Graduation

Don't panic. I realise that including information on graduation and
beyond in student guide may confuse people, since it would appear that
this entire work is dedicated to the goal of ensuring that you remain a
student for as long as possible and thereby retain access to cheap
beer. Unfortunately, as has been pointed out elsewhere, this is in fact
the real reason you became a student.

If you've done it all correctly (from the viewpoint of your parents and
the authorities of your establishment), then you should by now have
progressed through the further education machine and emerged at the far
end with a shiny new qualification clutched tightly in one paw. If
you've done it all correctly from the viewpoint of this book then you
should have progressed through the further education machine and
emerged at the far end with a shiny new degree clutched in one paw,
only you'll have made some good friends, had some good times and
(possibly) had some good friends into the bargain.

If you've done it all correctly from the viewpoint of the Author then
you'll have progressed very slowly through the further education
machine and emerged at the far end, slightly grubby and unshaven,
squinting behind your shades and wondering why it's so bright out here,
with a dog-eared and curry-stained Third Class degree clutched in one
shaking paw.

Upon graduation, the large proportion of (ex) students feel somewhat
naked and vulnerable, regarding the vista of the Real World spread out
before them with no small amount of trepidation. The minority (who read
these articles) regard the aforementioned vista with the kind of
expression more normally seen on Great White sharks as they observe an
unprotected toddlers and infants offshore swimming class.

In theory, riches, fame and adulation beckon since the first massive
multinational corporation that you encounter will take one awestruck
glance at your Pass grade degree in advanced basket weaving and
immediately make you managing director.

Errrm . . . no.

In actual fact it is a nasty place out in the real world. Possessing a
degree no longer guarantees you instant highly-paid employment with
lots of casual sex thrown in (to be fair. Now that you've been removed
from the protective womb of the student environment (such as it was)
people who previously seemed to be quite nice to you, in that they
didn't automatically punch you on sight, may well start doing just
that.

If you thought that your bank manager was a tad on the unpleasant side
when you were studying - duck. You are about to find out precisely why
part of the entrance requirements for bank managership is the
propensity to act like a bloodsucking leech of dubious morals at the
drop of a hat. While you were studying, all they had to do was
basically prevent you from running up the kind of debt that a major
drug cartel would be proud of: now that you are no longer in possession
of student status they can cheerfully go about the business of charging
you absurd amounts of money on the overdraft that you thoughtfully ran
up when it was free.

The problem that faces you therefore is, to paraphrase General George
Armstrong Custer: 'What The Hell Do I Do Now?'

Your options reduce to two:

1) Carry on being a student.

2) Don't.

If you decide that (1) is the one for you, then we suggest you start
investigating PhD courses, going for the Master's degree that Ma and Pa
always thought you would, or start thinking about getting a teaching
qualification. Failing that, obtain a list of courses available, a
blindfold and a set of darts (or crossbow for the more homicidally
inclined amongst you) and use these items in the generally approved
fashion to pick another course. Apply for it, get accepted and then go
back to part one of this book all over again . . .

If you go for option (2), then (unless you are obscenely wealthy) you
are going to have to get a job. I am not going to attempt to give you
any help in obtaining gainful employment, since I'm not even remotely
qualified to speak on that subject. (I'm still trying, after three
months, to think of something funny to write in the 'Sex?' box of my
first application form.)

So, instead, I offer a textbook-perfect method of how I reckon you
ought to be able to get a job. Read it carefully and then do the exact
opposite and you'll probably be okay.

First off, decide what you want to do

It is crucially important to realise at this point that your choice of
career should in no way be governed by your course, your
qualifications, or any natural aptitude for the task that you may
possess. Down that route lies madness. Instead, peruse the jobs adverts
and aim for something that pays a startlingly large amount of money in
exchange for very little effort on your part. Then you can go about the
process of securing the job, safe in the knowledge that such minor
technicalities as not being qualified for it and possessing zero
working knowledge as to what the job entails can be dealt with at a
later date.

Having done this, apply

This normally entails writing to the prospective employers, or giving
them a ring and getting them to send you an application form. You then
fill this in and send it back to them. (If necessary, get a grown-up to
help you.) Once you have got to the 'Filling in the application form'
part of the proceedings, firmly resist the temptation to tell the truth
in all but selected areas. It's probably counterproductive to give a
false name and address at this stage, for example. In all other
matters, lie. Wildly exaggerate your qualifications: with a few bold
flourishes of your biro your single E-grade CSE in raffiawork can
become a degree with pots of A-levels and so forth preceding it. Make
yourself out to be near-Godlike in your abilities. A good idea would be
to do about a gram of coke before filling in the form, as you will feel
invincible and omnipotent, which is what we're trying for here. Even if
the prospective employer doesn't believe a word of it, they'll be so
impressed that you had the balls to try it on that they're bound to
call you for an interview.

