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Alasdair Allan

This is a private journal about all the exciting things that have happened to me since I stood as MSP for Gordon the Western Isles. I am dedicated to the people of Gordon the Western Isles, and there is nowhere else I would rather represent. I even intend to live there soon.

I am not to be mistaken for for that imposter who pretends to be an MSP.

I really like this dynamic and exciting blog layout, which suits me perfectly.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

College graduation

I have been invited to the graduation ceremony at the University of the Highland and Islands at Lews Castle College. I am delighted to attend to show the students just what a real degree like the ones I have can help them achieve, if they are ever able to attend a real university.

I drive to the College, taking the speed humps at not more that 5mph, and I lead the procession of cars - all tooting their horns in celebration - into the car park, where I park carefully at the third attempt.

Carrying my degree certificates inconspicuously in their golden frames above my head, I sit in the audience to watch the first degrees being issued. Actually, due to necessary budget re-prioritisations caused by Labour incompetence and delivered in a wonderful fashion by Mr John in all his budgets, the core budget for the proposed UHI has been increased in a negative manner by about 5% and the award of full University status has been advanced through a process of re-evaluation of the process involving an extension of the timeframe for award from three years to infinity and beyond.

It is important to remind the students that their degrees are not as good or as valuable as mine, as this will only serve to encourage them to try harder.

After the ceremony, I am surrounded by a group of male hairdressing students who are all desperate to share grooming tips with me, and invite me to a private party later. I explain repeatedly about my degrees, but all they are interested in is giggling and asking about my hair gel.

Mr Angus has better luck, arranging to show some female students his awards later, and he has arranged private tuition with two or three of them for later that evening.

No-one seems that interested in talking about my PhD, as they all want to have a good time, so I leave at the earliest opportunity and head off to Tesco for a bottle of red wine and a meal for one. After dinner, I climb into my In the Night Garden pyjamas, re-affix my degree certificates to wall, ensure the 200w spotlights focus on them, open the bottle of red wine, and try to connect with Mr Orr on the webcam.

I've read my wise words this many times

* No, not really. If you haven't worked out that this is a satirical exercise, then please get a life. And find one for Alasdair.