In the fridge

I had to take this shot. I opened the fridge at work and was greeted by a selection of sauces and salad stuff. How odd. I rarely see a fridge with anything other than beer in it. Out of interest how many different tubes of sauce does one workplace really need?

I'm a but worried about the creamy coloured one in the door. It has a concerning consistency. It has bits in it. Bits in sauce are never good.

The Apprentice - one has signed a confidentiality thing, so one cannot say too much. One wouldn't have any news to report anyway.

In other news I gave my living room a proper hammering yesterday. I even ran that odd spider catching machine called a 'vacuum' over the carpet as well. It got all the little bits up and made the place look really nice. Who'd have known a weapon in the fight against eight legged bastards would have such beneficial side effects? More people should know about this.

This was prompted because the other night I was sat on my sofa and I heard a loud crack and saw my curtains move. I was fairly sure at that point that a bogeyman was coming to get me, so I did exactly what any self respecting paranoid android would do late at night: went to bed.

In the morning I discovered my curtain rail had come down. I'm not surprised really, I did make a right hash of putting it up. I'm not one of these practical souls, I'm a thinking man rather than a hands on man. I philosophise and ponder rather than hammer and saw. I've got it back up now, but if I'm honest I don't think it'll last long. The holes in my wall are significantly bigger than the screws, they are only about 1/2 inch deep before they hit steel lintel. I jammed four or five nails into some of the screws to try and wedge it tight. That didn't work so I tried filling the gaping holes with some 'Sticks Like Shit'. It began to ooze out the holes like I'd imagine it's namesake oozes out of a tramps trousers. My curtain rail is up, but if I were to rate its stabilty on a sliding scale I'd say it's more Lindsay Lohan than Michelle Obama.

Gizza job. Anything really, preferably not carpentry though. I do have to look for fresh employment sadly. I haven't fully furnished you with the details but I can reveal that the fridge full of sauce will not be accessible to me come the end of August. So if anyone wants a witty, slightly rugged young man with piercing eyes and a penchant for the dramatic, drop me a line.

By wants I don't mean I'm selling myself for sex or anything. I mean in an employed sense, like to do a proper job.