Yesterday I mentioned
that I'd sexed up the cover letter that I send out with my job
applications, and that I'd launched the thing into the Internet. This
afternoon it seemed to have worked. I had a phone call from a
recruitment agency. We chatted - the chap from the agency was
impressed with me. He liked what I was saying. His only concern was
that what I was saying wasn't conveyed by my C.V. Had I thought of
having my C.V. reviewed by a professional C.V. writer? And before I
knew where I was, the chap was asking how I would like to pay. He can
go whistle.
And so home. Where it was
obvious we'd had a visitor. All the lights were on, the telly was
blaring, there was crockery and half-eaten food as far as the eye
could see, and the floor was awash with dog biscuits. Just as I
started to clear the mess, "Daddies Little Angel TM"
burst through the door, complete with grand-dog Sid. She muttered
something about tidying up, vanished upstairs for ten minutes and
then said she had to go.
I walked up the road with
her, partly to exchange insults with her chauffeur, and partly
because I was going that way anyway. Mid-week is leafleting time; I
had my sights set on Francis Road, and I delivered catalogues to the
masses. Or most of the masses. I didn't bother with houses that had
signs up saying that they don't want circulars. I had an interesting
conversation with one of the residents. Having had one of our
catalogues popped through his door, he stood in his garden and
hollered down the road for me to come back and take the thing away. I
had to stop myself from laughing out loud. The bloke looked just like
Ned Flanders from the Simpsons, was trying to appear suave and
sophisticated, and was coming over as some sort of half-wit. I
politely asked if he didn't want the catalogue. He attempted to look
down his nose at it, but merely looked like he was inspecting his
moustache for fleas. I took the catalogue, and in parting I mentioned
that it was a shame he didn't want to peruse the thing because he
looked like he could use a bargain. I managed to keep a respectful
tone, and I managed not to laugh at him as he began to bluster as I
walked off.
If any of my loyal
readers would like to avail themselves of some serious bargains, you
might look no further than at the top of this blog entry. There's a
box on the right, blue in colour, marked "Stuff for Sale".
I may well be adding to my commercial ventures over the next few
weeks, but there's one or two bargains there to be getting on with
for the time being...
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