Web Site Developer! That’s what I am today.  Although I’m not sure it rates as a “proper job” for the Bufton Tuftons who ring Any Answers asking exactly what a Liaison Officer does  etc. “Arf! Arf!” Those people still think there are millions of manly jobs in heavy industry. Sorry, old boy. I’ve got bad news for you. We’re all fucked. Anyway, at least the savage cuts are working. We have growth of 0.0000008%, which is down 200% on the last growth reading which was taken on England’s opening game of the World Cup and included lager sales. But it’s not as bad as they thought.  Oh no. It’s far far worse.

One of the many advantages of being a writer is that you can stay in one place for hours on end until you need dusting. You also go blue. But to restore circulation, I have a strict regime of walking to the post box even if I have nothing to post. I also mimic the antics of the birds on the bird feeder. No one can see me, and it’s good for my self-esteem. Imagine what the bossiest blue tit could do with the confidence if it actually did manage to rid the world of its competitors. Fuck Sir Alan Shitter with a red hot barge pole if it was me.

At some point I have to climb in the loft to see if the wasps have died and left their home in that order. I don’t know how they do it. One thing putting me off is that a downlight has been knocked sideways up there so the beam of light goes sideways. What kind of beast could do that? And why’s it so quiet?