Back at A4E...

Jesus H Christos,

This place is doing my head in. More than usual. And that's quite an achievement when you consider how much I hate this place.

In all honesty I would be more productive at home job hunting than I am here. If it's not the computers running so slow that they make a Sinclair ZX Spectrum look like Deep Blue it's the broadband not being able to handle the amount of people checking their Bebo, Facespace or Mybook sites.

"Ho, Sandra, I've just messaged you on facespace! Gonnae check it and reply to me!"

I shrug my shoulders and shake my head wondering why it is that Coco The Cunt thinks that the Internet should be used to send someone a message when she can easily write it on a piece of paper, make a paper airplane and whip it across the room with more ease. Perhaps it's because Coco the Cunt can't spell worth a fuck and the computer does a spell check...

At the moment I'm sitting in the corridor typing away as all the chairs in the Positive Moves room are taken and this is the only place where I am relatively undisturbed. That is if you don't count the talking heads who are skiving off by claiming they need a piss or are stocking up on tea and coffee.

But that's cool, I can put up with the occasional distraction as long as I don't have to listen to Coco the Cunt telling her friend she's just filled in a Facespace application that rates her looks and she needs a friend to rate her as gorgeous.

Which, if I'm being honest, is a blatant lie. She's as attractive as a bulldog licking piss of a nettle.