They hid this blog but I've found it again now. I'll have to keep the password - "Mr Brilliant" -in my porridge tin where Sarah and Ed can't find it.I've sent a message to Chilcott that if he asks any difficult questions tomorrow then he'll be dead meat. I can rely on the rest of the panel to do what they're told. After all I chose them and they know which side their bread is buttered. Chilcott and that other Englishman Lyne might be a problem but the other three were chosen specially their habits of bending the facts to suit their purposes. Its a talent I also modestly claim for myself. But there'll be n o need tomorrow because everything I did was right and I shall tell them so.Sarah says I've put on a bit of weight since I started snacking on banana and KitKat sandwiches with IrnBru. What am I supposed to eat when those low life scum in the kitchens don't know how to make bridies, tatties and neeps? I'll have to wear my new truss and if anyone says anything about my stiff walk, and that means you Geoffrey No-Job Hoon, then I'll make sure they're toast. That bastard Ashcroft's been found not guilty of anything. Well we'll see about that. I reminded that unshaven inadequate Mark Thompson who's responsible for deciding on the size of the license fee. Me. I told him to lead the 9 o'clock news on a story about Ashcroft robbing the bank of England at gunpoint and he had the cheek to ask me for details. Never mind about details, I told him. After you've talked about nothing else for two weeks you can say it was mistake.
Labels: Chilcott

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