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Schools Out!



That's it for this week as my college course closes because of half term. This is the first time in thrity years that I've been to College. I have to go back next week to finish off my course and again shortly after to finish it off even more.


What course am I studying? Well, it isn't Roman History. It isn't a degree in Dynamic Temporal Physics either., sadly, so I still can't argue with Professor Brian Cox without being put in my place. No, it's Employability Level One, so I'm finally being trained to do all the stuff I've been doing for the last decade. Again. I got that certificate three years ago and no-one noticed so please excuse me if I seem a little underwhelmed by my own scholastic achievement.


Great bunch of people to study with too, some I knew before, some I've gotten to know ion the course. All great fun. Especially now it's practically finished, although the fun bit about breathing life into life size plastic dummies has yet to be held. Ladies, I'm sorrow, but playing dead will no longer work.


Out On The Streets

Swindon's main shopping street is as busy as might be expected this time before the turbo nutter "Oh my God I forgot Aunty Hilda" shopping session as Christmas arrives. However, I have to be honest. part of my Employability course was a team exercise, clearly ripped off from The Apprentice on BBC in an outrageous example of educational plagiarism, to go shopping for interview wear and investigate the best bargains available to us, though thankfully we weren't required to actually purchase anything or the ladies in the team would be still out there, tutting and fussing over small fashion details whilst us blokes lose the will to live. I've got a few more white hairsbut I survived the experience without being fired by Lord Alan Sugar.


Meanwhile the Phantom Pavement Scribbler was at work. Don't know who he is, other than he happens to be unemployed like me but not yet sent on an Employability course, who's been writing poetic dissertations on the reality of Life, The Universe, and the Dole Queue on the pavement in coloured chalk. Well it keeps him off the street, doesn't it?


Apprentices Of The Week

Now that our favourite BBC soap opera is back in its tenth anniversary series with extra contestants for yet more tantrums, petty disasters, and dramatic dismissals, I have to say this is without doubt the worst and least impressive collection of ego's and talentless wannabee's yet collected. So far, on the third week of twelve, each exercise has been won by accident by the least capable team and so the news headlines are now focusing on something more interesting like which Apprentice is bonking another. More tantrums and petty disasters then.


Told you it was a soap opera.