I have heard repeated complaints from software project managers that personnel screens out rsums of experienced applicants whom the managers would have liked to interview.
"Every morning I would hear him repeating things over and over into the computer, and you could hear him getting better," said Mr. Thankachan's wife, Betsy J. Briju, a visiting assistant professor in plant biology.
You'd hear 'my pleasure' repeated everywhere you went in the hotel because that was part of the script.
"What breed is that?" he repeated, this time making sure that she would hear him.
Intermittently, they would hear a prompt to "recall," at which point, they'd have to repeat back all the words they'd heard since the last prompt.
I'd hear some idiotic nostrum repeated for the millionth time and sigh, but sighing was as far as it went.
From the agent who played a Jack Johnson CD in the office every single weekend, every single day, on repeat – I'd hear "Brushfire Fairytales" over and over, for nine hours straight, like some chill vibes Guantanamo – to the guy who paid me with a blood-splattered, rolled up £50 note that my local pub refused to take, probably because it was too much of a 90s cliché.
On my recent visit, I learned that, contrary to what I'd heard and read and repeated, Provino Mosca was never Al Capone's chef.
(The Moscas pronounce it with a long "o," as in "Joe," while everyone in New Orleans has always pronounced the first syllable to rhyme with "ma" or "pa"). On my recent visit, I learned that, contrary to what I'd heard and read and repeated, Provino Mosca was never Al Capone's chef.
