Bye Bye Big Boy

I promised to stop blogging at the end of April. But last Friday's extraordinary news about Al's departure from County Hall has set me thinking. Apart from anyting else that £140,000 compensation package I received two years ago has all but gone, so I write now with a positive suggestion. Come on Al, you're on the outside now, unconstrained by the protocols of public service. So lets see the colour of your courage. Issue writs. Lots of them.Call in the experts. Take it all to court and prove that your good name has been besmirched with all this tittle-tattle about mistresses and payoffs and bullying and corruption. You know it makes sense. You might even win and then you could slip me a little something extra to keep me quiet a little bit longer.

I dare you Alan. I can even help with some legal contacts. But I bet you wont, you snivelling little coward.

What affair?

Now he's denying that he had an affair with me!

Poor Alan.

I fear for his sanity.

He needs help.

Soon.

Or else a job that requires no honesty.

Like banking?

Alan and the Oldest profession

Isn't it strange how the meaning of a simple word can alter with time. When I was a girl ( just a decade or two ago ) there was something extremely dirty about "procurement". It implied.....do I really need to spell it out - read the definition for yourself. But we live in a very different world now, where those who procure are celebrated with glittering awards and get a pat on the back from AJ for doing it. Frankly they can count themselves very lucky if he stops with a pat. Or stops at the back. In the old days procurement involved sleazy sexual favours and a generous payment at the end of it. Does £144,000 ring any bells?

The Flesh is Weak

Freudian slip

AJ would go on and on about it, quoting tedious paragraphs of Sigmund's book and grinning that manic grin. He was obsessed and, I'm afraid, he still is. He's now forcing everyone to join a "team". Where will it all end? He's even got that awfully nice trade union bloke with the pony tail involved.

Let the train take the strain

Ahh. Those were the days. Just like "Brief Encounter" but without the rock cake and the steam. AJ and I would get up to all kinds of mischief on railway stations. I kind of fancy a trip to Frome tomorrow just to see if he is still on form. Why not join me?

Mum's gone to Iceland

If only he had bothered to read the small print. That's AJ for you. It may say "the value of your investment can go down as well as up" but he never bothers with the detail. Too busy with the big picture, the broad canvas. Or simply the broad. Always the first to stick his fingers into the fire, or in this case the deep freeze, without so much as a thought for the consequences. Sometimes it paid off. Remember the Colour-me-Beautiful lady, Mary Spillane, I recall him boasting to me about how he'd encouraged her to get her t*** out, and guess what - she did. Well who's the big tit now AJ?