Sunday, 27 February 2011

Lost in a moral maze (abridged version)

Mad Melanie Phillips made me look a right fucking wassock as I attempted to defend umbrellas. I am a disgrace.

Lost in a moral maze (full length version)

I misjudged how difficult it would be. I went into the Hampton Court maze with Melanie Phillips. And she made me look stupid by easily beating me to the centre ground while I got lost. I was floundering in the rain without a brolly, having forgotten that the primary purpose of an umbrella is to keep people dry.

I thought afterwards about the route I should have taken and am now kicking myself. Which saves someone else doing it I suppose. But honestly, to let a crazed bigot like Mad Mel show me up as a literally misguided fool indicates what a disgraceful advocate of gamps I have become during the post-Knighthood media frenzy.

And as I got stuck I'm afraid I was starting to bang on the side of the hedge to try and get out. Naughty me. But when I looked at the CCTV footage later I was rather happier with my performance. So that's OK because ultimately satisfying my own vanity is more important than representing my members in a decent fashion.

Tuesday, 22 February 2011


The below image of my Libyan cousin Colonel Gampddafi has raised questions about my own involvement in his murderous regime.

I would like to go on record and state that I do back him or his callous attempts to use the brolly as a propaganda tool. True, like him, I have managed to remain in power despite constant abuse of my position for personal gain and growing unpopularity.

And make no mistake about it, I would be off to Venezuela in a shot, especially if there was a conference and a jolly there that I could get the members to pay for.

But I was strongly opposed to the Brown government selling brollies to Libya, supposedly for the protection of the people but which are now being turned against them as weapons.

And I wasn't involved in any deal to send a rogue Libyan gamp back home from a Scottish umbrella stand when its spokes were irreparably bent. Even though people such as @kevfrost talk about a murky "British Paraplui-eum deal for Libyan br-oil-lies".

Friday, 18 February 2011

Chaos at Windsor Castle

Well, what a week! I started it by namedropping about telling the Prime Minister about the damage the cuts are doing to umbrellas and I ended the week namedropping about Her Maj whacking me in the bollocks at my investiture.

The day started off with a slight hitch when I got to the gates of Windsor Castle. My bald patch was gleaming but I was told that Hawaiian shirts are not allowed.

I have to admit I was a little more nervous talking to my Sovereign than I was to her Prime Minister! (Did I honestly just type that?). In fact I was desperate for a slash as soon as I got inside but didn't dare visit a toilet to splash the Royal Doulton after my recent experience at Amnesty and I didn't want to risk using one of the many convenient vases dotted around the castle.

I expected there to be some food available, indeed I had phoned ahead and ordered couscous but apparently Prince Philip had eaten it all.

And I also requested that instead of a sword Her Maj use a ceremonial umbrella.

The rehearsal was amusing. When I say amusing I mean pointless. I didn't get where I am today without knowing how to kneel before someone to get what I want.

Suddenly it was time for the real thing. I decided to live tweet the experience. Some jobsworth told me to stop using my Blackberry but I just ignored them.

Then it was my turn. Before the dubbing there was some idle chit chat (just get on with it, I was thinking, before someone changes their mind).

HM asked about BUBB and said to me umbrellas seemed to be having a hard time. Like she'd know - she may have had a long rain but has not wanted for someone to hold a gamp over her privileged crowned bonce if the need has arisen. Probably never actually handled a real brolly in her life (as later events would prove).

I told her that our chief executives were indeed having a difficult time and she just tutted and said "fuck me, sunshine, you should try being chief executive of this bloody dysfunctional family, matey." She also asked me what her Boggname would be when I inevitably wrote about the day's events in a pompous fashion in my blog. Cheeky cow. You've got to earn a Bogg name.

Then it was time. I think my Twitter feed in real time best illustrates how the drama unfolded:

My turn. I am starting to kneel down

She is mumbling my name. She looks thoroughly bored

She's lifted the mighty umbrella

She's lowering it...

