I pull to the left, I heave to the right…

It’s Friday afternoon, which seems like a decent time for our (semi) regular job thread over at Balloon Juice … (Is it blog whoring when you whore someone else’s blog?)

If you are looking for work, looking for talented people, or just have ideas as to how the aforementioned might contact each other, have a look over there, or post here, or both – it bothers me not which you choose.

Our first two threads are here and here in case anyone wants to go back and check if someone responded to their message. If you posted before, feel free to post again. As my great uncle Rupert (the pretender to the Perrott Baronetcy of Plumstead) used to say to me when I was just a young girl, “No one ever got their end in without asking. Several times, if necessary, eh what?” No matter how many times I kicked that man in the groin, he always tried on his next visit. Still, he came to a sticky end, so that all worked out alright.

Oh, and if I was asked, I would say that the Balloon Juice thread is an open-ish thread. Don’t stomp on the job talk, my little loves, but feel free to chat amongst yourselves. ETA: Oh, and don’t feed the you-know-whats.

You might also like to go and visit the lovely Mr Clark at Slacktivist and see what’s happening on his jobs thread. Go for the jobs, stay for the glurge. Great post, even better word… “Glurge”. Like “moist”, only more so.

Speaking of work, this is an opportune moment to explain why I haven’t been posting as much. I have a job. Well, at least a volunteer one. I am, get this, traveling with Michele Bachmann’s campaign entourage.

Now Madam and I have a little bit of a history, but I’ve been playing good Republican woman for almost seventy years now, so it wasn’t hard to talk my way on to the bus. I just dropped a few mentions of “Dear Karl” and the odd “As Nancy said to me at the funeral…” into the conversation with her campaign manager, and flashed around the 4 carat Tiffany (which I won from Nancy Astor in a game of strip cribbage), and before I knew it I was gazing into those crazy snake eyes and being pressed against a perfumed and shapely bosom. That Marcus sure does smell good.

I even have a business card. “Sarah Howard” it says. “Community Liaison”. The other side has a picture of Michelle looking notably crazy (and that, my dears, is an achievement) and staring up at a dyspeptic-looking eagle. I’m not sure if the eagle is supposed to be America or Jesus or what, but whenever I look at the damn card, I hear Rush playing in my head and get a brief sense-memory called “3am-pot-smoke-filled-Mystery-Machine”.

I am liaising with the community. In particular, a rather cute, but horribly conflicted Log Cabin Republican youth with gold-dusted Idaho farmboy thighs, who appears to want only two things in life – to elect Michele Bachmann as President, and to crush out the last flickering flame of his heterosexuality on little old me. I live to serve.

Would you believe that on the first night, they wanted me to stay in a Motel 6? I just found out which hotel Michelle was staying in each night, and then booked into the biggest suite they had. You should have seen her envious glances at my complimentary fruit baskets. However, it used to make the oranges sour and the strawberries positively mealy, so I stopped inviting her to visit after about a week. There was no more mention of the Motel 6, let me tell you.

Anyway, I have my weekends free, so I will be posting here and at Balloon Juice then, and keeping you all up to date on the goings on.

Finally, a couple of you have asked how to get in touch. You can email me from the link on my About page. I do try to respond to emails and website comments, but I’m an old woman who spends her days trying to win the Republican nomination for a pair of false eyelashes, a blouse and a grudge, and her nights pressed against a boy who smells like fresh mown hay and squeaks when you bite his nipples. I barely have time to eat, let alone respond to things like lawyers’ letters, so please be patient with me.

Much love,


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