Comrade, quit posting that picture of yourself when you were head of the Sheep Herder's Union 
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what would be your ideal job (and don't say NOTHING!)?
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Comrade Shampanyov, Gentleman wrote:
Shed Peel wrote:
Comrade Shampanyov, Gentleman wrote:
Taboo # 7 wrote: HAridresser to the stars.
Oh dear.
you know, seeing some stars in mullets might be an improvement for them...
hahaha..
Trev is the man for mullets!
I'd like to be a hairdresser...or two. I'd like to be two hairdressers - Barry Wom :p
Taboo # 7 wrote: I'd like to be a hairdresser...or two. I'd like to be two hairdressers - Barry Wom :p
If I could get paid for writing stuff like this, I'd be happy 
(or in a mental institution, one of the two 
)
POTBOILER DADA
There were five of them, which was two more than I expected. After all, when you're told to meet three men down by the docks at midnight, you don't anticipate any added members to the entourage. Or maybe you should just get out of the whole "meeting people after dark in a deserted area" business altogether.
Frankie the Fish, who looked like a lamb, was the leader of this group. The Group, as they were called, ran New York's dockyards from their perch in an abandoned baby food factory in New Jersey. This meant endless headaches for the Group, as they couldn't concievably oversee the docks from such a distant location. Plus, the smell of refried peas proved too much for Frankie's bodyguard Joey Stamps (so called because he collected coins). So they'd been making waves in downtown Mahattan to take over some territory more geographically advantageous to their operations. What this all had to do with me, I'll explain.
It all began with a dame. Dame Judi Dench, to be exact. I was in town to watch "Mrs. Henderson Presents" with my secretary Mrs. Hastings, who had a lot to deal with lately and need a release. Her grandfather, who had been the site of an epic 1066 battle for the English crown, came to the States hoping for a better life for his children, but he never had any. Nevertheless, Mrs. Hastings married a Swedish massuse named Horowitz, who was cheating on her with the Lower East Side. I had to do something for the poor woman, I mean just look at her! She was distraught, so I thought a good war movie would lighten the mood. Boy, was I wrong.
I wasn't Wong, however. Theodore "Teddy" Wong, to be exact, the man from whose building Frankie and his gang wanted to control the docks. And as it turned out, he wasn't too thrilled with the idea, but I think it's safe to guess he wasn't thrilled with the prospect of being thrown from the top of his building, either. Frankie, being a fair and gentle man, decided to let Wong off with a gentle bump off from the third floor, but Needleman's Ironic Circumstances Inc. had just set up shop with a bed of steel nails next door. Witnesses at the scene stated to the cops that Wong babbled on about some Jewish carpenter who died 2,000 years earlier, though others swore he was bitching about Hershel Gushvitz, "The Tri-State's Only Jewish Carpenter!"
So when Mr. Wong's widow came through the window of my office, I was intrigued. My office was thirteen stories up, and I was amazed that she would go to all that trouble. As it turned out, she had no opposable thumbs, and was self-conscious about her inability to turn door knobs. I allowed her to defecate on my desk just to get into a relaxed mood, then asked her where it hurt. She indicated her chest, meaning her heart. The poor creature was devestated, and right then and there I told Trixie to hold all my calls for the day. Trixie was the showgirl I'd come home with and forgot to kick out one night, and now she screened my calls in exchange for not telling my wife. I had forgotten at this point to mention that I was no longer married to Mrs. Hastings, we were just good friends.
I took the case immediately, but it seemed pretty open and shut. Mr. Wong's casket, that is, at the funeral two days later. Mrs. Wong's friends from the zoo were incorrigable, and the NYFD had to hose down a collection of mourners who couldn't control their bowels from grief. This did little to aid my case, so after getting the phone numbers of several of Mrs. Wong's more attractive friends I set out for the crime scene. I was met there by Sgt. Pepper, no relation to the Beatles album, who was actually a Beethoven fan. He was whistling the Ninth Symphony when I came riding up on my tandem bike. Cabs were at a standstill in the city, and I needed the incintive to settle down, move to the suburbs, finally call Jennie Harrison from high school, inquire about her new life as "Reginald Gordon", and drink more. But for the time being, I had a case to solve.
The case had been solved, and now I needed to just sit on my ass until Mrs. Wong's check cleared. Sgt. Pepper, with the aid of the NYPD's Orchestral Crimes division, treated me to the Moonlight Sonata, but something didn't feel right. Either it was the fact that Frankie the Fish was somewhere in hiding, or the second violinist was clearly just a recipient of nepotism. I hustled over to the office in time to recieve a call from Frankie himself, asking to meet me at the docks. He'd read about me in the paper, and was jealous. He always took it sourly when the Times dared to run pieces about people other than himself or his associates, and several times he'd dug up the graves of people in the obituary section just so he'd be mentioned the next day, in the "grave vandalism" section. Frankie was sensitve, artistic, but a man's man.
His men that night, in addition to Joey Stamps (the coin collecter), were Harold Neumier (the "Italian Stallion"), Teddy Bananno ("Shreveport's Answer to New Orleans"), Frankie Junior (aged nine months), and Frankie himself. I'd begun that last sentence before remembering that there were only five people there besides myself. Who am I? I'm Dick Hardcastle, private eye, ladies' man, jack of all trades. I had a tough childhood in the Navy, my father was in charge of many seaman.
Semen was required in order for a man to impregnate a woman, and Frankie had plenty of that in spades. His boy, however, looked an awful lot like Joey Stamps (the coin collector), and I thought I'd point this out in a clever ruse to turn the hoods on each other. But just my luck, they were wearing fedoras that night.
