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?

Gloakoma

"Gloakoma", AJ was fond of saying "is an ocular deformity which prevents the patient seeing anything uncomfortable or incriminating." Then he would giggle and jump back into bed beside me. Of course I knew Gloak was up to his neck in everything. AJ described him as "that unscrupulous uphill gardener". But AJ also had something on him. Rather a lot on him I expect. We all remember the vintage Merc, and the pomposity of the man ordering strangers to polish it. We also recall his moments of madness or, as AJ used to call them, his "indefatigable efforts to devalue the eight-bob note". Gloak had his nose in the trough and AJ knew. It was Gloak who acted on AJ's behalf and did his dirty work. It was Gloak who helped broker my pay off. This is probably the last pose we'll ever see of the man grinning as he clutches a fat cheque.

Up the Ardoyne!

I adore this event.

Mighty men let their hair down - hair permitting, of course! It can lead to new contacts, big contracts and lots of freebies, frolics and good old-fashioned fun.

SouthWest One has bagged the number one slot in the exhibition hall this year, right next to IBM. These two pitches must have cost a pretty penny, but who's counting. I'm sure AJ isn't. The price has gone up a bit. £665 per person. But I've already booked a double room at the main hotel. After all it is well worth getting close to the action. Just ask the hall porter, he'll show you up. And there's a lovely view of the city as well as me. See ya there!