pink rubber tip under missy's lip

I had a job interview this morning. I was absolutely fucking shit, don't think I got the job. Obviously the guy who did the interview had got the questions out of everyone else's rubbish sacks, "describe yourself" "what is your role in a team situation?" ... that kind of fucking bollocks. Makes one want to screem and shout out: "its a basement job, fucker, I'm the fucking guy you want now let me get working. Asshole." Shit, man, how difficult is it to get a job? I'm finding it really fucking hard. I suck at interviews, but if a guy asks shit formulaic questions. Ahhhh.
Free from shitfuckers for the rest of the day I watched the cycling, read the guardian, chatted with the bro and spent hours surfing.
It's amazing how the internet is so adictive. You try living a couple of days without it. The Chinese are treating internet addiction. I'm reading Wild Swans (Jung Chang). I've just finished reading John Simpson's"News from No Man's Land: Reporting the World" which is part-memoir and part history of foreign journalism: full of interesting stories from Afghanistan, very well written and an interesting book to read.