The fame spreads

As previously reported this little project of ours at Bogun Towers is receiving considerable interest and, dare we say it, generating no little excitement in the PR/marketing world. It appears that in the new media world the views of the blithering idiot who is the subject of our regular missives are considered important. Exactly what sort of world we find ourselves in if his views are important is a disturbing one. We always thought that the various, ahem, incidents had ruled him out of politics and it would be most troubling if he were to acquire any influence by some backdoor.

That said of course it remains our job to faithfully report the news and most recently he travelled up to London to meet with two chaps who are running the Boguniverse project as they are calling it. In a horribly circular way we feel obliged to make them part of the story and can report that they are both splendid fellows (although Jamie really could do with a good razor) although clearly barking mad as they want to meet him again.

Having met them and convinced them of his messianic status and subverted them to his will (and chucked down three pints of Adnams – fine beer but frankly hangover juice) he hopped, skipped and jumped his way over to Hampstead to meet up with Christine, her bloke, Bad Nigel, TEM, Glenn and some random girls.

One of these random girls had clearly spent rather too much of her life sniffing Columbia’s finest up her nose before engaging in some ill advised plastic surgery and found herself in the rather unenviable position of opposite our subject. How much bad luck can one girl have?

Meanwhile he was chatting to the very lovely girl sitting next to him who, it turned out, was a singer and a very pretty one at that. Apparently she is quite famous but cultural leader that he is he had no idea who she was. For our reader’s delectation we print her photo below.

Whilst enjoying her company he foolishly was suckered in by the waiter’s sales pitch for the filthy stuff they brewed on site. Having had a little taste of the foulest home brew known to man we can well understand how the hangover the next day was as bad as he made out although we rather suspect he was making a song and dance of it.