Thursday, July 29

feathers in the cap

There's a new feather in my cap, but do I really need any more? Not if my life's already a glorious indian chief head-dress of achievement.

Which it's not of course.

The second-last useful thing I ever achieved was jumping aboard a ship to New South Caledonia. That's where I ended up meeting the cellmate, my very last achievement, and even then I had the help of a dribble of hormones.

Now there's a former client, a thoroughly nice chap who has actually been applying, in his job, some of the stuff that I told him about. Possibly a first! It's analagous to a buddhist blogger discovering that some reader has felt inspired to take up meditation.

I've kept in touch with this guy, and recently I casually asked if he would like to come and address the new batch of clients. Well he's very keen, and so am I, because it would really help the clients. That's the good part. But at the same time, he has asked me to come to his workplace, a large corporate organisation, and address the troops to persuade them to use my methodology in their own work.

Dearie me. Even if they paid me, it'd be hard work. If only I was half my age and ten times more ambitious, I could seize the opportunity and make something of myself.

Some people have the gene for ambition, and good luck to them. It's people like them that run the world, so that people like me don't have to. But how will they ever achieve doing nothing? Hopeless!


  1. Albert? If you convinced yon boy to remove his skull and replace it was that stargate helmet, you have great powers of persuasion. I bet that getup goes down great at the disco! Well done! Hotboy

  2. Albert? The feather headdress along with the feather up the bum while you're performing your now world famous prostate massage dance just finishes the look off perfectly. You should think about storming the Edinburgh Festival next year. Hotboy

  3. I say!

    Will that be on the Fringe? I'd like to book tickets, please.

    MM III

  4. Hotters and Mingers. It's on at the Ass-embly Rooms. You're on the guest list. Come in the back door, past the far queue.