"Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself.
Choose your future...
Like Renton I choose something else too but thankfully it wasn't heroine.
I choose to chase my dreams :)
Life is sweet when you don't have to jostle for space on the tube at seven in the morning to get to work & then spend your day in a drab-ass uniform, working for a complete bunch of wankfists.
Grateful? You bet!
Sometimes I do have to bite the bullet though, when the bills are dropping through the letterbox like evil cluster bombs...usually at this time of year...stinging water rates & another years worth of painful council tax.
When it comes to working for the man I've always had a guerrilla approach, in and out as quick as you like.
It probably has a lot to do with the sort of soul destroying jobs that litter my past.
The longest I've ever lasted in one place was four and a half years at 'The Lamb & Flag' in Covent Garden. The job itself was as brain-numbing as they come but the people were awesome and the owners relished individuals. You could be yourself and dress the way you liked.
Unfortunately the pub was sold to a big faceless brewery and that's when I jumped ship.
The mere thought of working for a big company and having to wear a uniform gives me daymares.
I still know a few publicans in the West End so I may be able to get a wee part-time gig in a pub, as long as it doesn't interfere with my Frocktasia marketeering ;)
Today's ensemble was inspired by licorice allsorts...
|Vintage 60s bubblegum pink skirt suit, 70s dagger collar shirt, 80s silk tie, J & M pin-badges, layered tights (sheer black & green nets), 80s boots, 50s crochet beret, gloves & Frocktasia earrings.|
I'm currently re-reading Trainspotting in Swedish and I'm finding the translation rather hilarious for want of a better word, talk about lost in translation.
Have an awesome Friday folks, enjoy :)
Loads of love,