What's OK with the boss is OK with me.

I appear to have fallen through the rabbit-hole into the employment pornoverse. Quick chat with my very overworked boss to update on the last two weeks I've been working here while he's been on holiday (was supposed to be yesterday morning, I finally managed to grab fifteen minutes of his time just now):

Me: So basically I've been sitting here thinking, researching stuff on the Web, write a sentence, sit here thinking, research some more, write a sentence ...
$BOSS: Yep! That's good. That's the stuff $COW-ORKER and I don't have time to do.
Me: I shall continue then!

Read that again: my official paid task is to read the Web and write about what I find. I think the inevitable comedown from this job will be it finishing.

I have become a consultant in the finest tradition. Would bringing in my cuddly Dogbert to sit on the desk be giving the game away?