Job Search…


He doesn't seem overly busy to me

     As you may have noticed, I have been rather inactive on the diary front of late. I would not really make a Pepys, I fear. (Still with the Great Plague and the Fire of London he certainly had more material to get his teeth into, to be fair.) All I have is the imminent destruction of life as we know it (again,) the global collapse of the money lending system, and deciding whether I need to register myself with the Ministry of Nosiness if I open the door to accept a copy of the Daily Mail from the teenage member of Mr. K.W. Patel’s news-emporium (logistics division.) In fact, dear reader, I have been busying myself with assisting a colleague of mine, young Stefan, whom, as you may recall, had just failed to enter the Guinness Book of World Records with his nearly tragic attempt to pass through the digestive tract of a Sperm Whale unassisted. His latest project has a little more merit to it. Indeed, he aims to employ himself in the greatest number of jobs during a 365-and-a-little-bit day period. So far he has stocked his library up with the complete selection of the Dummy Series, printed out WikiPedia, and had a long conversation with Dr. Brunel on the merits of an unpainted window-drip. I have, of course, been facilitating his endeavour to become the new Renaissance man. I am not sure where this particular lifestyle choice is leading him, but surely even Leonardo didn’t do his own shredding.

     So far, he has turned his hand to the following activities of gainful employment. Web-Site Design; Antique Dealer; Chimney Sweep; Chef (I wish that I could embellish, however, there is the unfortunate matter of a court case); Legal Secretary (though technically, this was working for himself, and was more of a quick job to keep the restaurateur in question happy); Structural Architect; Brain-Surgeon; Lollipop Man (although illegally, not having time to fill in the appropriate JM453/23 Lollipop Awareness Declaration Form); Lawyer (see Lollipop Man); Suffragette (I’m not sure this counts really, but hid did gain some unwanted publicity) and today he’s off to try his hand as an X-ray engineer. I did give him a stern lecture about the perils of Röntgen-ray, but to no avail. I think he’s using one of those phonebook pads, with a dialing gadget at the front. He obviously doesn’t use it for said purpose, as he hasn’t got any friends. Indeed if you ever ring him up, after exactly 73 rings of the Graham Bell, he screams “I’ll show you who’s a pretty boy,” and slams down the receiver. This happens every time. Apart from 3.05 a.m. once when he played Old Man River with a collection of unreturned milk bottles.


I believe transvestite fire-eating is no longer on the itineray

     I do, in a sense, admire him. Obviously this would have to be an extra sense to the normal five that we are all hopefully equipped. If you are disabled (or differently if you like – say it how you want, unless you’re mute,) then, tough break, (oops,) although I must inform you that I have suffer debilitating random memory access to my short to medium term memory. If I think of anything really important, I have to immediately tell someone, whatever they are doing, so that I can ask them later on when I have a pen handy. It’s very annoying. Oh, and my showlaces never seem to stay done up for long. Obviously the Sixth Sense is taken, something to do with seeing ghosts. I am probably using the Seventh Sense. I think that we’re safe there. Bergman had the Seals, but I don’t recall a Sense. Well, getting to the point, if there ever was one. Which makes me think of Jesus turning water into wine. He wouldn’t even get his one cathode-ray show these days. If he’d materialised a HD-Ready widescreen TV with hot dutch action, he’d have got a bit more interest in my book. Wine? You couldn’t move for wine in those days – it was virtually the only thing you could get to cause your brain to malfunction. Anyway, I think it’s a pretty good idea to sample as many jobs as possible; at least you might perchance upon one that you like. Anyway I must go now, I’m reading up on The AntiPope for Dummies.


3 Responses to “Job Search…”

  1. October 7, 2009 at 3:28 pm

    Well I never. Monsieur Dandy has found his typewriter at last. The word hiatus was invented for this Neo Victorian fop AKA Dandy Mills…

    I cannot write too much at this juncture, as I have a small problem in my office. I returned to find chaos abound. For some reason there was barn owl on my desk and someone had filled the entire corner of the office with kettle chips. As you know, there is nothing worse than a full blown kettle chip problem.

    I think I can hear the radio on downstairs. I think it is Carly Simon “You’re so Vain. You probably think this Song is about you”. How apt for the content of today’s missive. Ho hum…

  2. October 13, 2009 at 1:46 pm

    Hello Brick Head

    I thought you might find this early “satnav” amusing:


    I believe Dr Brunel has lent his to Margaret…

  3. 3 The Management
    October 13, 2009 at 2:18 pm

    Dear Dr. Trousers,

    After my accident with the engineering brick, a catapult and a poorly adjusted transmat device, I am sure that I don’t have to explain why the term “Brick head” maketh me smileth not. As for the “link” you sent me, as I am currently using Windows 98, which will only show pages prior to said date. Fortunately I started this page in 1896, otherwise I couldn’t be typing this. QED. BBQ. P&Q. etc etc drone…….. exits stage left pursued by bear.

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Don’t you know what day it is?

October 2009
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