OH NO, DISASTER. She's been blinded by the light reflecting off my bald patch and has whacked me in the bollocks

She's commanded me to "arise Sir Robin" but I can't. I am in agony and cannot move. Will this count?

I've been carried out the room and slung into the garden. I assume I am "invested" even though it was chaotic

Right. That's that then. Off to the pub

And here for your delectation are the photos. On second thoughts, why would anyone want to see pictures of me and the Queen engaged in anachronistic pomp and ceremony? Especially at a time when I am loudly going on about how the cuts will affect the poorest members of society and generating a fair bit of personal media coverage and attention thank you very much - the sort that gets you a Knighthood in the first place.

It might seem a little hypocritical to be swanning around a castle in my posh frock and stockings partaking in a charade that merely underlines the deep inequality in our society, especially when it was attacking the consequences of that very divide that got me the K.

You'll just have to imagine the scene for yourselves. Tell you what, get yourself a first class stamp and an umbrella and go from there.

Bogg Society Bank

At the end of last year I wrote to the Chancellor urging him to consider a tax on bank bonuses, in order to ease the £1bn cuts the brolly sector faces in the year ahead.

This morning I received his response. Read it here.

Thursday, 17 February 2011

The ear of the Minister

Never doubt my influence. I have the ear of the minister for the brolly sector, Rick T'Hurd, and have finally got him to admit to a mistake amid all of the recent shafting of the umbrella sector.

On his Twitter account yesterday using his @minforcivsoc guise he mentioned that there would be a Public Gampstration Select Committee enquiry into Bogg Society

Well this is clearly a bloody outrage. Aside from the ridiculousness of looking into something that doesn't exist other than in the deluded minds of Cameron, Lord Gnat Pee and Dom Blond, what the hell did T'Hurd think he was talking about?

I respond immediately asking him whether there will be an inquiry into government ministers who don't know the difference between the words enquiry and inquiry.

And he has acknowledged his error here. At 12.41 in the morning. Can't fault his commitment to working long hours at least.

Feel my power.

Bogg falsely imprisoned in Amnesty's bogs

Although I whore myself out around the brolly sector's events treadmill shamelessly there are some people who still reckon they don't really know who I am and what I look like, especially those I know on Twitter.

Of course, the beauty of these social media platforms is you can engage with all manner of lunatics without actually having to meet them in the flesh. Why, you might as well not even properly exist in real life, as bizarre as that may sound.

But sometimes some well meaning deluded fool thinks it is a good idea to organise what is known as a Tweet Up, so that people can get together and chat properly like what we used to in the olden days.

One of the most successful tweet ups in the umbrella sector is the NFP (Never Fear Precipitation) Tweet Up organised by Rachel Beer (who goes under her spoof name of @rachelbeer on Twitter) founder of digital consultancy experts, Brollyful World.

There was a NFP Tweet Up last night so I decided to bite the bullet and attend, if only to silence the doubters who think I don't really have a face to put with my name.

It was held at Amnesty International's HQ. All was going well at first. I got my free pen AND I had been promised couscous (so good 'they named and ate it twice). I had empowered attendees to volunteer to make some on my behalf so I didn't have to bother (Big Couscousiety)

But then the boring presentations started - you know the sort of thing, a load of old guff that no one cares about but you have to sit through to justify the booze and so you can claim the whole gig on work expenses.

So I thought I would duck out to the toilets to do some graffiti and leave my tag to prove I had been at the event as suggested by Ronnie Ha-ha (@zoeamar). But I got locked in.

Falsely imprisoned in Amnesty International's toilets. I started writing letters to Amnesty pleading with them to campaign for my release but I don't think they got through as there was no response.

I tried to engage the principles of the Bog Society to empower citizens to volunteer to break the (engaged) door down so the State didn't have to. No luck.

