Rather than commit cold blooded murder I left the conference early. In truth I was only there for the piss up and the fry up. Never in all my does have I listened to so much jargon spouted by such fools for no real reason. Iain MacWhirter and Kenny Harris being honourable exceptions.
One day when I'm the ruler of a charity I will hold our annual conference down the pub where we can relax, talk shop and swap ideas. Anything but watching people who can't speak talking incomprehensible nonsense to people who can't think. The highlight was the appearance of a rabbit at the full length window -though I was the only person that seemed impressed by it. In a sensible world we'd have stopped the speeches and drawn everyones attention to the rabbit -we'd have learned more and it's a well known fact that rabbits are more interesting than verbally incontinent civil servants.
If you've ever wondered what Terry Kelly would be like if he was a Tory then wonder no more. I was sat next to just such a creature last night at dinner. If I were Margaret Thatcher I'd be very worried about this fellow and his obsession. Honestly what a buffoon! In a desperate bid to shut him up I told him that I had always admired old Maggie's sense of style but didn't really like politics and couldn't comment further. Reader my plan failed. Anyway he reckons that none of the folk present last night would be where they are today without her. When I pointed out that a remark like that uttered to a table full of people working with the poor/socially excluded/ disadvantaged by an insolvency practitioner wasn't the most ringing endorsement of her policies he got a bit huffy and started moaning about immigration to change the subject. He also appeared to be under the impression that the SNP invented haggis and that it's presence on the menu was some sort of nationalist conspiracy.
To be fair to him on immigration he does appear to be suffering as a result of it. At the start of the meal the two bedroomed flat above him was home to twenty Romanian families, after the soup was served thirty Polish families had moved in by the time we got to pudding at least forty eastern European gangsters were living there. Worse still it's a brothel, they're all here illegally and in receipt of fraudulently obtained state benefits. However they cannot be arrested or deported because of the Labour government and political correctness. As if all this isn't bad enough, schools in all Eastern European countries give classes on how to get into Britain and how to commit credit card and benefit fraud as it's part of their culture to bring down the west. To be honest I think I refilling his glass at two minute intervals was a mistake.
Prior to the evening meal I decided to sit in a corner and people watch and now realise that I am not a woman but some sort of third gender. I must be. Why do women faff about so much? Why does it take them about a week to make a decision. I was sat in the bar writing my memoirs when a table of she-faffers plonked themselves down a began lengthy discussions on what drink to order. It was unbelievable instead of just saying 'I fancy a gin' or 'I'll have a pint' the 'oh what are you having' bit starts and goes on and on and on. Actual women read this blog -would one of them be kind enough to inform me why you need to know what the person beside you is drinking before you order? Please my sanity depends on it. After about ten minutes three of them went up to the bar to order completely ignored the queue and got served before folk who had been waiting at least ten minutes, naturally the forgot parts of the order and had to make repeated trips back to the table for reminders. Unfortunately they spotted me sitting alone and invited me to join them which I declined to do only to be treated to repeated whines of 'ye cannae sit yerself', 'don't be shy'. How I longed to beat them with sticks screaming 'I go to the pub to get peace, leave me alone'. Imagine my delight when I got stuck with them on the bus to Edinburgh the next day.
Other than that it was fine.