#MIPIM – “…very male, middle-aged and oh-so-white” says Marty Lipgloss
#MIPIM Fun With [former] PR Guy Martin Liptrot
The #MIPIM bash tops everything,
The Med sun’s rays are beating,
The cost of living’s up. Kerching!
Fine wines, al fresco eating,
The Wirral team sport golden bling,
On sunbeds they’re reclining,
This Halliday’s now in full swing,
PR guy Martin’s shining.
“Cannes harbour yachts to sea, ahoy!
Anchors aweigh, fair sailing!!”
A day’s cruise for the team, oh joy,
Wankers and winds prevailing,
These chartered yachts cost dear, it’s steep,
With prices rising, scaling,
But like the Med, our wallet’s deep,
PR guy Mart’s not bailing.
Our Eric Robbo wows the crowd,
So much, they’re moved to bliss,
Mart’s LinkedIn blog looks rather proud,
10 comments | 10 likes | 1 kiss,
Meanwhile the demolition guys,
Are levelling Girtrell Court,
Still, Mart’s got £££££ signs in his eyes,
For when the land is bought.
There lies the rub for Public Jack,
Who’s forced against a wall,
With one arm twisted up his back,
Until he ££coughs, plays ball,
And on it goes, this morbid threat,
“Pay up and fund our plans,
Then we’ll sink you in grinding debt,
To pay for Mart’s sun tans!!”
Wirral In It Together 
I really hope they get to eat ‘al fresco’ in the Italian interpretation, real soon.
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Of course he’s passionate. Why shouldn’t he be. He’s up against a whole legion of passionate bastards, passionately wanting to serve me, you and we with a passionate outcome to some pointless codswallop that nobody ever wanted or needed.
If he wants to impress me and get Cardin’s attention I’d respectfully suggest to this parasitic feeder he’d do well to up his game. I recently read some Doris in public service ‘top trump’ the lot of them by describing herself as ‘relentlessly driven’. Now that’s what you call fuckng thoughtful and mightily impressive. If I had to interview either him or this Doris and they each gave me their answer to how passionate they were, if I could restrain myself from stabbing both in the eye with a soft leaded pencil, I’d give the bastard job to the Doris who was relentlessly driven.
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The mere mention of the “P” word on the AKA company website (now defunct) got the gig at Bristol City Council, where they now sit behind a grand, oaken CEO desk. It opened doors at Wirral prior to this, followed quickly by a frantic desire to snub all-comers and wash their hands like Pontius Pilate the second the Council cheque for £377,000 had cleared in the bank.
These desires dried up very quickly also as they moved on to Rochdale to shield council officers and stitch up the interests of a load of youngsters who’d been on the receiving end of Child Sexual Abuse…. by again, studiously bypassing those strong, heartfelt demands and refusing once again to record the interviews taken with complicit or otherwise council officers, granting a much-needed escape hatch at a future date.
Kerching!! The dirt rolls out. The cash rolls in. Thank you for your passion AKA.
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I mean, we’re all different and our thresholds for absorbing this public service rancid, meaningless bollocks are all set at varying levels of tolerance and acceptance but, me personally, I don’t know how you can top ‘relentlessly driven’.
I’ve had a good long think about it, and unless you’re prepared to drift into areas of the absurd where you’ll pledge to stab yourself yourself to death in a public place in front of a throng of folk I f you fail to deliver a positive outcome together with your equally passionate Partners, then I can’t see where you can go to surpass ‘relentlessly driven’.
It’s all well and good Martin and others claiming they’re passionate, but they all are. They’re all passionate to suck upon our public lactating teats and so, my message to those who want a career in public service but don’t fancy ever surpassing mediocrity in their quest to join all those other passionate bastards is to be original and start heading off to the out and beyond and describe yourself in a way that places you above and beyond ‘relentlessly driven’.
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Reblogged this on Wirral In It Together and commented:
An old Wirral readers’ favourite here. We wonder whatever happened to Martin Liptrot…?
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