Judging by the twitterstream for #NFPtweetup there were some half hearted attempts to start a petition (I hate petitions - they're about as effective as writing names on a list) and a campaign to #freerobinbogg but I think most people thought the whole thing was an elaborate joke. Or they were happy to let me die in there.

Amnesty themselves were probably waiting for me to have spent at least 10 years locked in before they did anything so they could get some proper mileage and capital out of it.

One individual called Nicqui O'Nassis (@jacquiobeirne) even claimed to have launched a rescue mission to free me but I don't believe her.

To make matters worse I dropped my free pen down the toilet when attempting to jiggle the lock.

And human rights? Don't talk to me about human rights. Honestly don't. I don't believe in them and it is my human right to ignore them.

You couldn't imagine the squalor in those bogs. They only had single ply bogg roll. An outrage.

I managed to escape this morning when a cleaner turned up but it was not a pleasant experience I can tell you.

Still, I nearly met a load of people who almost know me.

Wednesday, 16 February 2011

The dust settles on my bald patch

You can imagine the scene. Well you'll have to because it will never fucking happen. I'm in the gym (ha ha ha). With my personal trainer (Donald Holding) and I step off the running machine (the what? am I for real?) to do an interview with BBC Radio Sheffield (Sheffield? In the North. This gets even more preposterous). On my mobile (at least that bit rings (!) true).

I also get a text from my vice chair the magnificent Ms Social Enterprise London Pin-Up Girl (hubba hubba Bubba) Hillda Ogden-Newton&Ridley to tell me "woke up, turned on the TV and you were not on it for once, thank fuck. I haven't been able to watch any of my favourite programmes for fear that you would appear. I have missed several episodes of Rastamouse and had nightmares that you'd appear at the Brits singing Rihanna's Umbrella-ella-ella in a spandex leotard. I could have sworn I even saw you on Emmerdale discussing the cuts with the Dingles in the Woolpack. Are you having trouble keeping your end up?" [private joke between myself and Hillda, eh Hillda? Please do comment to confirm below if you read this would you sweetie? Ta]

And I admit after a marathon 2,893 separate media interviews I'm fair whacked and having trouble keeping it up - it is hard work trying to maintain a straight face when all around are talking bollocks - so I have taken the morning off. To go to the gym (no one is falling for this, right?)

I need to do some essential grooming! But enough about my online chatroom activity. I'm at Windsor Castle on Friday for my Investiture. I'm beginning to get nervous. What if they realise it has all been a terrible error and rescind my K? Will HM spot my bald patch as I kneel before her? Will I blind her as the glare of the lights bounces off it? Will she think it's Hubert come back for another go? Will she even give a toss given she's been married to a slaphead for 400 years? Still my nails are scrubbed clean, which took bloody ages due to the accumulated grime from all of the grubby matters I have dirtied my hands with over the years, and my birthday suit is well pressed to iron out any wrinkles.

And, yes I know, that is now two mentions I have made of my bald patch recently, not that I am vain or anything. But I may have to accelerate progress on researching the possibilities of gampwigs.

So where are we on Bogg Society? No new announcements but I detect a change of tone. There is even more negativity than before.

I had a long list of points to make at this point but I really




Monday, 14 February 2011

Why Cameron must end Bogg Society

Dave - for everyone's sake, LET BOGG SOCIETY GO! I cannot keep up this level of cynicism and blogging. It's not healthy. I may need to empower someone to volunteer to be cynical and blog on my behalf so I don't have to.

Launching the relaunch of the launch of something that isn't being relaunched even though it is

I pity the poor people of Humberside. What a shithole. But at least they had the good fortune to hear me explaining my view of Bogg Society and denouncing cuts on their local radio. As did loads of other godforsaken holes around Britain. This Knighthood means the BBC obviously think I have some credibility. Though a Knight shouldn't be made to get up early and served shite coffee.

As the media marathon ends I head to the PM's Bogg Society relaunch speech. But this exercise in media vanity isn't just an exercise in media vanity. It's a superb opportunity to get a message across about cuts in brolly funding. And frankly it has been the relentless pounding by BUBB on cuts that has helped shift opinion and partly explains Cameron's relaunch.

