Paper Cuts
Created | Updated Jul 31, 2002

Garret
I knew it. I knew this would happen. When I was thirteen I used to lie awake in bed, fear gripping my very pyjamas, wondering just what on earth would become of me in adult life. What am I good for? What can I do? In short, what is the use of spimcoot? The answers, respectively: zilch, zip, zippo. My young self would shake free from future horrors with the happy revelation that it was only thirteen and had plenty of Airfix models to make before those stark times landed upon it.
I've been stalking through these stark times for a number of years now. They're not so bad; things generally aren't when faced, it's the waiting, the demned awful waiting I tell you! Why can't Jerry just shoot us if that's what they want, mm, mm? Awf'lly sorry old cheps, but it's beddie byes for you, and part our moustaches for us with a bullet? But no, no, oh no, a ha ha ha ha - slap - Steady the buffs Wing Co. It's not me, you understand, but you're putting the wind up Briskett: he's nibbled that old bear of his nearly to the bone...
And when things get too rough, one can always retreat into WWII POW films.
I've always been a late developer: I was a child genius at twenty six so there's a chance that I'll be a successful thirty-something somewhere in my sixties. However, just at the moment I'm so low on funds that I can't even get strapped for cash.
There's a terrible conclusion to be drawn from all this: I need a job. This brings me to the crux or gravamen of my text. Namely:
one spimcoot for hire; barely used; international artistic commissions/London office positions gleefully undertaken. Know of a vacancy? Slip a spimcoot into it.
Not only this, you lucky people, but I am selling the originals of my cartoons. Fancy a spimcoot hung on your wall? All enquiries/job offers/obscene suggestions in confidence to [email protected]
I have been looking for a job, I should assure you, but have been having trouble. Trouble looking, that is, not finding. I've found simply dozens of the things but they all require experience, and I assume they mean experience pertinent to the position advertised. I have experience in spades but it's of slouching. In recent years I've perfected my technique in this noble art. It's very much the young man's pursuit. In older participants it can be mistaken for, at best, stooping, at worst, ague. Hence I strived to achieve my peak (a peak some several feet below those of other sports) while still in the first flush of idle youth. Those years of hard work, however, have led to an embarrassing lacuna on my CV which I explain away by claiming a prison sentence for tap dancing on a Chief Constable's hat.
Remember, never run in public and slouch for all you're worth, while you still can.