At some point last week, something slotted into the right hole somehow and my perpetual efforts at securing a regular pay cheque started to bear strange fruit. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, I try not to question the fickle finger of fortune or the capricious cock of karma – I just take my lucky breaks where I can get ‘em. So, I've got to the interview stage of the game, and I have a feeling I'll be back in the Working World again by next week. We shall see.
Nevertheless, instead of burning up phone lines, I’m now running around to a selection of the most unusual places trying to dazzle prospective employers with my charm, wit, poise and a selection of my PG-rated party tricks. Just hook me up with a hypodermic needle, a handful of baby tomatoes and a bottle of cheap vodka. It slays ‘em every time. Sho nuff.
Anyway, I can’t get into all that now. Just wanted to point you in the direction of this - Definitive evidence that proofreading saves embarrassment.
2 comments:
And you aren't embarrassed to have written `capricious cock of karma'?
YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER.
Never! Embarrassment is for MORTALS!! My daughter is quite taken with my unique wordsmithery...
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