Yep, it's all down to me.

Now you know you have arrived when you discover that Nick Robinson is reading your blog though he looked like a man who had been caught looking at snuff movies on his laptop. Hi Nick! You biased prick. I spoke to him this morning at the relaunch event in Somerset House with my colleague Sir Hubert.

Bogg Society may be one daft idea that the PM is running with as his personal mission. He thinks it's genius. It isn't. Well it might be. No one can tell.

And his relaunch scam is another example of potential genius let down by shabby execution. I love a launch event as you may know. An opportunity to get some sponsored canapes and fizz and swan around giving it large. And the PM has now relaunched Bogg Society 485 times, while smoothly denying that the relaunches are launches.

But he has completely neglected the catering side of things. Poor show. Ultimately Bogg Society may collapse for the lack of a sausage roll. Presumably Cam expected someone to volunteer to put on a bit of a buffet, provide a few cakes etc. Unless there was some intervention by Derek Gherkins.

Still it was a good speech. David Cameron is a superb communicator. You know exactly what message the smarmy insincere privileged upper class shitehawk is putting across - you're all screwed, ha ha ha. Couldn't be clearer. Except when it comes to Bogg Society.

It was a top class performance in bullshitting and you can tell that this is something he believes in, the deluded, stubborn toff. And thanks to Dave's efforts today I am sure everyone is so much clearer about Bogg Society now. We may as well have looked for answers on Dave. The TV channel.

Some highlights from his speech: "Really, the Bogg Society is very simple. And so are you if you don't get it"

"The Bogg Society is not empty rhetoric. It's much less full and lacking substance than that"

"The Bogg Society is so easy to understand that even George reckons he comprehends it (he doesn't)"

"I order you to revolt against the top down statist approach and volunteer to build an active society"

"This isn't a top down solution. I order you to be empowered and make Bogg Society work. It's my mission and comes from the top"

If Cameron spent as much effort explaining what Bogg Society actually is as he has constantly relaunching it then it probably wouldn't help much.

At least has finally got everyone talking about Bogg Society - now a far greater percentage of the public don't understand it at all rather than just the handful that had heard of it.

Did you see me on the telly?

Sunday is full English breakfast day, but I had only just got the sausages on, when the phone goes. BBC wanting me for the news, so I was straight out to do that, then a studio session for Sky Sports celebrity wrestling, where I was grappling with Bogg Society bullshitter Dom Blond while the Archbishop of Southwark refereed.

Did you see me? I was so knackered I could barely keep my eyes open. But I think I won on points. Mind you, that Blond is a slippery customer to fight against. You just can't pin him down on anything. And he won't give up, but stubbornly ploughs ahead even if his ideas and tactics aren't working.

I think I definitely had the support of the Archbishop - always handy having God on your side as was been evidenced later in the day. You may recall back in October I reported a heinous crime against a member of the Bogg family who had his umbrella stolen from church. The Lord does in fact move in mysterious ways as a brolly miraculously reappeared yesterday in the spot the stolen one was last seen. It isn't quite the same one having a different coloured handle but is a brolly nevertheless.

If it wasn't divine intervention it is evidence that my many enemies have been reminded of who is the Daddy of the brolly sector now I am all over the media like a Davina McCall shaped rash. Either way, honour is somewhat restored.

The only downer on the day was returning home to find my kitchen was a blackened shell. I had forgotten to turn the sodding sausage pan off in my haste to leave the house.

Sunday, 13 February 2011

The Sir Robin Bogg Memorial Public Toilet

The news yesterday on the Bogg Society Bank is good. Readers of the blog will know I have been banging on about this for flipping ages - the need for an adequate loan fund. I said 60 million umbrellas is not enough. So I will take some, no most of the credit after getting a call from Rick T'Hurd MP telling me they have pledged an extra 200 million gamps on top of the dormant ones left lying around in banks, unclaimed by anyone. This is a serious start.

