Hello once again.
Sorry if it's been a while since my last post. It's this wonderful thing called life you see. It's very good at keeping me occupied, especially a certain aspect of my life known as work.
Also known as a job, or an occupation, it is an important tool in keeping you fed, warm, sheltered, giving you life meaning and can also prevent boredom induced madness (although depending on the job it may do quite the opposite). Some of you may be familiar with this concept, while others may not be, but there are also some who seem to have misunderstood it all together. This is the subject of today's rant.
According to the Oxford Dictionary, the definition of a job is: "A paid position of regular employment" or "A task or piece of work, especially one that is paid". Notice how the emphisis is on position, pay, and work? This would indicate that it is something structured, not necessarily enjoyable but is needed for the function of the big society; especially in terms of paying for things which are needed such as housing, food, water, utilities, etc. It is clearly something that bears great importance in one's life especially when one wants to better themselves through their occupations and thus climb the socio-economic ladder, a daunting task that requires accurate records of past occupations and achievements. And with such imformation being easily accessible through a google search I feel that if someone chooses to list their current occupation on every social media site they subscribe to, then they should certainly take it more seriously.
On which I am going to say right now that having your occupation as a 'Full Time Mummy' or 'Guardian to Little Angels' and then listing it based at a made up place like 'Never Never Land' or 'My Perfect Castle' is complete and utter bullshit! I don't care if you're a mum to millions of little pie-faced brats, I couldn't give a toss about your reasons for not slaving away in a shop/office like the rest of us or how you managed to drop a small football team out of your vagina in the space of a few years, or how many women you've impregnated because 'you're the fucking daddy, lol'. Whilst I appreciate parenthood can be a difficult and rewarding task if done correctly and sometimes even more challenging then going out to work, it does not count as an occupation. You do not get paid for it (if you do then that would make me very suspicious of your reasons for having them) and it is not something you can just take or leave like a regular job. You can't just wake up one day and say "I don't want to be a mum anymore!" and dump your children on someone else (although there are some who will do that, in which case you are scum!). Once you become a parent you are a parent for life, and sadly there are some who can never have such a precious gift that you trivialise. I have no children of my own yet, mainly because I can't afford to give a child the stability it needs, but I am working on that and if I do become a mother one day I will treat every moment of my life with that child as a fucking privalige, not some tool I can list as my 'occupation' on Facebook or Twitter.
If you don't have an occupation just put 'house wife/husband' or 'unemployed' because once your little brood grow up to become big expensive broods (or perhaps start having broods of their own) you'll probably need to look for a full time paying job, and trust me, potential employers will hardly take you seriously if they search your name only to find you've apparently been the 'Chief of the Cheeky Little Monkies Jay-Jay and Keiran' for the past 5 years. Seriously, just be honest and stop making yourselves out to be complete twats.
Speaking of twats, another thing that annoys me even more are people who have jobs but insist on putting up made up job titles, such as 'Legendary Super Shelf Stacker' or 'The Real Life Muffin Man', for pretty much the same reasons as the unemployed parents above, only theirs is much more tragic as they may have okay jobs but are basically shooting themselves in the foot and letting themselves down more then anything with their stupid occupation titles. I remember a certain person on my facebook feed many years ago who had their job title listed as 'The King' at a perticular supermarket. I tried to envision what a King's role in a supermarket would be, and came to the conclusion that if they were really 'The King' then 1: they probably wouldn't work in retail, and 2: if they did they would probably have the top job and list themselves as 'Chief Executive' rather than 'The King'.
Of course falsely listing yourself as a chief executive would be a lot more difficult to get away with then 'The King' but hey maybe I'm taking this too seriously, retail sucks arse, I should lighten up, blah blah blah. And I know how it feels to have a a crappy job in retail as I've been there and I'm even guilty in the past of putting up a silly job title (I was once a 'Shelf Stacking Superstar') so I suppose you could say it's pot calling kettle black. But looking back on it now I feel I should've taken more pride in my work, not just to make me feel better about my dead-end situation, but to also boost my potential job prospects so I wouldn't have been held back for so long. Because no matter how shit your job might seem, you could be cleaning the toilets for a colonic irrigation centre, but if you can get those toilets so clean you could eat your dinner off it within the space of a few hours, and continue to have a cheerful exterior even when a laxative infested IBS sufferer rushes into one of your cubicles 5 minutes before the end of your shift, you will shine out to upcoming head hunters more then the toilet bowls you've just spent 2 hours scrubbing clean, and certainly more then your miserable arsehole of a co-worker who listed himself as 'Lord of the Poos' at 'The Real Life Hell Hole'. He just made himself look like a anus.
