Monday, December 15, 2014

Learning Excel online

Perfect example of an elven king tailor-made for the purpose I describe below: Thranduil from the Hobbit.
It mostly hurts after a while. It feels like someone is repeatedly rubbing half onions on my back. I want to do something else than clicking on boxes, calculating sums and dragging ranges. Like a good girl, I suck it up and sigh. And dream of elven kings with long blond hair, who are so snobbish even dust avoids settling on them, fearing their disapproval. As a way to blow off steam, I dream that I am chasing the aforesaid king on horseback. In a field full of brambles. And he is terrified, on foot and wearing absolutely nothing. And I am holding a flogging stick and hit him for extra encouragement. There's probably a hapless human in there too, and I am sure he or she is the creator of Excel. They are an easy target; sooner or later they will collapse inside a bramble bush, and I'll leave them to find the way out on their own. So the elven king runs for dear life, his testicles dangling about like a meaty pendulum, his penis making a flapping sound against his thighs, his wide back golden pink in colour and full of crisscrossing red welts, his legs covered in scratches, his firm, muscular butt poetry in motion, and I yell like a banshee from the back of my horse. Run, motherfucker, run! Run because when I catch you I'll have a distinguished elven aristocrat for supper and guess what, you'll be the main course! 

If I keep going, I am pretty certain eventually he will stumble and fall. I hope he lands face first on a pile of horse or bear shit. And rest assured I'll jump off the horse and step on his head to make it sink deeper in it.
(What do you mean this is just too cruel? It's a mating ritual. You wouldn't understand. The way these fuckers pose and their behaviour manages to tickle all the wrong anatomical bits of me, unfortunately together with the right ones.) 

The reason my basic hero in that other story (/book/ trilogy/ saga) is a dark elf, is that they usually are stronger, faster, and more vicious than any pure-blooded, arrogant, belonging to a superior race and blessed by the gods elf. And they have absolutely no qualms about punching those arrogant dickbags in the face and bloodying their perfect noses. In fact there's nothing they, or their maker, would enjoy more than that. So I cackle with glee and go back to learning Excel. Maybe one day I'll write that story. Maybe not. Let me finish with what I'm halfway through first, and we'll see about that.

Here is the site I am using to learn Excel, if you feel like torturing yourselves:
And here are some more Thranduil photos in case you want to have a better look. ;)







Tuesday, December 09, 2014

A sincere cover letter



I am trying to write a cover letter to include with my CV. It's one of the most boring activities someone can engage in, with advanced accounting and being whipped to build an Egyptian pyramid being marginally worse. I am tempted to write a sincere cover letter praising my unique and amazing abilities, like being able to discover the petting spots that turn cats into goo, writing good porn with just about any gender and species involved, regularly producing farts of outstanding potency and duration, and being able to make successful divination with a thesaurus. The more I struggle with inane templates of cover letters and the pompous statements they contain, the more facial ticks I develop. So here is a cover letter guaranteed to land you the dream job you were always looking for, or a place in jail and one hell of a reputation.

Dear Sir/ Madam,

I am writing to apply for the position of Exalted Asslicker in your prestigious company of nitwits and attention whores.

I am a unique and highly resourceful individual, managing to stay out of jail although I can't pay any of my bills due to the current political situation. I am a fast learner, competent in bullshitting or threatening to have it my way, and adaptable to any situation, including zombie apocalypse. In my last job we were adequately trained in shooting the delivery boy and one of the accountants if they were late. I can cope with a vast range of administrative tasks while balancing a waffle with ice-cream on my left ear and juggling with living piranha. I am fully capable of prioritizing my workload, putting porn and masturbation on top and leaving office work for the clerk I am blackmailing with photos of his current affair. I am motivated by cocaine and fueled by speed, have a gangster attitude and love learning new skills, like ritualistic sacrifice, taxidermy and shibari (Japanese bondage). My communication skills are excellent; everyone does as I say or find themselves swimming in the nearest large body of water wearing cement shoes. I can fulfill a variety of roles due to my numerous interpersonal skills. I prefer Dominatrix, but I also double as a bodyguard and negotiations expert, because my plasma cannon is way bigger than yours.

I believe that every problem is unique and needs to be handled as such, applying both past experience and new ideas to tackle it successfully. I am in constant contact with hit men of different nationalities and most mafia organizations. I am also discreet with personal information and can handle a range of possible situations, from blackmail to murder.

I am well versed in the use of the written word in a variety of subjects and occasions, from ransom notes to political manifestos. I am fully capable of adapting to given guidelines and improvising according to circumstance and need, moderately good at wording contract loopholes and fully proficient in forging. I am also highly skilled in planning, customer communication, and handling all the different tasks and challenges of a busy office environment, such as hidden landmines, possessed managers and drug addicted CEOs. I am keen on meeting with new challenges and expanding my professional horizons with a reputable company like yours. I believe that I will prove myself to be a valuable asset to your team, or I will make sure there isn't a hole deep enough to save yourselves from my wrath if you don't hire me. 

In my free time I am an astrophysicist and a neurosurgeon. I love recreational drugs and occasionally run the gatherings of the local Freemasonry organisation, including minute taking of their plans to take over the world with the assistance of Pinky and the Brain. 

I’m looking forward to learning more about this position and what it entails. I would greatly appreciate the opportunity of speaking with you at your earliest convenience, via e-mail or phone. Thank you for your time and consideration. And psssst, nudge nudge. If you hire me, the girls for stress alleviation and the office cleaners are on me.

Sincerely and/or not bothering much,

Elizabeth Armpit.

Saturday, December 06, 2014

Many letters to write, and one.


I have several letters to write and I am too busy to sit on my arse and do so. However, there is one letter I want to write more than others, and it is the one letter that the receiver will never be given. It's a very long catalogue of swearwords and things I have been meaning to say to that person for years now. I have never told them because even if I did, they would get hurt and not understand a thing. They live inside their own head and love to play games. The games they play are preferable than their real life, which sucks. I play games inside my head too; it feels nice to be queen of the universe for a while, even if that universe is solely inside my imagination. But I feel the desperate need to get it off my chest and will do so. I will do so in my diary, because I don't want to say it in public, in case they stumble upon it and then freak out. You see, contrary to them, I do consider the kind of impact my actions might have on other people. I am not beyond it. I am not too busy being Sorcerer Supreme or the Left Testicle of Odin to bother with reality or other people's feelings. 'Nuff said on that.

Generally speaking, it helps to write letters to people telling them everything you never said, even if you do not intend to give those letters. I am serious. You can do it even if you are not on speaking terms with them, or they aren't alive. What really matters is the inner cleansing that follows a proper vent. Get it off your chest, my darlings, and don't be afraid to write anything you damn please. Then you can burn the letter and complete the cleansing. I do advise burning, not tearing it up. For those of you into paganism, Vesta is the Roman goddess related to purification, and Hecate can also help. Give the ladies a shout. For the rest of you, just set it on fire. Try it and you will see. :)