So I tell Rick we are pleased. He should be congratulated for his dedication in putting up with my constant whinging and ending up doing what I was calling for even though it must have gone against every instinct in his political body. It sets a dangerous precedent for ministers if they are seen to be allying with my pronouncements on things. Could be career suicide.

I was also delighted that the original brolly minister supreme, the man who is what James Purnell could have been, God Megagrand MP raised the closure of libraries in his constituency at PM Questions last week. It is a disgrace that the County Council plan to close my own beloved Blacbury Library. I never use it - it's just full of old books - but there is a pubic toilet outside that will also be closed, which is where I do my bogging (meeting strangers to exchange brollies) at the weekend, so it's practically a national treasure. Save Bogg's bog David!

Health and the PM! Yes, The PM!

Well that was spooky! Walking along Whitehall with health secretary Nothingfunny Abouthisname's special adviser in a headlock when I bump into...Nothingfunny Abouthisname. Well it would be spooky if I wasn't stalking the bastard. I want to make sure that he doesn't make the same mistakes as Sandy Burnham-Drownham with his preferred provider guff about suppliers of brollies to the NHS. Any willing provider is a much better idea and we are willing to provide Abouthisname his opinion about this until he accepts. Or he'll need the NHS himself.

I'm speaking to the MPs tomorrow morning, then on to speak at two conferences. Is a good job that having been around for yonks I don't need to spend too long preparing a speech. I just spout the same old bollocks I always have which I know by heart.

Last week I was blogging from HM Treasury where the Prime Minister had been announcing stuff. He must have mentioned brollies some 10 times in his speech and even referred to me directly. "Will you put that bloody Blackberry down while I am talking you ignorant tosser." Then shook my hand on the way out and said don't come back.

Been trying to have a relaxing weekend though I am on Sky News this morning arguing the toss with Dom Blond. You can't move in the media these days without me popping up like a one man quote machine. Or even a one quote man machine. And you can quote me on that.

Saturday, 12 February 2011

Bogg Society ambassador attacks brollies

What a great start to the morning. I nearly choked on my bacon croissant after reading the Times. Apparently we are to have some Bogg Society Ambassadors. Presumably part of their role is to explain what the concept is (if that is possible) not undermine it by attacking those at the core of its delivery.

Let me tell you what the new ambassador Shamed Brolley thinks about "big umbrellas", as reported in The Times. Talking about big brollies who have been protesting about cuts he says it's just about "a few people with their vested interests who thought they were going to make a lot of money".

This is a disgusting slur on the work of some of our countries most loved and most effective umbrellas, sheltering the dampest members of society. Though he is right about one thing - I haven't made nearly the amount of cash I hoped to.

Some ambassador. I hope he chokes on his ferrero rocher.

Brolley had better not show his face round here. He's now on the "Markov" list with Dylan Twirley and Lotte Shight. Watch your step Brolley or one of those big umbrellas you lambast may just swipe you across one of your two faces.

And I won't mention that Umbrella Commission inquiry into those missing 16,000 gamps either OK?

Those bloody Lords

It is no great secret that I am desperate to get my arse into the House of Lords and cause some real havoc. And I think it is this burning ambition that leads me to confront those undeserving idiots that have already inexplicably made it.

Not content with bugging Lord Gnat Pee, I now turn my attention to computer wide boy and unfathomable BBC TV star Lord Shhhhhhhh.

While most people yesterday were rejoicing in the fall of President Muboggarak in Egypt (though Cameron couldn't have sounded less like he gave a shit - probably puts it down to another failure of multiculturalism) and rushing to deliver the most over the top statement they could alluding to "history in the making etc" (everyone is suddenly an expert on Egypt though I didn't hear any of them mentioning the plight of the Egyptian people for the last 30 years) Lord Shhhhhhhh was on Twitter under his assumed name @lord_sugar with this quite unbelievable comment (via @richpayne88).

