by Ice Cream Jonsey » Mon Mar 03, 2003 8:29 pm
Look, I don't really know how you guys exchange goods for services in the U.K., but...
.. ah, I was going to rag on you and work in the terms "barter" "rocks" and "frogs" but it would be too predictable. Especially since the English currency is far more valuable than my own.
Anyway, you know what you have to do: STEAL ALL THE SHIT YOU CAN. Seriously, man. Also: I didn't have anything to do with this, did I? I know that you look up to me in some form or another, but I certainly hope that I in *no* way romanticized working in an Electronics Boutique (or "GAME" as they call it over there). Let me disavow you of any sort of romancing. Ahem. I will do so now:
The year and a half I spent working at an Electronics Boutique probably comprises the worst chunk of time that I have ever continuously spent in my entire life. The job sucked away my faith in humanity, made me a cretin with a one-track-mind for games that caused, in at least a small part, the driving away of the only girl that I have ever been truly and unreservedly happy with, and gave rise to the only recurring nightmare that I have ever had in my entire life. There isn't a fortnight that goes by that I don't wake up drenched in anxiety because my sub-conscious had me working back there during Christmas season. If I had to do it all over again, if I had to essentially sacrifice the mountain of trivia I acquired regarding these silly computer and console games for time instead spent working on a bachelor of science in computer science degree, I would do it in an INSTANT. I tried to make the best of my abject failure by writing that game last year, but my strong, measured advice is to RUN LIKE HELL and ensure you don't get anywhere close to falling into the same footprint-of-failure as me.
Seriously, m'man. You know I'm fond of you like that little brother I never had. Er, wait. I mean, the little brother that writes me e-mail that I never had. If it really looks like that manager is going to fuck you over, grab all the shit you can and quit going to work there. Find out what in this world you can stomach, in terms of revision, and put your four years of study in. I mean it with all my heart when I say the LAST thing I want to see happen to you is some sort of perverted pantomime of my own miserable, worthless, dream-abandoned and altogether hopeless existence.
Look, I don't really know how you guys exchange goods for services in the U.K., but...
.. ah, I was going to rag on you and work in the terms "barter" "rocks" and "frogs" but it would be too predictable. Especially since the English currency is far more valuable than my own.
Anyway, you know what you have to do: STEAL ALL THE SHIT YOU CAN. Seriously, man. Also: I didn't have anything to do with this, did I? I know that you look up to me in some form or another, but I certainly hope that I in *no* way romanticized working in an Electronics Boutique (or "GAME" as they call it over there). Let me disavow you of any sort of romancing. Ahem. I will do so now:
[b]The year and a half I spent working at an Electronics Boutique probably comprises the worst chunk of time that I have ever continuously spent in my entire life. The job sucked away my faith in humanity, made me a cretin with a one-track-mind for games that caused, in at least a small part, the driving away of the only girl that I have ever been truly and unreservedly happy with, and gave rise to the only recurring nightmare that I have ever had in my entire life. There isn't a fortnight that goes by that I don't wake up drenched in anxiety because my sub-conscious had me working back there during Christmas season. If I had to do it all over again, if I had to essentially sacrifice the mountain of trivia I acquired regarding these silly computer and console games for time instead spent working on a bachelor of science in computer science degree, I would do it in an INSTANT. I tried to make the best of my abject failure by writing that game last year, but my strong, measured advice is to RUN LIKE HELL and ensure you don't get anywhere close to falling into the same footprint-of-failure as me.[/b]
Seriously, m'man. You know I'm fond of you like that little brother I never had. Er, wait. I mean, the little brother that writes me e-mail that I never had. If it really looks like that manager is going to fuck you over, grab all the shit you can and quit going to work there. Find out what in this world you can stomach, in terms of revision, and put your four years of study in. I mean it with all my heart when I say the LAST thing I want to see happen to you is some sort of perverted pantomime of my own miserable, worthless, dream-abandoned and altogether hopeless existence.