DPM's diary: 26 September 2006

Weekly round up of events at Bodcaster City Council


It's that time of year again. The annual conference of the Association of Local Information Consultants (Asslic) is convened in the inappropriately genteel Yorkshire spa town of Harrowingale and I am ensconced in the smart and comfortingly familiar surroundings of the Myjoystick Hotel when suddenly the charm of the evening is shattered by an appalling wailing of off-tune electric instruments.

The Jazzlic combo is a set of aged ITers so past their sell-by date that even the grottiest, cheapest boozer you can think of would not dream of having them play, even if they bunged the landlord £100 for the privilege, but which delegates to Asslic are treated to as "evening entertainment".

I ran from the hotel with both hands clasped to my ears and joined the huge crowd of other delegates, similarly protecting themselves, streaming down the hill to find a quiet pub in the town.


Black tie dinner with El Presidente, Easy Ryder, in the chair. The guest speaker was some woman I had never heard of. Sat next to Willi Simons, who rejoices in the title global head of e-stuff at Sicco. I fell asleep while he told me about all the important things he had been in the past.


Having found the pubs of Harrowingale both more genial and more interesting than the Asslic Conference, I somehow contrived to stay in one until about eight this morning.

Having returned arm-in-arm with certain old Asslic stalwarts, I took breakfast in the hotel and went for a short nap. I was awakened by a hotel official who informed me that the conference was finished and they wanted to know when I would be vacating my room.

Emerging into the dwindling daylight, I pointed the Jag back towards Bogcaster and wondered why, if the sat nav is so damn certain about the directions it keeps giving me, it doesn't drive the bloody car itself.


Discharged from hospital this evening. Jag still in intensive care. Lamppost I hit as I dozed off is definitely deceased.


Back at Bogcaster City Council, where my new scars are admired by most of my staff. Mavis is the exception, remarking that she "could have done much better". This may be an oblique reference to me not taking her with me to the conference this year.

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