I mean, quite right your Lordship - how dare people get upset with undemocratic, unelected government. Like the House of Lords for example.

Lord Shhhhhhhh quickly deleted his crass comment, and that's his major mistake if you ask me. If you publish something in a social media setting that is clearly ill-judged knee-jerk reaction that upsets people NEVER retract it. It shows weakness and draws attention to it. Much better to plough on, thick skinned, and try and bluff your way through the embarrassment. It's an approach that I have persisted with for years in my blog after all.

A Blond moment

Regular readers of this car crash, sorry blog will know that even though Bogg Society was originally my idea of a joke, the very clever Dom Blond from Republica (he's drop dead gorgeous and ready to go) has appropriated it as his own and made it a central plank (dead wood) of the government's policy.

As well as spending lots of time not explaining what it is properly (we'll empower citizens to volunteer to explain it for themselves and misinterpret what it is so the State doesn't have to) Blond (is he a natural blond or is it bleached? I often struggle to find any highlights) has now taken to bizarre justifications of Bogg Society in action.

On Twitter, using his spoof name @phillip_blond, Blond's reaction to the government's u-turn on selling off the forests (which lest we forget was lauded as a bogg society opportunity for people to club together and run some woodland or something - I wasn't really concentrating) was:

"Superb news on forests - great the govt is listening - big society winning the debate "

Presumably he is suggesting that the u-turn was as a result of people taking responsibility and kicking up a fuss.

If the government keeps u-turning on every unpopular decision it makes, though, where will people's sense of moral outrage and need to protest come from? Did no one think of the poor "save our forests" campaigners? What will they do now? Flatten the forests, flog the trees I say - save the save our forests campaign.

But I digress.

Taking Blond's logic we might as well claim that Bogg Society is responsible for everything that happens.

Presumably the High Court judgment on BFS is also great news that shows Bogg Society is winning the debate.

Muboggarak standing down in Egypt? It was Bogg Society what won it.

Hodgson going to West Brom is also a feather in the cap of Bogg Society. Or Boing Boing Society.

I just had a lovely home made lunch (spicy couscous salad) - much kudos to Bogg Society.

I have sent my thoughts to Blond and suggested that if he replied to any of them it would be an example of Bogg Society winning the debate. He hasn't.

Ultimately, it would be good if the government could also u-turn on Bogg Society - after all, as Blond might say, it would show it is listening and that Bogg Society was winning the debate.

PS I wasn't going to blog about this but @pennyhomer demanded a blogpost. "It'd be a victory for Bogg Society" she claimed. "I want a blogpost from anyone, and I'm too lazy to do it myself. If it doesn't happen, the Bogg Society will have lost."

So I have been empowered to do it myself. How very Bogg Society.

End of an era

Upon hearing the historic news yesterday that a divisive figure who has clung onto power for years against the wishes of the people and who has pretty much done what he wants with limited accountability had stepped down, a number of folk assumed I had quit as CEO of BUBB.

But it was my cousin, the brolly Pharaoh Muboggarak who had taken the huge hint at long last over in Egypt. I am still hanging onto my job for now.

Tuesday, 8 February 2011

My pate's too thin

Well. Dame AlwaysUsesABrollyToKeepHerHairDryAsHerCoatIsHoodless, outgoing chief executive of Community Service Gampteers (CSG), dressed like a blancmange on BBC breakfast, sticking it to Lord Gnat Pee. The formidable matriarch of the brolly volunteering sector was highlighting the problem that cuts are making for the mission to drive up umbrella volunteering schemes and Bogg Society. She's quite right - these savage cuts mean we'll all be running around like hoodless chickens.

Those fuckwits at the Cabinet Office are slashing funding left, right and centre and say this is to cut our dependence on gampouts. What they appear to miss is that these strategic grants are made as a transaction in return for services. Which is a payment. DO YOU GET THAT YOU IGNORANT WASSOCKS? A PAYMENT. They seem to think that we should give out umbrellas for free. What do they think we are? Fucking charities?

