The Man with No Past

I have some diffuculty giving referrees on job application forms. They want you to give the address of your last employer. In my case the last person to employ me was me. Before that it was someone who would rather die than help me out. Before that it was a man who died a year ago, and before that it was a company that hasn't existed for fifteen years.

The post of IT Technician at the university is obviously for internal recruitment and the application pack is to fulfil the legal requirement for one. So it would probably be okay to refer them to a dead man and dead company. As I remember, both had the same tolerance for beaurocratic procedure as I do.
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I have ebayed myself a CD of ethnic drum samples. Djembes, dumbeks, seguns, shakers, talking drums, taikos and logs, plus percussion I've never even heard of.

Ambient electronic soundscapes with world music drums and melancholy songs. Sound like a nice formula?
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Mother is knitting all of her christmas presents. In red and gold psychadelic eyelash yarn. So the family get-together on boxing day will at least have a memorable colour scheme.
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District meeting this evening in Southampton, and I have the house to myself tomorrow evening - the parents are at a classical concert at Covent Garden. So after a night spent being reminded why the public think socialists are wierd, there'll be hours free for vocal recording.