So take care when listing your CV up on the internet, take pride in whatever shit you do to survive, and enjoy my craptacular illustrations. I bid you farewell for now ;)
Not Another Orange
Thursday, 4 September 2014
Monday, 19 May 2014
Well this is nice
I've been struggling to think of what I could post next on here, mainly because I've been either working or out doing really boring things. Also it's been quite sunny and warm these past couple of days. So yeah, laundry time!
I'm still having issues with sneezing at work, and generally feeling a bit run down. I began wonder as I looked at myself in the mirror if it was possible to gain weight on just one side of your body, as I felt like one half of me looked fatter then the other. I tried to picture this possibility in a cartoon, then realised it looked more like a severe case of hives then weight gain.
Whilst I have nothing else better to talk about I may as well share a bit of animation I did in my spare time over a year ago. It is based on the idea of a bunny going into space... and what it would think once it was there...
Enjoy :)
I'm still having issues with sneezing at work, and generally feeling a bit run down. I began wonder as I looked at myself in the mirror if it was possible to gain weight on just one side of your body, as I felt like one half of me looked fatter then the other. I tried to picture this possibility in a cartoon, then realised it looked more like a severe case of hives then weight gain.
Enjoy :)
Friday, 9 May 2014
In Mourning, But Determined to Live
Yesterday was very significant for me. It marked the five year anniversary of my brother's death.
David was a remarkable man. He was highly intelligent, funny, always brought a smile to your face when you were down, and had a remarkable talent for clearing out a room with his farts (I blame the pickled eggs he use to love eating...). A true big brother and a friend.
But like everyone he wasn't without his problems; he had emotional issues all his life, he was finally diagnosed with Asperges Syndrome just two years before his death, which unfortunately led him to take a path of drugs and crime. He had battled so hard against his heroin addiction along with all his other inner demons, but sadly five years ago he lost his final battle.
It's always a horrible time of year to me. It stirs up lots of mixed emotions; it feels like it happened a lifetime ago, but it also feels like it happened only yesterday. In the week leading up this date I had got into a depressive state over the whole situation (partially one of the reasons why I started this blog) and had been comtemplating what to do on the day. My brother has no grave for me to visit as he was cremated and my mother can't bear to let go of his ashes, understandably, so I contemplated travelling to the place where he died; Margate in Kent. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, the pain is still too raw for me to confront on my own and I couldn't find anyone able to go with me. So I felt a sense of despair. What should I do? How can I honour his memory without becoming an emotional wreck?
Then I began to think about what David would want to do if he was still alive. When he wasn't on the drugs he was so full of life and knew how to have a good time, and I remembered asking him for advice on what I should do with my life when I was contemplating dropping out of sixth form college (high school for any international readers). He said "Well, do you really want to drop out?" I said "Well no not really, it's just that I'm struggling to keep up with both my coursework and a part time job, and I need the money to go out with my friends." His words after that point will always stay with me:
"If you don't want to drop out, then don't. If your job's affecting what you really want to do with your life then you'll be better off giving up your job. You're so clever and it would be such a waste on your talent if you let things such as money or your friends get in the way of your dreams. Don't ever give up on yourself, if you really want something you've got to go out there and get it!"
If he was still alive he wouldn't want me to waste my life doing something that made me miserable just because of his death, he would want me to go out there and live my life doing the things I enjoy; I concluded that was the best way to honour his memory. So I decided to go for a day out in London and spent most of the day in the British Museum looking at my favourite exhibitions. Mainly objects and jewellry from Celtic Britain, my favourite items being the Wandsworth Shield and the Waterloo Helmet:
The important thing is I did something I actually wanted to do, and I felt like if David was looking down on me he'd approve of me continuing my life rather then wasting away in the shadow of greif.
David was not a person that wanted to die, but his life and death was filled with much anguish and regret. I feel like now I can finally take comfort in the fact that my brother had a purposeful and meaningful life, despite it being so short, and that he is now finally in peace.
Amen.
(P.S. I managed to do a bit of doodling whilst on the train. Enjoy)
David was a remarkable man. He was highly intelligent, funny, always brought a smile to your face when you were down, and had a remarkable talent for clearing out a room with his farts (I blame the pickled eggs he use to love eating...). A true big brother and a friend.
But like everyone he wasn't without his problems; he had emotional issues all his life, he was finally diagnosed with Asperges Syndrome just two years before his death, which unfortunately led him to take a path of drugs and crime. He had battled so hard against his heroin addiction along with all his other inner demons, but sadly five years ago he lost his final battle.
It's always a horrible time of year to me. It stirs up lots of mixed emotions; it feels like it happened a lifetime ago, but it also feels like it happened only yesterday. In the week leading up this date I had got into a depressive state over the whole situation (partially one of the reasons why I started this blog) and had been comtemplating what to do on the day. My brother has no grave for me to visit as he was cremated and my mother can't bear to let go of his ashes, understandably, so I contemplated travelling to the place where he died; Margate in Kent. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, the pain is still too raw for me to confront on my own and I couldn't find anyone able to go with me. So I felt a sense of despair. What should I do? How can I honour his memory without becoming an emotional wreck?
