Day 2449: It should have been MEEEE… AGAIN!

Sunday:


STUFF being GROWN UP about it… Waaahhh! Boo hoo! boo hoo!

Okay, got that out of my system.

Congratulations to all the winners of the Blogger of the Year contest, and big hugs and thank yous to the judges for giving me the opportunity to be nonimated again next year!

six prizes, three winners, one, er, representative

In a ceremony in Brighton’s GLAMOROUS seafront Holiday Inn, presented by Glamorous Mr Councillor Deputy Lord Stephen (frock by Dior) and Handsome Ms Lynne Featherweight (miffed about the frock) special guest Ms Ros-from-the-Grauniad presented the Big Prize to Mr James...

A kiss is just a kiss

…and also a glass globe.

Then she RAN AWAY very quickly before she could be photographed with me!

I did manage to catch up with some of the REAL STARS though, the winners of the Blogs of the Year.

Special Hugs go to Mr Jonny for winning ONE-AND-A-HALF awards, with “Best Newcomer” and “Nearly Best Single Entry” prizes.

Hugging a hoodie

And if there’s a SPECIAL AWARD for topping the BBC’s coverage, then Mr Jonny won that too!

DOUBLE Hugs to Mrs (former) Mayor Mary who won both the “Best Elected Diary” and “Best Liberal Democrat for going out and getting all their friends to Vote in the best traditions of the Party” prize.

She's a Lady

If there was one thing that these prizes proved it was that you can write small and beautiful local diaries and be JUST AS IMPORTANT as the big bouncing barnstorming ones.

And COMMISERATING hugs with Mr Paul…

Brave smiles

…who deserved to win ALMOST as much as ME!


I was lucky enough to be nonimated in TWO categories, this year: Best Diary and Most Humorous Diary (which is ODD because my flappy legs do not HAVE elbows!)

There are some VERY CYNICAL people who might think that a “Most Humorous” category was only made so that the judges would not have to give the BIG prize to a FLUFFY TOY. But that CANNOT be TRUE – because the eventual winner was Mr James!

fluffy winner... and friend

I do have to admit that I was PLEASED not to win the prize as “Most Humorous”, though. NOT because I am afraid of that nice Mr Don Liberali. Oh no. He’s not getting ME anywhere near Mr Lembit’s helicopter. But because I think that my diary is far too SERIOUS.

Humour is probably the best weapon that we have got against the massed zombie armies of the Labour and the big bucks battalions of the Conservatories. We are the Party of humour.

The Labour HAVE no sense of humour – only a Party without IRONY would use the TERRORISM act to eject an old man from their conference for saying out loud what everyone else was thinking.

The Conservatories DO have a sense of humour – but usually they try to keep Mrs Anne Winterton QUIET about it. More recently, Mr Grant Mishapps has been EXPERIMENTING with more SOPHISTICATED types of comedy. With very little success. His comedy double act this summer (with Mr Dale Winton as his straight man) does not seem to have gone down well with Mr Balloon.

When Mr Rory Bremner dresses up as Mr Something of the Night and says “I’m not going to hurt you!” Conservatories throw things at the screen and send small children to bed (especially the ones who join in); when Mr Rory dresses as Captain Paddy and starts to sing “In the Lib Dems” we write down the words in order to SING ALONG!

The Liberal Democrats, then, are the Party who are FUNNY – from Mr John Cleese making Partly Political Broadsides for us in the 1980’s to Danish Netball’s answer to Tim Henman, Ms Sandy Topsywig, interviewing Sir Mr the Merciless live on the BBC Parliament channel and managing to pull!

Because – and this is why FUNNY is also VERY SERIOUS – when we make people laugh, then they might remember what it is that we have to say. The most difficult of ideas are sometimes easier to put over with a JOKE than with a LECTURE.

“Funny” according to TV’s Mr Steven Moffat is “when one person says something and the other person laughs”. So I would particularly like to say thank you to all of the people who, when I said something, DID laugh.


Now can anyone help get me out of this BRIDESMAID’s FROCK that Mr Lord Bonkers has got me stuffed into. I mean, cream-coloured crushed silk and a tiara, really!