The Interview

This is where you really get to shine. Preparation is vital: discover
as much about the company as you can, for example the name, address and
a signed statement from the managing director's mistress together with
photographic evidence can be a powerful bargaining tool. The ability to
casually let slip that you know the present whereabouts of Jimmy the
Weasel, the professional arsonist that they hired to help them with a
small insurance claim on that warehouse full of unshiftable stock,
should not be underestimated.

Dress correctly for the occasion. Avoid suits and ties, unless they are
either enormously expensive and immaculately tailored, or crumpled and
curry-stained. Jeans and a T-shirt are fine. A barbed wire basque and
leopard skin-style Lurex posing pouch is probably going too far,
though. Project an aura of boredom and condescension: the attitude you
are trying to embody should be that of 'Oh God, get on with it, you
odious little man. Don't you realise that I have far better things to
do that be interviewed by a worm like you for a position with your
two-bit outfit?' Yawn occasionally. Glance at your watch frequently and
stare at the ceiling or out of the window when they attempt to tell you
what it is the company does and how it operates. Whistling is optional.
Having sex with the interviewer's personal assistant when they bring
refreshments should be avoided, however, as it can bias the interviewer
against you. Basically, make it clear to them that they would be
obviously insane to try and continue running the company without you,
that you are very busy and are only attending this interview out of the
charity of your heart.

These tactics should get you past the first interview.

The Second Interview

This is normally conducted by a more senior official and this is where
your carefully-collected blackmail material should be applied:
artfully, of course. Simply stating that you have them by the short and
curlies is bad, since it does not allow them a face-saving escape
route. Better by far to delicately work the conversation round to the
fact that not only do you know that the person with whom you are
chatting has a penchant for being chased round the bedroom of their
(tax-deductible) penthouse romp-pad, whilst dressed as a chicken with a
feather duster jammed in their bum by an enormous gentlemen called
Bubba with a MaxiVibroDong brand marital aid in his hand, but that also
(a) you have photographs to prove it, (b) you know the address of the
interviewer's wife and (c) you now for a fact that both the rent on the
apartment and Bubba's fees appear on the balance sheet as a bogus
purchase order for one million paperclips. You are trying to impress
upon them the point that not only are you a devious bastard of the
highest calibre and therefore ideally suited for a management post, but
also that you can be sufficiently discreet to ensure the interviewer's
continued access to his chicken costume.

If you follow these simple guidelines, the average half-way intelligent
graduate possessed of absolutely no scruples and a small amount of
skill in the breaking and entering department can be the sole director
of a huge multinational conglomerate in under a year.

Falling Onion Nightmare Career Advancement Services cannot, alas, be
held responsible for any prison terms or legal fees incurred whilst
using our methods.

So what else do you have to look forward to after graduation? Not much
really. Other than buying your first suit, getting your first job,
getting settled away from university, realising all your friends are
getting married, getting married yourself, having babies and eventually
dying' But we will offer one final piece of advice 'for the
road'.

When you move into your first non-student flat, you may decide that you
can no longer cope with living in a student hovel. Graduate starting
salaries won't allow you to rent much better, especially if you're
based in London, so you may be tempted to decorate. Be wary: this is
not as easy as it sounds. (Ask the landlord for starters. People have
been known to decorate then get billed by the landlord for 'damage'.)
Don't be fooled by the paint ads on telly, which depict inept bunglers
producing interior decoration second only to the Sistine Chapel in a
matter of minutes. This is not the case.

Decoration can be dangerous, as we found out to our cost. The whole
sequence of events was over in milliseconds, but thanks to the wonders
of modern technology our technical boffins have managed to recreate
things as sound effects. So close your eyes and think in stereo. It
went a bit like this:

WhirrrrrrrrZAP! CRASH thudthudthud SCREEECH Splutch (gdunk gdunk)
neenarneenarneenar . . . 'Bloody hell, he's awake.'

Which equates roughly to Joe drilling into the wall with an ancient
power drill, drilling into the power cable supplying the stereo, flying
across the room, exiting via the front window, bouncing off two parked
cars and landing in the middle of the road, heavy braking, getting hit
by a passing truck, both sets of wheels going over his head, the
ambulance ride and the surgeon's amazed comment when he opened his
eyes.

Decoration. Don't think you can handle it. Get the experts in.

And that about wraps things up. On behalf of Falling Onion Nightmare
Productions, inc. Joe and Phil would like to thank you for flying with
us and hope you will again . . .

We hope that you've enjoyed reading this book, that you've laughed
occasionally during the process, that you found some of the stuff in it
vaguely useful and that you don't blame us for any injuries sustained
whilst trying out some of the trickier positions. Far more importantly,
regardless of where you are in your studies, we hope you thoroughly
enjoy your time and have a lot of laughs. We also hope that you get
better degrees than we did, since you won't have to resort to writing
books like this to make a living. Being a student is an experience, not
just an education. Make it a good one.

Oh and make ours a pint.

Cheers.