Free dinner

There are rumours circulating (started by me) that I may have wangled a free dinner at the Canopy Finance Directors' Group annual bash tonight at the Gampcaster Hotel. I am unable to confirm or deny this (as I am still checking whether there is a croissant and couscous option on the menu).

I am having severe couscous withdrawal symptoms as I have been banned from 487 supermarkets for setting fire to health lottery promotional material. Still, it made a terrific birthday bonfire when the Blacbury Lidl went up in flames on Saturday.

I haven't been officially invited to CFDG's baked-bean-counters trough-out but anyone with a dinner jacket and brass balls can usually just waltz into a fancy hotel and blag a free nosebag.

Assuming I am not too busy retiring from writing blog posts and do decide to attend, please feel fee to come and say "Wassup, Sir Robin, my main man, bro' you're sure looking cool, dude, check out that Knighthood" if you spot me and I have got past security. Some people claim they are unsure what I look like but I can assure you I look in person just as I do in the photos.

Of course I may not be going at all and this could all be some sort of a highly amusing test but if you do introduce yourself to someone who isn't really me you'll still have made a new friend. Albeit a very confused one.

Actually, perhaps I should have a code sentence for people to use. How about "Give me women (or men), wine, and snuff, until I cry out "hold, enough!". That way even if you speak to the wrong person you may at least get something interesting and have a cracking night.

Incidentally, that line is Shelley for non-poetic blog readers. Indeed it's Shelley for the poetic ones as well, but it just sounds more condescending if I highlight my classical Oxford, naturally, education in comparison to those who are uncultured barbarians. Which makes me look even more of a pompous arse when you realise that it's actually Keats. Oops.

Not blogging about the health lottery

Not gallivanting around Australia blogging and definitely not orchestrating a Qantas dispute so I can spend extra time there plus a wangle a bonus stay in Singapore and a visit to Raffles (I am so cliched it's not true. Which is in itself a cliche. Which in itself has become a cliche. Which isn't so much a cliche. Which definitely isn't a cliche) has given me an opportunity to actually get stuck into an issue that could affect all of my members - the disgraceful health lottery. This shocking idea by everyone's favourite porn-baron media mogul Richard Desmond (or to give him is Bogg name, Dick, well, just Dick) basically promises to be better than the existing lottery but basically it's a right lottery and could see a reduction in brollies.

I have publicly gone into my local Lidl and knocked over their health lottery promotional display and torn up their tickets. This is because I passionately believe this lottery is a threat to the umbrella sector and not because I see it as a cause I can hitch my bandwagon to. If that were the case I would have just penned an open letter urging supermarkets to boycott the health lottery as a way of generating publicity for Bubb.

But why stop there? While I am trying to dictate to commercial businesses exactly what legal products they can and can't sell why not add some other things to my basket of grievances. Supermarkets should also ban Dick newspapers the Express and the Star because they are shit. As is Channel 5. No supermarket employees should be allowed to watch it. It's for their own good. And I don't much like kumquats, supermarket own brand custard creams or yoghurts with fruit lumps in them so they should all be banned as well. And if Lidl could stock catering size bags of couscous that would be dandy. In fact that is a crucial issue. I may pen an open letter on that soon. And then launch a commission. Ooooh, yes a commission. That's what we need. Can I chair it? Please? Oh go on, I love chairing things. I won't blog about it - promise.

Because I have retired from blogging. And I am a man of my word.