And there are reports that my old mucker Derek Gherkins, communities minister, is also causing trouble by rebuffing attempts by Cameron to reward local authorities for contributing to Bogg Society. If Gherkins is determined to block something, it's very hard to shift him or get past him. So it seems that Bogg Society will be blocked by big arsery. A big, fat, wobbly immovable arse.

You can't move on the internet at the moment without tripping over another Bogg Society story, or opinion or blog post, most of them failing to grasp the main issues as I see them. It's become trendy to have a dig at it, especially for high profile pundits and columnists. Worse still are those defending it through little more of a defence than people have simply misunderstood what Bogg Society is about, without bothering to properly clarify the misconceptions that have arisen. Which is the whole problem in the first place. But where were all these sages back in March eh, when I was a lone voice?

[Next bit cut as I am even beginning to bore myself here. Right, back on message]

We all need something to cheer us up at the moment. Like a bloody good drink. [That's better]. It's depressing to get daily emails and calls from members angry at cuts meaning I have to actually pretend to do something on their behalf.

I was supposed to be at a party last night to celebrate Dame AlwaysUsesABrollyToKeepHerHairDryAsHerCoatIsHoodless' retirement. The Dame has been a long standing member of BUBB and chief executive of CSG for 458 years. Ironically, as such a keen proponent of volunteering, she resisted taking voluntary redundancy for ages. I am all for CEOs outstaying their welcome if at all possible. What a star!

Or maybe not. Her gobbing off on TV this morning meant I didn't make her leaving drinks as I had to go the BBC and then Channel 4 News in the wake of the media frenzy. I was right looking forward to some free fizz, but no, the selfish bitch had to have her little moment and ruin my evening.

My mother's main comment on my appearance with Rick T'Hurd MP on the Channel 4 News was that they had done a shot from behind us which showed off my fast developing bald patch. What with my knighthood it seems I am morphing into Sir Hubert Carrington And to make things worse, the foie gras I was served for lunch lacked substance. Its awful when your pate's too thin.

What's the "the big idea"?

I have noticed a creeping tendency to refer to Bogg Society as THE Bogg Society, as if adding that little word somehow elevates its importance.

Actually, this is a very good linguistic trick. Something described as "bollocks" has a very different meaning if subtly rebranded as "the bollocks".

And once everyone accepts it as "the Bogg Society" it is but a short step to refer to it as the "the Bogg Society" etc etc etc

It's easy to add words - now if Lord Gnat Pee et al could also add some flesh to a rapidly decaying carcass of an idea as the cuts add complications, then there is a slim chance it still might add up to something other than the Cameron's the big idea.

Friday, 4 February 2011

Bogg Society bogged down

I am not one to say I told you so (and I have told you all that many times) but I told you Bogg Society would not work while the government was cutting funding to community groups.

So it was no surprise to hear yesterday that Liverpool City Council has pulled out - no more Bogg Scousiety.

And Lord Gnat Pee has been trying to address some myths about Bogg Society after his embarrassing decision to scale back his own involvement. He has quite brilliantly countered arguments about Bogg Society being hot air with more hot air. As usual, there is a lot of waffle about what Bogg Society isn't but not much about what it is, other than the usual airy-fairy vague rhetoric.

Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Gnat Pees off

You couldn't make it up. Lord Gnat Pee (to whom, I am, never let it be forgotten number 6 in his list of 5 unofficial advisers) the government bloke empowered by Cameron to encourage citizens to volunteer to give their time in the name of Bogg Society, has scaled back his role because he can't find the time to give his time to tell others to give their time.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha splutter.

I bet he won't give up his fucking peerage someone who would value it.

I knew this government were taking the piss but I didn't expect them to start extracting it from their own half baked ideas. They'll be the death of satire at this rate as no one could possibly compete with their bumbling contradictory incompetence.