A very dull existance indeed.
Funnily enough, in the space of a week, I’ve been seen twice by a horde of strangers hopping, skipping and running around Queen Street like a fucking 16-year-old girl.
Both times I’ve been chased by someone, though not for any violent action…except I’m sure I saw intent to destroy in James eyes last night, but that could have been him eying the Chicken Mcnuggets I’d swiped from his girly. I’d managed to shove one down my gullet before he caught me, and RIPPED MY JACKET. Cunt.
That brought to a close a bad week for my jackets. At work on Tuesday I tore the pocket of my favorite suede number on the stair sticky out bits. My boss laughed at me. He’s a cunt too. Speaking of work, you can see my name, in all its lameness here:
http://www.battlefront.co.nz
Not to blow my own trumpet or anything, but I’m fucking fantastic at what I do. The only way to appreciate my fine attention to detail, and my deft brush strokes is to compare my work, with those that went before me. Most of the time, other peoples work looks like its been commissioned by a chimpanzee, or worse, someone with cerebral palsy. Except for Jimmy, and sometimes Alan, they’re alright I guess, but they aren’t “bona fided” professionals like me. But….
The only comment I’ve had so far, from the public at large, is from some Texan who emailed Wayne (the dude that does all the online shit at work) about one of my Tigers. He said - and he was right - that the turret hatch was positioned wrong. He didn’t say ‘fuck my wetback, how did that new painter of yours do that three colour camo so well, and what’s with the extreme level of detail?’. Nosiree, he just had to point out my level of incompetence whereas differing Ausf’s (that’s German for mark) had differing hatches. When I demanded Wayne give me this fatarselumpofshitgoodfornothingnomatesgirlfriendlesscocksucker’s email addy, he told me that it wasn’t a good idea to email customers telling them ‘to get a fucking life, and pay more attention to the finer things in life, and don’t fucking vote for Bush’. I guess he had a point. I can be rather vitriolic…that’s also why I shouldn’t go out on the piss in town, and should stay at home.
But staying at home is dull, and when I’m there, I feel like I should do more work, which is good and bad. I have too much to do you see. Not only have I got a quota of sorts for the company, I have two army’s to paint for other people. One for my new boss at that…. and he’s expecting stuff in a certain time. That’s poo’s.
I’m going to go do some more research now, so I don’t get more yanks emailing about what I did wrong. Research eats at my time terribly. For instance, I spent roughly 4 hours looking up British jeeps the other night, to make sure what handed drive they were. Imagine if I made them right handed, and in fact they were still all left handed (as they are yank made). I’d be laughed out of town I would. I’m pretty sure they are left hand drive though, but I bet there were 15 that weren’t, and this will be pointed out to me by some well meaning rivet head.
Off to look at ‘Kurskian’ Tigers now, and to make sure I know where the hatch has to be placed. Texan prick.
Both times I’ve been chased by someone, though not for any violent action…except I’m sure I saw intent to destroy in James eyes last night, but that could have been him eying the Chicken Mcnuggets I’d swiped from his girly. I’d managed to shove one down my gullet before he caught me, and RIPPED MY JACKET. Cunt.
That brought to a close a bad week for my jackets. At work on Tuesday I tore the pocket of my favorite suede number on the stair sticky out bits. My boss laughed at me. He’s a cunt too. Speaking of work, you can see my name, in all its lameness here:
http://www.battlefront.co.nz
Not to blow my own trumpet or anything, but I’m fucking fantastic at what I do. The only way to appreciate my fine attention to detail, and my deft brush strokes is to compare my work, with those that went before me. Most of the time, other peoples work looks like its been commissioned by a chimpanzee, or worse, someone with cerebral palsy. Except for Jimmy, and sometimes Alan, they’re alright I guess, but they aren’t “bona fided” professionals like me. But….
The only comment I’ve had so far, from the public at large, is from some Texan who emailed Wayne (the dude that does all the online shit at work) about one of my Tigers. He said - and he was right - that the turret hatch was positioned wrong. He didn’t say ‘fuck my wetback, how did that new painter of yours do that three colour camo so well, and what’s with the extreme level of detail?’. Nosiree, he just had to point out my level of incompetence whereas differing Ausf’s (that’s German for mark) had differing hatches. When I demanded Wayne give me this fatarselumpofshitgoodfornothingnomatesgirlfriendlesscocksucker’s email addy, he told me that it wasn’t a good idea to email customers telling them ‘to get a fucking life, and pay more attention to the finer things in life, and don’t fucking vote for Bush’. I guess he had a point. I can be rather vitriolic…that’s also why I shouldn’t go out on the piss in town, and should stay at home.
But staying at home is dull, and when I’m there, I feel like I should do more work, which is good and bad. I have too much to do you see. Not only have I got a quota of sorts for the company, I have two army’s to paint for other people. One for my new boss at that…. and he’s expecting stuff in a certain time. That’s poo’s.
I’m going to go do some more research now, so I don’t get more yanks emailing about what I did wrong. Research eats at my time terribly. For instance, I spent roughly 4 hours looking up British jeeps the other night, to make sure what handed drive they were. Imagine if I made them right handed, and in fact they were still all left handed (as they are yank made). I’d be laughed out of town I would. I’m pretty sure they are left hand drive though, but I bet there were 15 that weren’t, and this will be pointed out to me by some well meaning rivet head.
Off to look at ‘Kurskian’ Tigers now, and to make sure I know where the hatch has to be placed. Texan prick.