Birmingham Post

Howdy. Sorry I ain't been in touch lately, but what with Mipim and the Broad Street Awards my head's been sorer than a nest full of hornets at the Kentucky Derby. And that ain't no exaggeration.
I sure didn't realise when I was appointed head of strategy at Birmingham City Council's communications directorate that I'd have to do so much socialising. Now, I can drink like the best of 'em, after all, I was brought up on my dear ol' daddy's blueberry and rice hooch, but this Mipim thing is something else.
Truth to tell, I don't recall too much about it. Course, I've seen the video of me an' Mayor Mike Whitby with traffic cones on our heads singing Yankee Doodle Dandy, but I sure don't know where the black boot polish came from. All part of what Mayor Mike likes to call working hard and playing hard, I suppose.

Howdy. Well, as I said last time I was talking to you good folks, Mayor Mike Whitby, the leader of Birmingham City Council and my bestest pal ever, ordered me, Wilbur Snr, head of strategy in the communications directorate, to go an see some dude called Sir Albert Bore.
Now, it seems that this Sir Bore guy is a high-ranking Labor Democrat who dedicates his life to showing Mayor Mike no respect at all. Course, down where I come from folks like that would be tarred and feathered an' run out of town. We cain't be putting up with no Demcorats. But I guess you English are too laid back for that kind of thing.
Anyways, as I think I mentioned last time, this Sir Bore he ain't too well and spends most of his time in hospital. Mayor Mike tells me Sir Bore is some kind of brain box, claims to be a nooklear physicist, whatever that is.

Howdy. Now, keep this under your hat. It's gotta be treated on a need-to-know basis, as my new best buddy James North would say. I've just returned from two super-secret missions in my role as head of strategy in the communications directorate at Birmingham City Council.
First off, I had to go on the orders of council leader, Mayor Mike Whitby, to some place called Manchester where I had to "dig some dirt". It seems that this Manchester is getting too big for its boots and needs to be taken down a peg or two. Yihaa to that!
Anyways, when I got there I discovered that Manchester's train station is so under-used that they don't even have to close the gates to passengers in the rush hour. And, you ain't going to believe this, but it's all on street level.

Howdy. Sorry I ain't been in touch recently, folks, but it's been as mad as free tasting day at the hooch distillery here at Birmingham City Council's communications directorate.
This month didn't get off to a good start for yours truly, head of strategy, personal adviser and best buddie to Mayor Mike Whitby.
Mayor Mike says he doesn't know who he'd most like to line up against a wall and shoot. Faceless "booryaucrats" at somehwere called the Audit Commission, or smart-arsed journalists on The Birmingham Post, which is a paper he never reads.

Hot dippity dog. You ain't never going to believe this, but I've just discovered that my best chum Mike Whitby, the Mayor of Birmingham, has only gone and hired Michael Parkinson to do the vision thing.
Well, Parkinson's kind of big even in the good old US of A.
I just love those old interviews with the likes of Cary Grant, John Wayne and Mohhamad Ali.

Howdy! Bet you good folks thought you'd heard the last of me, Wilbur Snr.
Truth is when I got back to Birmingham Alabama (God's own country) after a couple of months as special US Ambassador and policy advisor to Mike Whitby, the Mayor of Birmingham UK, I'd just about had enough of being a celebrity.
Thought I'd just do myself a bit of fishin' and drink a few cold beers.
Then, the most incredible thing happened.
Old Mrs Scroggs from the General store came scurrying up to our shack, since we had the phone taken away on account of being unable to pay the bill, hollerin' and shoutin' 'bout there being some smarmy limey wanting to speak urgent to me.