The search for work continues, somewhat sluggishly. I spent a few turgid days paralegaling for London law firms, truly at the bottom of the food chain - photocopying and paginating pages and silently cursing the constipated-vowelled bitch from the job agency who put me there for £9.50 an hour. After three days I cracked, and went back to being an erotic text message operator - something which, as many of you have already commented, is something I'm instinctively well-suited for. For those of you still unfamiliar with the Mysteries of the Virtual Sex Industry, my job involves sitting at a computer, logged into a website and receiving messages from sad lonely old bastards who pay £1.50 per message and think they're talking to Sven, a 6 ft 6 Swedish bodybuilder with a 9.5 inch cock. I'm paid, appropriately enough, by the hour, with bonuses if I manage to get the suckers to reply more than 5 times in half an hour. As for the content of the messages - let's just say "Men are dogs!" and leave it there.That boy needs a blog, pronto ... and I'm rather glad BT welcomed me with open arms not long after I arrived! Would being an erotic text message operator class one as an I.T. professional?
‹ 23.7.03 / 0 comment(s) ›
Comments
Feel free to leave a few words about this post. Pithy, on-point comments will earn you 100 frequent surfer miles and a place in the afterlife ...