September 26th - October 2nd 2005
Sunday Pants
Saturday Canary Wharf
Friday Defenestration
Thursday Tingo
Wednesday Just wrong
Tuesday Modest proposal
Monday Hi spotty
Sunday 2nd October 2005
Overheard
(on Wapping Lane at 3am):
Over-weekended merchant banker standing half-naked at his noisy window:
Progressive trance! it's all about progressive traaahhnce!
Passing middle-aged American:
Did he say.. chequered pants?
Saturday 1st October 2005
Canary Wharf, Autumn 2005
Friday 30th September 2005
Of course, in my day, when we threw uppity 80-yr-olds off balconies, we didn't run around afterwards wringing our hands and apologising left, right and centre.
What with Gordo off with the, ahem, fairies, Cherie mouthing off about her so-called sex life, not to mention, make that do not mention, various votes from the floor, the high-standard of spin-doctoring that you've come to expect as a natural right has been sadly deficient during this conference, and for that I apologise.
Please keep an eye on Mr Murdoch's newspapers in the next few days for some carefully tailored revelations about Walter Wolfgang's past: the man may look like an archbishop, but ask yourself: where's Mrs Wolfgang? Hm? Hm? Hmmm?
Thursday 29th September 2005
I know what it means; I know what it ought to mean
Tingo: - the noise that goes off in a blogger's head when he reads of a book that will provide material for, ooh, at least a week's entries.
Wednesday 28th September 2005
Does it worry no-one else that, within hours of the (police-funded) arrival of the grief-stricken family of an entirely innocent Brazilian shot dead at point-blank range by officers of the law in hot pursuit, the British prime minister is hectoring the nation on the need to abandon 'Dickensian' thinking about the protection of the innocent?
If this is 21st century justice, he can keep it.
Tuesday 27th September 2005
I understand that there have been criticisms of my robust management style; the word Nazi, I'm told, has been widely used.
This kind of character assassination is patently unacceptable in the modern workplace. We must all play our part in combatting such subversive slurs.
Here is what I propose.
If, by lunchtime today, the source of these malicious allegations remains untraced, I shall be inviting one of your number to accept redundancy. Tomorrow, five.
And so on, until the source of these vicious rumours has been eliminated.
That is all. Return to your work.
Monday 26th September 2005
Although chatting at sundry chums, friends, acquaintances and strangers in Horse Meat Disco on Sunday night was undoubtedly the most pleasant part of my weekend, I have to draw a special halo round the moment at XXL's 5th birthday party the night before when, as I stood langorously posed by the entrance to the dark room, a not unattractive man paused as he passed, looked me up and down, and muttered, "Hi, spotty."
An unlikely compliment, you might think. As did I. But no more unlikely then what I later decoded: he was telling me I had a nice body...
......previous week
