Job No. 80 - Strong Accountant

I began the day in fine fettle, spirits buoyed by my recent return to my old unsuitable job hunting ways, and decided to dig out my employment seeking net and trawl the jobs section of the New York Times for something that thoroughly perked my interest...

And it wasn't long before I stumbled across the deeply attractive role of Pet Stylist; a job that offered the vague promise of securing a foot on a rung of the style guru ladder (some may argue as to the relative positioning of dressing dogs and dressing celebrities on said ladder) while, at the same time, representing an almost entirely unexplored fashion realm. Canine fashion, you see, is very much in its infancy and has, thus far, largely been limited to tartan fleeces and painfully unfashionable rainwear. And, please, don't even get me started on the abominable state of dog footwear.

And this, in the end, was the reason that I didn't apply to be a Pet Stylist today - I'm just not sure that the industry is yet ready for my ground-breaking ideas and my subtle combination of vintage, retro and bleeding-edge styling. I feel it is too much (at this moment in time) for me to take on the role of canine fashion revolutionary - I need, instead, to wait until the world is ready for me.

So, with a slightly heavy heart, I turned instead to a most curious vacancy being offered by the Robert Half company, who were looking for a Strong Accountant. Now I'm not much of an accountant but I figured that, since I'm pretty strong, if I spent the time between application and interview really working out, I could definitely nail the strong part (which would, hopefully, sway them towards the acceptance of my slightly less pronounced accountancy skills).

However, it seems that physical strength was not the only thing on their mind at Robert Half - oh no - as their job description clearly stated that they were looking for "a strong individual with nerves of steel."

Nerves of steel? And then it dawned on me. My God - they were looking for a cyborg! Robert Half wanted to find themselves a bionic accountant...

It all made sense. A bionic accountant would probably have all kinds of computational advantages over a normal human and be far stronger than a purely biological specimen. The odds, it appeared, were firmly stacked against me; but I wasn't about to give up on this vacancy over the little matter of being human:

Dear Sir/Madam

I am writing with regard to the position of Strong Accountant, as advertised within the New York Times.

I believe that I am good condition and am willing to take any tests that you may wish to set in order to gauge this for yourself, although I sincerely hope the fact that I possess peripheral axons does not, in any way, stand against me in the my desire to succeed within this position.

I appreciate that I am likely to be up against some stern (some may even suggest unfair) competition for this vacancy but I hope that you are able to see the advantages gained in utilising an applicant who doesn't have a mechanical approach and who is still fully in touch with his humanity.

Regards

Oliver.

Well, all I can do now is wait. If I don't receive an invitation for an interview, I think we all know the real reason - and the hidden cyborg agenda that lies, flimsily diguised, behind it...

Job No. 79 - Fraud Consultant

I held out as long as I could; tried desperately to leave this whole unsuitable jobs malarkey at number 78 and be done with it. But, in the end, it appears that I just can't keep away...

It started when I saw an advert in the Guardian for a 'Midweight Web Designer', which immediately brought back warm and fuzzy memories of my time struggling to make the grade as a Heavyweight Creative back in 2006 (and my subsequent conversation with the, very helpful, Steve). It made me realise that the job market may have moved on in my absence and that my weight may no longer be such a barrier in securing gainful employment.

However, while I was thoroughly tempted to apply for a job better suited to my slightly more than svelte figure, I stumbled across an altogether more intriguing post being advertised on the very same site that appealed to me on an altogether different level.

Times, it seems, have indeed changed. Back when I was applying for jobs in 2006 and 2007, I was of the feeling that criminal employment was to be looked down upon (with the possible exception of being a pirate). Now, perhaps it is because of the global economic meltdown but it appears that less salubrious agencies have moved into the job market and, keen to move with the times, I must admit they piqued my interest...

Fraud Recruitment Services are looking for a Fraud Consultant, mentioning that "this is a rare opportunity to take the lead fraud consultant role in a vibrant technology company".

They were looking for someone with "extensive and relevant fraud expertise". I am not certain whether failing to mention that you have been given 15 pence too much change when at the till in Sainsburys qualifies as extensive and relevant fraud experience so - to be on the safe side - I listened to Scott Joplin's 'The Entertainer' and watched several episodes of Hustle.

Thus, armed with an up-tempo swing in my step and a desire to put my new found criminal knowledge to active use, I crafted an expert letter that would be certain to convince them that they had, indeed, found the man for their job:

Dear Chris

I am writing with regard to the position of Fraud Consultant, as advertised on the Guardian Jobs website.

I have an extensive knowledge of fraud (whether it be bunko, flim flam or simple grifting) and am fully prepared to put this into service on behalf of your company. I believe that the current economic crisis marks a time when such services are needed more than ever.

I am fully versed in both traditional methodology - for example, the glim-dropper - and more modern electronic methods such as 419 and believe my creative talents could be put to good use in thinking of updates to old standards.

I own a pet Aardvark called Gerald.

Regards

Oliver.

The aardvark line was particularly clever (if I say so myself); after all, they say one of the most important things in executing a con is to ensure that you distract your mark - and I think Chris will be so distracted by that last line that he will totally fail to notice that my CV contains no fraud experience whatsoever...

Aliens are among us...

Well, they are if you believe Luchezar Filipov who is (or perhaps was, until this) deputy head of the Space Exploration department at the Bulgarian Academy of Science, who recently gave a press conference to give an update on how alien contact is doing...

Apparently, the aliens are communicating with Bulgarian scientists through the use of pictograms in crop circles and are 'friendly and willing to help us'.

With that said, the aliens are apparently unhappy with the use of artificial insemination and - in a move perhaps designed to keep the Taliban happy - are also critical of the use of make-up (both get slated for being 'unnatural').

I would officially like to say, I'll have some of whatever Mr Filipov has been smoking...

Give the gift of Chlamydia this Christmas...

Ok, so I stumbled across this company and simply had to blog about it.

You have to admire the demented genius of this - a range of giant-sized, cuddly, soft toy microbes representing some of the world's most feared bacteria and viruses.

The green one on the left is Chlamydia and is part of a set that includes E-coli, H1N1 (Swine Flu to its friends) and MRSA. I can't help but imagine some of the intriguing conversations (and subsequent turkey-based choking) that may be going on at Christmas Dinner tables around the world this year...

Granny: "So, what did Father Christmas give you two for Christmas?"
Little Billy: "He gave me Chlamydia, Granny."
Little Sally: "I wanted him to give me Chlamydia as well but he gave me Syphilis instead..."
Granny: *clutches chest*

But it's not just your common-or-garden viruses and sexual transmitted diseases. Oh no! They also have in stock a soft-toy version of the Ebola Virus - one of the best candidates for wiping out huge swathes of human life should it ever mutate into an airborne variant.

I'm just wondering how US Customs would respond should you, in answer to their question of 'anything to declare?', reply 'Nothing, apart from the fact that I've got enough Ebola Virus in my suitcase to give to my children and all their friends...

A new day, a new novel...

Today I started work on my second novel.

The first novel was finished over the summer in a bout of frenzied writing and, while I really liked it, I don't currently have any intention of submitting it for publication. The second novel, however, is an altogether different beast and I've set my sights firmly on writing something that is quite at home sitting on a bookshelf in Waterstones...

I can't tell you too much about it at this stage save to say that it's set in the late 19th Century and contains more than a smidgen of humour. Oh, and the first line (well, unless I revise it later) is:

"I awoke, for the second time, on Wednesday morning with a sore toe."