Saturday 5 June 2010

Dropping more names than a clumsy phone book delivery boy

Back at work yesterday after a few days off. I had a lovely time in Scotland visiting the relatives, bothering the Boggs, and boggering the bothies or something. I would post a load of pictures from my holiday but I know no one wants to see things like that. I also spent a couple of days dicking around in Oxford, once again haunting my old visits, viewing the past through rose tinted glasses, trying to achieve rowing success through association with my athletic nephews and generally making sure the bastion of elitism is ticking over as ever, naturally. I could show some family snaps of all of the young Boggs being terribly successful and privileged at Oxford, but again, why would anyone be interested?

Yesterday, I managed to drop a thundercloud's worth of names, then grab a quick coffee with James Purnell. Oh James. Were that you still in politics, you would piss the Labour leadership contest.

Then in the evening I went round to Derek Gherkins' house for a tupperware party, a Fray Bentos pie buffet and a game of twister.

Not much happened in my absence. Everyone is still trying to figure out what Bogg Society means and how it will work in practice. I am going to spend some time over the next few days pestering as many politicians as possible by dropping their names in my blog, revealing just how close I am to them, being vomit-inducingly sycophantic and giving them a copy of the great speech I made on Bogg Society, in my head, last week. A marvellous piece of oratory that unpicked all of the contradictions with this great big pie in the sky. Including my own. Mind you if it is pie in the sky I hope they have placed it beyond the reach of Derek Gherkins' ladder.

Bad news as my director of strategy Fab Jobsworth has got engaged. He knows that the only thing he should be married to is BUBB and his job here. Mind you, got to hand it to the smooth bastard. Atop of Blackpool Tower with an engagement ring he stole off his Grandma. You can't teach class like that. Well, you can. At Oxford, naturally.

Good to see Hillda Ogden-Newton&Ridley has linked through to my blog from hers, more people should do that, eh Hubert? (who can't even be bothered to write a blog, probably because he is too busy doing his job and stuff).

And as Gemma-Plane Crash, chief executive of Beatbrollying, has made some compliments in her recent blog post about me (after slagging me off in the past) I will mention that here as well. Nothing like self-aggrandisement.

It's funny how many people say to me these days "this is not for the blog" as if I am in someway indiscreet. Mind you, there are also those who feed me stuff hoping to get it mentioned without causing them any repercussions. They know I have the brassneck to write anything without worry of the consequences. I guess just one of the penalties of writing the sector's second most widely read blog - obviously my spoofer's Stephen Bubb's is much more widely regarded.

No comments:

Post a Comment