You know, it's disappointing. I write a lot of stuff here. I know nobody reads everything. We all have busy lives. This is a forum that attracts some real workaholics. Addicted to workahol. There just aren't enough hours in the day to read every message about every bowel movement of some guy on the internet.

But how many times must I have written about my job?

Yes, I never expressly use my job title but that's because I don't want to end up in some Google search result. But don't we all know what it is that I'm doing for a living? Haven't I said many times how the job is going away? Haven't I mentioned how the job was eliminated in the courts in England? Haven't I mentioned how my previous employers have all gone out of business? Haven't I mentioned that many of my previous co-workers are doing other types of work now and/or potentially killed themselves? Haven't I mentioned that I'm the only person in the whole of Scotland doing this job? Haven't I mentioned that the job has been eliminated to such an extent that my services are only required in limited number of court actions and I don't even understand why they're required for those particlar court actions?

I must have mentioned these things a dozen times at least.

And yet here's Rory with a one sentence question totally bamboozled as to this statement that my job is ending soon. You might think, "Rory? Sounds like an Irish guy. I've never seen him on the forums. Give him a break, you jerk."

In fact, Rory is a rather louche woman who has been on this forum for almost as long as I have.

She called me once. I can almost tell you the year because I remember where I was when I got the phone call. It's like when traumatic things happen, you can still remember small details years or decades later. I was living in that flat in Kingsbury with the Australian guy and his German wife and the Polish guy and the South African couple. This was the last shared flat that I had. So...we're talking...maybe ten years ago.

So my phone rings. She got the number because that fat lunatic who sucked Simon Price's three inch member posted my CV. Whatever her name was. Anyway, I wasn't expecting a phone call so I thought it would be a telemarketer or PPI scam or something. I reluctantly answer and it's somebody speaking some completely undeciperable gibberish. I didn't even engage in conversation. The only words I understood were "phone box".

I mean, think about the phone manners that such a person must have. They don't say "hello", they don't introduce themselves, they just launch straight into gibberish about a phone box, as though I have the slightest idea what they're talking about.

I absolutely hate using the phone but it's a skill that I've slowly become better at. As I said, you have to first say "hello" and then introduce yourself, and only then do you launch into whatever it is that you're calling about. You also have to speak clearly. This is particularly important over the telephone because you can't see the person. When you can look at the person, you can sort of read lips and it makes things easier. So with telephone communication, you really have to make an effort to speak clearly.

So that was that. She also had a website as an adolescent. This must have been 15 years ago. So actually, she was calling me not long after adolescence. How old must she have been? She's 30 now. So I guess she was 20 when she was calling me. That's hot. I definitely would have went for that. Too bad I couldn't understand a word she was saying.

Anyway, the website had like a blog on it. This was before blogs existed, bear in mind. But she would update the website every so often, I guess talking about stuff that she was doing or ruminations about life or whatever. I can't remember anything specific but there was definitely like an online journal thing going on. And she had a picture of her on a swing in a park or something.

You know, when you're 15 you're still young enough to look back and sort of lament the loss of your childhood. I remember being that age and thinking about how it was only a few years ago that I'd go to the park with my mother and play on the swings but those days are over. I'll never go to the park with my mother and play on the swings again.

So that's what that picture reminded me of. And of course, you see adolescents still hanging around the swings and whatnot at your local park. They're doing it sort of "ironically" but it's a way to sort of hang on to one's childhood. "I'll go to the swings one last time because I know one day soon, it will no longer be socially acceptable."

I remember being 15 and lying in bed crying about this. But that's just life. You get older, things change. That's why it's important for parents to do their best to cherish the moments that you have with your children and make the most of it. And it's just good advice generally to live in the moment and make the most out of life.

And then yeah, maybe two years ago I got an email from this Rory woman. Let me see if I can find it so I can get the date. How am I going to possibly find this? I'll do a search for "louche". Nothing. "Tinder." Oh yeah. Her name is Sara.

Oh, no. It was three years ago. Yeah, this was when the forum went down and this Sara woman had predicted it. She wrote a message saying something like, "What if the forum went away and we could never speak to each other again" and then shortly after that, the forum was terminated. Then I was able to re-register the forum, which is weird, and I got control over the forum.

She has a sister.

Hey, I actually suggested that we meet up and she said that she's up for that. I was living in London at the time. She lives somewhere in Wales. I don't know where. But then she wanted to see a picture, purportedly to help me on Tinder, but she stopped replying to emails after I sent her a picture of me on the Underground.

So I got angry with that and just decided, fuck this dumb bitch and ever since, I've just ignored the one sentence posts that she writes here. You know what I mean? I specifically said that we should meet up not as a date but after she saw the picture she said, "No way, man. This guy isn't even worth a platonic meet up. Hell, he's not even worth replying to an email."

I moved to Scotland shortly after that email exchange. The two things are unrelated, of course. But yeah, I guess I was just looking to hang out with somebody. I was really not liking London by this time. I hated my job. I was yelling at people with increasing frequency on the trains because I just had enough of the pushing and the bullshit.

But yeah, I wasn't looking to do any butt stuff. I don't even remember asking her to meet up, but I clearly did.

But on the subject of butt stuff, she posted a message not long ago about how she's asexual and that's some pretty messed up stuff. It's like that self-professed asexual virgin who I met up with maybe 12 years ago. She was nuttier than the proverbial fruitcake. We should all be thankful for the gift of sanity.