Not banging on about my Knighthood

What a bloody weekend that was! I decided that the most appropriate way to celebrate my Knighthood (which I dedicate to BUBB and the whole voluntary sector and its work with the disadvantaged in society even though really it's all my own work) would be to drink loads of expensive champagne. And have a sardine sandwich so nothing too grand. Apart from the champagne.

Some people have expressed cynicism about the fact I am on the honours committee myself but I can assure everyone that I had no say in awarding myself my prize and rumours that I offered bribes to my colleagues and then locked those who refused to take them in a cupboard are untrue. Well, not untrue but certainly without credible evidence to support them. Because I have got rid of it all.

At least I can now finally clean all of the shit that has accumulated on my nose in my pursuit of this honour.

But work goes on. I was all over the media like a bad suit with my calls to castrate those rich bankers and use their bollocks to give the Bogg Society Bank some balls.

Although I am not going to mention my Knighthood at all I have I have been much on the blackberry over the last 2 days. I have been really touched by the vast number of emails and texts from people saying congrats, even folk who think I don't deserve it which just shows how two-faced people can be when it suits them - which isn't a criticism by the way, but something I heartily applaud. Someone even wrote me a limerick, which is appropriate given the fact my Irish ancestors the Peat-Boggs live their lives in limerick form.

There once was a young man named Bogg
Who finally became a big cog
He was knighted, good golly
By the Queen's poshest brolly
And then got stuck into the grog

I am far too modest to repeat some of the other glowing tributes I received and no doubt my spoofer, Stephen Bubb (or Sir Stephen as I expect he will predictably and lamely restyle himself), will keep me cut down to size should I get too carried away.