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The Man With A Long Chin's Diary

 

Brown Sauce Factory

13/11/98-1?/11/98

13 November 1998 - BROWN SAUCE FACTORY

I have given up selling cacti after I accidentally burst my biggest cactus on a bus. Instead, I have a new job working in a brown sauce factory. You wouldn't believe the things they put in brown sauce: peas, bits of leather, beards...

The worst bit of my job is when I get some of the brown sauce on my fingers. Uh! I hate it when I get brown sauce on my fingers. I have to go and wash them immediately, or they'll smell all day.


14 November 1998 - BROWN SAUCE FACTORY

We have such a laugh working in this brown sauce factory. For example, last night, my colleague and I were clearing out the shrivellers - the name for the dried-up bits of brown sauce residue left behind in the brown sauce vat - when our supervisor came in with one of those fox furs round his neck.

He pranced up and down cooing and saying stuff like, "Ooh, look at me boys, aren't I lovely?" I tell you – it was hilarious! I laughed for an hour.


16 November 1998 - BROWN SAUCE FACTORY

I never thought that working in a brown sauce factory could be such fun. The only downside is the canteen, which has a menu consisting of nothing but dishes made from human flesh – the leftovers of ex-employees who fell into the brown sauce vat.

I've nothing against cannibalism per se, but I'm sure there's some sort of regulation which states that employers must provide a non-cannibal option for workers who object to eating human flesh.


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