I've co-conducted so many interviews over the last year or so, and with rare exceptions they've been awful. On the one previous occasion when the candidate was actually very good, the interview itself still didn't have the flow and chemistry of a good interview.

Today, this duck was finally broken. From the off, the candidate was clearly smart, clued up, and capable. That was that. I only asked questions to prove what I already knew, that the candidate could answer them.

Very good.

During the interview, the manager, presiding over proceedings, had forgotten his sheet of company facts. I offered to make some up. At the end of the briefing about the company I offered that our CEO has the world's largest collection of dolls. "Is that true?" I was asked. "No." I stated confidently. Good times.

I even managed to follow up a good interview with a good lunch. Though I'm sure it wasn't the healthiest of options, the beef looked good and I've not had a hot meal since Saturday, and even that was fairly cold after I'd chatted over it, rather than eat it. Prior to that, I can't remember the last hot meal. So, I have no regrets.

None.

I'm feeling thin today anyway.

For no reason.

This is turning into Bridget Jones's diary, so I'd better say something manly. Whoar, look at the, erm, joists on the sprocket wing-nuts on that beauty. Yeah, I wouldn't mind applying WD-40 to the thread on that. And cranking the living, hoodoo, out of the old, wotsit, doodah, nut-handle.

Yep. I still got it.