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Friday, February 24, 2006

Wanted Bright Boy

I wish to apply for the post of my life, as advertised nowhere, salary nothing. I am the vacancy the position requires. This constitutes my reference for the candidate, who is known to me in a personal capacity. In the interests of fairness I write with eyes averted, stealing a glance through my fingers. My long career behind him, he is ideally placed to have been to the university of your choosing and still excite fond disgust from his contemporaries, to have hated rugby at school and have spent his formative years copiously wetting himself. For being born me, to go no further than birth, the candidate shows willingness, aptitude and experience. He cordially and by way of getting to know you encourages the committee to back the hell off and leave me alone, whoever you think you are. If successful I would approach the job in a spirit of jaded euphoria. Already our working relationship could not be closer. My (his) past is where I see (saw), Marjorie Dawe, my future. I think of this as my final appointment, and am free to start immediately on completion of a lifetime’s notice in my current position, which is to say now, I mean never, I mean I regret to inform you that on this occasion, thank you, that, thank you, I regret to inform you that it is with great pleasure I accept your kind offer.

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