Oh, come on, it totally does
Well, what can I say, the odds of me ending up trapped in a mine in chile for the entire summer were longer than your average dole que, yet, there I was, with only a two-year old copy of Time Out (wordsearch partially completed) for company. What I do know is there’s thirty-three shameless media whores who could learn a thing or two about survival from yours truly. I mean, I didn’t wait for some overpriced suppository to come & save me. No, I had to tunnel my way out solely by the use of my teeth, as the part of my brain that controls motor function shut itself down in protest at my insistence on finding out the secret of Martine McCutcheon’s new beach bod.
Of course, you won’t have heard about all this on the news, I’m kind of cool and low-key like that, but after being nursed back to health by a retired Belgian diplomat and a fourteen year old Phillipino boy, whom I can only assume was his adopted son, I was on the next sail barge back to good old Éire. And I must say, my god, what have you people done with the place?
I must admit, there is certainly a better sense of space around here, as the most subtle invasion in history continues unabated. As you may already be aware, the seconds it takes to check easily obtainable statistics on emigration are seconds I simply cannot spare, so instead, I’m going with a Statistic I overheard in the pub. Apparently, according to a guy with a beard, there have been over 40,000 visa applications in the past however many months he said, visa applications to Australia, I assume. Anyway, niggly details aside, that’s quite a lot, and as there does actually seem to be jobs going out there right now it makes perfect sense.
To be honest I don’t know why anyone would travel to such a god-forsaken place to find a job, I mean, I’m sitting on a white horse eating champagne truffles as I type this, so the whole thing is sort of outside of my comprehension. However, even if I wasn’t an independently wealthy man about town I’d like to think I’d go for the easier smarter option as far as the unemployment crisis is concerned, that being, “hang around until enough people leave and take your pick”.
I’ll level with you, I’m not a mathematician, and, contrary to what my business cards say, I’m not a “science doctor” either. So I’m not sure exactly how many people would have to leave before someone like yourself could walk into something with a company car, 60k a year and a pretty competitive pension plan, but at a guess I’d say another two thousand should do it, give or take.
If you happen to be in the unfortunate and, these days, all too familiar position of facing emigration or the unemployment line, the first piece of advice I would give you is for the love of God, don’t listen to a word I say, the second would be, like, why not Canada? Nicer people, a more earth-like climate, and not to mention almost no things smaller than you that absolutely, positively want nothing more than to kill you in the most excruciating manner possible. Think about it, it makes perfect sense, or at least as much sense as the 500 words that preceded it.
Dedicated to people who aren’t here, but really, really should be.