Fedoras were a particular brand of hats associated with our time period, which might be the late Forties if not for the contemporary mention of Judi Dench. But the joke was worth it, so let's just keep on.
Um, wait...what was I saying about this story?
Great moniker now Jeff......
Haven't really thought about this, truth be told, I'm one who actually likes their job. I'll come back later to this one.
A Depeche Mode or Recoil roadie
But, in all seriousness, a music journalist. The internship I managed to get makes me somewhat closer - I'll be writing press releases and reviews for a small record company in Boston - but it's unpaid work. My paying job right now is a telefundraiser. Please don't hang up on me.
This blue-eyed boy that wants to be wrote: My paying job right now is a telefundraiser. Please don't hang up on me.
No wonder you happen to be so frustrated here. You must sublimate the insanity of your job one way or another.
Sadly in my young age I still don't know, otherwise I'd be there.
I believe I'd love a job that require a lot of travelling around the world.
I also fancy being a comedian or quite opposite a tragic actor in the theater or on TV.
Own my own record shop. Been a manager, liked it well enough. Wouldn't be much use on the money side of things as I don't have any real substantial interest in adding and subtracting. Much more suited to recommendations, storytelling and gabbing for hours about nonsense. This job is interchangable with "music historian". 
My brilliant idea would be on-the-fly record-to-cd conversions and instant song downloads to fill up mp3 players and the like. There'd be a flat fee for it to cover the whatever that record companies would want for their cut, but overall seems like it's touching on the future. Who doesn't like to be able to just walk in somewhere and get people to do everything for them?
melly wrote: the future. Who doesn't like to be able to just walk in somewhere and get people to do everything for them?
They'll screw it. Instead BM 83 they'll download 88.
melly wrote: Own my own record shop. Been a manager, liked it well enough. Wouldn't be much use on the money side of things as I don't have any real substantial interest in adding and subtracting. Much more suited to recommendations, storytelling and gabbing for hours about nonsense. This job is interchangable with "music historian".
My brilliant idea would be on-the-fly record-to-cd conversions and instant song downloads to fill up mp3 players and the like. There'd be a flat fee for it to cover the whatever that record companies would want for their cut, but overall seems like it's touching on the future. Who doesn't like to be able to just walk in somewhere and get people to do everything for them?
we should start a place called noo-beat
melly wrote: Own my own record shop. Been a manager, liked it well enough. Wouldn't be much use on the money side of things as I don't have any real substantial interest in adding and subtracting. Much more suited to recommendations, storytelling and gabbing for hours about nonsense. This job is interchangable with "music historian".
My brilliant idea would be on-the-fly record-to-cd conversions and instant song downloads to fill up mp3 players and the like. There'd be a flat fee for it to cover the whatever that record companies would want for their cut, but overall seems like it's touching on the future. Who doesn't like to be able to just walk in somewhere and get people to do everything for them?
as a former record store employee-god it was fun. To work a lot but also at times be paid to just bullshit!!!
and yeah I'd work at your record store if u'd have me
Grateful Shed wrote:
melly wrote: Own my own record shop. Been a manager, liked it well enough. Wouldn't be much use on the money side of things as I don't have any real substantial interest in adding and subtracting. Much more suited to recommendations, storytelling and gabbing for hours about nonsense. This job is interchangable with "music historian".
My brilliant idea would be on-the-fly record-to-cd conversions and instant song downloads to fill up mp3 players and the like. There'd be a flat fee for it to cover the whatever that record companies would want for their cut, but overall seems like it's touching on the future. Who doesn't like to be able to just walk in somewhere and get people to do everything for them?
as a former record store employee-god it was fun. To work a lot but also at times be paid to just bullshit!!!
and yeah I'd work at your record store if u'd have me
I did work in a record store, too. I must admit it was great, though money was poor.
|| | ||| 6217|| 8 || 3 wrote:
Grateful Shed wrote:
melly wrote: Own my own record shop. Been a manager, liked it well enough. Wouldn't be much use on the money side of things as I don't have any real substantial interest in adding and subtracting. Much more suited to recommendations, storytelling and gabbing for hours about nonsense. This job is interchangable with "music historian".
My brilliant idea would be on-the-fly record-to-cd conversions and instant song downloads to fill up mp3 players and the like. There'd be a flat fee for it to cover the whatever that record companies would want for their cut, but overall seems like it's touching on the future. Who doesn't like to be able to just walk in somewhere and get people to do everything for them?
as a former record store employee-god it was fun. To work a lot but also at times be paid to just bullshit!!!
and yeah I'd work at your record store if u'd have me
I did work in a record store, too. I must admit it was great, though money was poor.
oh Yeah!! I forgot that part! But I was able to wear my ear rings....People asked if we were like "Empire Records" I told em no we actually got work done....
Practically speaking, I'd like to be a bona fide librarian someday.
Otherwise, I'd like to be a record producer or band member/performer on the ondes Martenot!
Start my ideal job in September so i'm very lucky, I have always wanted to be a secondary school teacher but left school with the minimum qualifications. Three years of god damn hard work seem to have paid off. One very happy lady 
sex toy tester & film critic & restaurant critic - just a little shallow at the moment, but as they say, look after the basic needs and all that..........
I'm pretty happy teaching at the moment, but longer term, I'd love to do some post-grad studis and lecture at a University...
SHEDi xxx
Parrot Trainer Chocolate Tester Beer Tester Bed Tester Wine Taster NOOL Moderator Footballers Wife
Richie Soans wrote:
Rian wrote: a pornstar
same with me
You'll need to pass the "5 Wet Towels" test first.
Touched wrote: School teacher... so I can give kids loads and loads of homework! Mwahaha!
just remember...you have to grade it!
