Organising a Piss-Up in a Brewery
A beginners guide by Boris Joh;son
Although a ‘pissup in a Brewery is an anathema to we of the upper classes who prefer Bacchus to Farage, I have, courtesy of Piss-Up in a Brewery Classes at first Eton and later Oxford, gathered invaluable knowledge on the subject.
At Eton, it was included in our curriculum after a senior member of staff looking at our year group was heard to observe: “Let’s hope a whole fucking generation can get through life without having to find someone who could organise a Piss-Up in a brewery.
At Oxford, it was written in with the introduction: “We cannot let these bastards leave here without a single life skill, seemingly knowing less when they graduate than they did when they arrived”.
Inevitably, if one is from the upper classes and becomes a national treasure, one plans and takes the credit for successes, but delegates actual work to a minion who will take the blame if the venture crashes into the buffers.
As the ‘big cheese’, ‘top banana’ it soon fell to me to organise said ‘Piss-Up’.Dom was adamant that I should delegate. “Given your education, training and experience, this is clearly within your competence, but just in case someone, not you of course, screws up, you need to be able to climb into your fridge for a few days”.
Following advice I did appoint a team, cleverly chosen to meet the two main criteria. Firstly, a check to gauge the attitude of the venue to loose women. A firm policy is essential; who could even consider a venue that excluded loose women? The second critical criterion is the financial probity of the venue owner. A rigid aversion to using company funds to better the lives of Tory politicians or to make contributions to Tory Party funds is very unhealthy.
To oversee general organisation I appointed Chris Grayling, a sharp brain with a great record. Only recently he saved more than £60m by rejecting tenders from P&O and Brittany Ferries and instead selecting an unknown company owned by a pal. Those who don’t understand business criticised Chris because the chosen company didn’t have any ferries. With his brilliant intellect, Chris realised that the ferries were not going to be needed so buying a service that was never going to be needed from a pal who would never be able to supply but would share the profits, was clearly a good deal.
Robert Jenrick was the obviously the best choice to handle finances. With Whitehall’s only stock of brown envelopes he was ready to go and he was straight on it with the additional bullet in his gun that I know some very unpleasant people, not only in government but in the underworld.
They went to work straight away, guided by a list of criteria I drew up. The loose women were invited, glasses were ordered from France and menus were commissioned from the foreign company that prints the Brexiteer’s orgasmic blue passports that are produced in black, but never in blue. Car parking was organised and limousines were ordered from Carr’s of Islington.
Three months later and the fact that it went wrong just wasn’t our fault. Who could have foreseen that the French would send 500 pairs of spectacles, that Carr’s of Islington were makers of Prosthetics and the passport makers are making so much money with the passports they don’t want other work.
The loose women turned up as planned but were not loose enough. They were from the ITV programme and couldn’t get into the Brewery because the owner had retired a couple of years on his share of £40,000,000 conned out of a clown in London who planned to build a bridge, but couldn’t organise a piss-up in Brewery.