Supply blogging

 

I was enjoying a well-deserved post prandial snooze in the smoking room of my club, when I became aware of the protective copy of The Daily Telegraph being removed from my face.

On opening one bleary eye, I was confronted by the florid physiognomy of the noble Lord Blogger, my erstwhile employer.

“You, dear boy,could be the answer to a maiden's prayer.”

Having dispatched his catamite, Jeremy, to fetch me a refreshing brandy and soda, he delivered his tale of woe.

Apparently there is some sort of Saga sponsored zimmer-fest taking place up in darkest Jockshire over the next couple of weeks and most of his Lordship's top-style bloggers will be leaving him in the lurch while they generate enough material for the following 11months posting. This will leave a nasty vacuum in the Blogger International bandwidth, and apparently the old fox had had the idea that I might be the man to help fill it, albeit on a temporary basis.

“But I quit, remember ? After the unfortunate little contre-temps over my exies, we agreed that I should pursue other interests, develop my career in different areas,and spend more time with my family.”

“Of course, old thing. But that was then, this is now. Line in the sand – move on- lessons learned and all that.That debt-to-society Profumo stuff is so '60s.

Truth is, old bean, I'm well sorted for Lakeland weekenders and wannabe gear testers, but I've never quite filled the “cynical whimsy with cheap music” chair. D’ya get my drift ?”

“Up to a point, Lord Blogger, but what about my readers.? Surely they will have “moved on” too ? These heady days of 8 page views per day will have gone forever.”

“Fear not. I've thought of that. Blogger International will relaunch your thingy with massive advertising featuring women's breasts. You can run regular showbiz competitions and make disparaging comments about Trades Unions and immigrants. They'll lap it up, particularly as their favourites are “on sabbatical”. And don't call me Shirley”

I shook my head wearily and repositioned The Telegraph in snooze mode. And then someone seemed to whisper a large sum of money in my ear.

Soooo

Welcome to the all-new post-capitalist One Small Step !!