I was thinking about pudding actually.
The news is I've got an interview in 11 hours.
Yes, its a horridly degrading pornshop job, yes the interviewer is a woman... yes I'm going to use my sexuality and approachable winning smile and my best shirts that play up my shoulder and neckline
I need work. Like you don't know anyone else that hasn't done worse in the same situation?
What do I need this job for?
Survival? A psp... and some fucking shoes.
Christ, these things are worn down to nothing. I can feel grass through the soles.
I need work.
I NEED to get out of here.
I need MONEY to get out of here.
I need WORK to get MONEY!
... see how this is figured?
Good.
What kinda shoes am I getting? I thought I'd get something snazzy that I'd have an anurism over if I ever spilled mustard on them...
*clocks you upside the head*
Dark, comfortable, and I can run in them if I have to.
Utility. Something I can spill my spaghetti sauce on and not notice.
*sigh*
Anyway... yeah. Wish me luck.
Hopefully they like what I have to say.
Good night.