Ross mcCulloch is a recovering journalist with a CV more chequered than a motor-racing flag.

After many witless attempts to break the "big story" - with duds such as contacting Rizla to ascertain if animal-bone glue was being used in the production of cigarette papers, hoping that thousands of vegetarians had been licking dead cows on a daily basis - he has realised that truffle-hunting in bin-liners for news stories might not be the best way to earn a crust - hence his attempt at comedy writing.

Comedy-wise, things are already bearing his distinct hallmark of ineptitude - his parody of the Goon Show was recently laughed at by Channel Four executives for the wrong reasons and his coffee-table book on binge shopping entitled Don't Be a Cnut, Buy Fcuk is at the centre of a libel trial and for legal reasons cannot be discussed here.

His last desperate hope - before he sinks into the obscurity of a cider-sopped recluse humming ditties through a comb wrapped in tracing paper - is that there's a commissioning editor with even less nous than he has viewing this website looking for some talent that works cheap.

For further details of his CGI-generated sitcom "Meet the Dysons" - about a family of asthmatic dust balls living beneath a bed in suburbia - contact him by email, as he really does need the work.