Then I began to think about what David would want to do if he was still alive. When he wasn't on the drugs he was so full of life and knew how to have a good time, and I remembered asking him for advice on what I should do with my life when I was contemplating dropping out of sixth form college (high school for any international readers). He said "Well, do you really want to drop out?" I said "Well no not really, it's just that I'm struggling to keep up with both my coursework and a part time job, and I need the money to go out with my friends." His words after that point will always stay with me:
"If you don't want to drop out, then don't. If your job's affecting what you really want to do with your life then you'll be better off giving up your job. You're so clever and it would be such a waste on your talent if you let things such as money or your friends get in the way of your dreams. Don't ever give up on yourself, if you really want something you've got to go out there and get it!"
If he was still alive he wouldn't want me to waste my life doing something that made me miserable just because of his death, he would want me to go out there and live my life doing the things I enjoy; I concluded that was the best way to honour his memory. So I decided to go for a day out in London and spent most of the day in the British Museum looking at my favourite exhibitions. Mainly objects and jewellry from Celtic Britain, my favourite items being the Wandsworth Shield and the Waterloo Helmet:
The important thing is I did something I actually wanted to do, and I felt like if David was looking down on me he'd approve of me continuing my life rather then wasting away in the shadow of greif.
David was not a person that wanted to die, but his life and death was filled with much anguish and regret. I feel like now I can finally take comfort in the fact that my brother had a purposeful and meaningful life, despite it being so short, and that he is now finally in peace.
Amen.
(P.S. I managed to do a bit of doodling whilst on the train. Enjoy)
Tuesday, 6 May 2014
Anyone Else Allergic to Work?
I think I must be. Everytime I go into the office I sneeze constantly. It's been like that since I started working there in October. At first everyone thought it was a cold. Now that we're getting into summer everyone assumes it's hayfever. Seems that only I know the truth...
At least I managed to do a bit of sketching during my lunchbreak today, even if it does look a bit like a school kid's take on The Scream painting. I don't know where the wasp came from. For starters I can't remember the last time I saw a wasp. Seen a few bumble bees around recently, but no wasps, thank God...
Anyways, there are worse things then imaginary wasps to ruin my day. When I got home I was greeted by two parcels I'd been eagerly awaiting. "Great!" I thought "Those food canisters and spice jars I've been waiting for have finally arrived!" Sadly when I opened one of the packages I was greeted by this:
Isn't online shopping conveinient... and it only took six days to arrive. Just brilliant -_-
But oh well, bye bye for now. One can only wonder what tomorrow will bring...
Monday, 5 May 2014
In the beginning, there was chocolate....
... And now all that is left is the bowl of oranges you've been putting off eating all week, because you actually hate oranges, yet your mum insisted on giving you some oranges because "They're good for you!!"...
On that note, welcome to the beginnings of my new blog. I've started this blog in order to give myself some space to show some of the art I've done over the years, and to also have a bit of a whinge about the general crap going on in my life (mostly to do with oranges).
And on that note, here is an example of a card design I did at the end of last year for Christmas 2013. I made this in response to being bombarded with satsumas in my stocking as a little girl. Oh how I love my mum...
And yes, I am aware satsumas and oranges are technically different. But if it's got an orange skin that's impossible to peel and tastes like I'm washing my mouth out with acid, then it may as well be an orange. It's like calling a piece of poo a different name because it came out of someone else's bum and has a slightly different colour and composition to it. It's still crap whatever way you look at it, so just get over yourselves.
Okay, my rant is over for the time being. But stay tuned for more stupid art and orange rants (and possibly poo rants depending on how I'm feeling...)
On that note, welcome to the beginnings of my new blog. I've started this blog in order to give myself some space to show some of the art I've done over the years, and to also have a bit of a whinge about the general crap going on in my life (mostly to do with oranges).
And on that note, here is an example of a card design I did at the end of last year for Christmas 2013. I made this in response to being bombarded with satsumas in my stocking as a little girl. Oh how I love my mum...
And yes, I am aware satsumas and oranges are technically different. But if it's got an orange skin that's impossible to peel and tastes like I'm washing my mouth out with acid, then it may as well be an orange. It's like calling a piece of poo a different name because it came out of someone else's bum and has a slightly different colour and composition to it. It's still crap whatever way you look at it, so just get over yourselves.
Okay, my rant is over for the time being. But stay tuned for more stupid art and orange rants (and possibly poo rants depending on how I'm feeling...)
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