EXTRACTS from a diary that have been sent to Northern Voices.
This is the diary of a man of our times.
Any resemblance to anyone living is, of course, purely coincidental.
Any resemblance to anyone living is, of course, purely coincidental.
Thursday 11th February 2016
Came into my office and was met with ‘Good Morning’ from one of my serfs (employees). As I always converse with my staff I said ‘No it isn’t, get on with your f*****g work’
And it isn’t a good day, the media work, and pay, is thin. I have got one of the papers to talk about my forthcoming book. Thought about doing an autobiography, (provisional title, “ME”) but my man needs to finish the ‘exposé’ before he writes that one.
There’s been a fuss about parking. More bitterness from the vanquished I’d wager. I do think (not very often) that a man of my standing and importance should be given his own car park, with a nice young lady parking warden to police it. Or be given free parking at least, saves on all that paperwork for the pay and displays. As a major figure in this town people come to me with their unimportant and tedious problems. If I am not allowed to charge them for my valuable time, I should at least be free (not a word I’m usually associated with) to charge them for parking, something I know a lot about. On second thoughts, those who see me should really pay a consultancy fee commensurate with my brilliance. I’ll have a word with someone, maybe the rules on this are too vague.
At least the ex has hung up her crayon for a while. Who is going to colour in those pictures?
Lacking female company, need to do something about that. What’s wrong with them?
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