of joining the Toys department and "Doing my bit", working with a close-knit team to provide spoilt little shits with every single toy that they could ever want ever, which, nine times out of ten, they do, I don't actually do any of that at all. No, instead I stand in a corner next to the damn toilets, flying crappy, little, remote control helicopters in the hopes that some stupid idiot will buy one and appease the constant urges of my direct manager (And one of the 50 billion directing managers of the family run company) to "Keep on flying, Hayden." that are usually ended with a cheesy, half-assed smile that threatens to rip apart his face if he was actually, genuinely smiling.
We're selling them at a loss anyways. He bought about 500. They suck. Now we've had to reduce the price to less than what we bought them in for, per helicopter. (For those that didn't know.) But Hey! We sell every mortal spare you could want for it too. So if your four year old child decides that, one day, your £49.99 RC Helicopter would look rather great in their mouth and then spat out onto the floor, then trodden on repeatedly until it resembled an early prototype of the Anti-Eating Facemask, you could come in and spend more money rebuilding the damned thing, when it'd be easier and cheaper to buy a new one. And thus the vicious cycle starts again.