Should Have Known Better

How easy could it be? A piss up in brewery? What could possibly go wrong? Having it in Buffoon Central, aka Shipley that's what. Where else would a brewery, who is holding a beer festival, advertised on the Internet and in local papers, during a local festival, get in enough beer to last one night? Know the worst part about it? I wasn't surprised. On Friday the place was drunk dry, as a woefully unprepared brewery was only expecting 400 or 500 visitors over the full weekend, was swamped by that number on the first night alone. And when you figure that up and coming Buffoon rookie Lefty was the organiser in chief, the outcome was, in fact, all to predictable. This didn't stop us having a decent night, but points to Lefty for sure. Speaking about Buffoon points, I have found out that the Right Honourable Shoutster has been stuffing the ballot for the 2008 Maillot Jaune, voting for me on more than one occasion. he even reckons I should be above him, as he hasn't done anything of merit for ages. He points out that apart from the Cologne train incident, there is the shallow swimming pool, speeding ticket and lost bank card stunts I pulled in the US of A. Well my blinking pal shall we look deeper into your performance so far this year? Was it three or four coats/jackets you have lost? Is it three or four park benches/gutters/public toilets you have woken up in/on during this buffoon season? Who was it that had to be rescued from the Prune Park by Crespo, thinking it was midnight, when in fact it was half past eight? And don't get me started on the nose bleeds. And let's not forget how cool you looked trying to chat up that bird with a piece of bog roll stuck your hand. What made it worse was that you noticed it, and started wafting it around in her face laughing, as you tried to remove it, failing badly in the process. Then there was the look of bemusement, as you tried to draw cash out of an ATM, that had its door open, and big sign that read "Out of Order." Or how you continued to persevere even when a friend took pity on you and tried to explain that it had been emptied. How about that train you caught to work in Bradford, wondering how you ended up in Leeds when you got on the wrong train. To cap it all off, as you proudly boasted on Saturday night, how you had been idiot free for a good three months, ten minutes before you lost your wallet in the tram shed. You may well have a point, that I have undersold my own performance this year, but when stood in the shadow of the mountain of idiocy that has been cast in your name, I feel confident that when "Le Maillot Jaune" is presented to this years "Le Grand Buffoon", it shall be your shoulders it adorns.