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.

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